ages of mankind to imitate the voice of a cat that lived under the same roof with them?’ He added that the cat had contributed more to harmony than any other animal; as we are not only beholden to her for this wind instrument, but for our string music in general.”  The essayist, however, is disposed to hold that the catcall is originally a piece of English music.  “Its resemblance to the voice of some of our British songsters, as well as the use of it, which is peculiar to our nation, confirms me in this opinion.”  He mentions that the catcall has quite a contrary effect to the martial instrument then in use; and instead of stimulating courage and heroism, sinks the spirits, shakes the nerves, curdles the blood, and inspires despair and consternation at a surprising rate.  “The catcall has struck a damp into generals, and frightened heroes off the stage.  At the first sound of it I have seen a crowned head tremble, and a princess fall into fits.”  He concludes with mention of an ingenious artist who teaches to play on it by book, and to express by it the whole art of dramatic criticism.  “He has his bass and his treble catcall:  the former for tragedy, the latter for comedy; only in tragi-comedies they may both play together in concert.  He has a particular squeak to denote the violation of each of the unities, and has different sounds to show whether he aims at the poet or the player,” &c.

The conveyance of a catcall to the theatre evidences a predisposition to uproarious censure.  Hissing may be, in the nature of impromptu criticism, suddenly provoked by something held to be offensive in the representation; but a playgoer could scarcely have armed himself with a catcall without a desire and an intention of performing upon his instrument in any case.  Of old, audiences would seem to have delighted in disturbance upon very light grounds.  Theatrical rioting was of common occurrence.  The rioters were in some sort a disciplined body, and proceeded systematically.  Their plan of action had been previously agreed upon.  It was a rule that the ladies should be politely handed out of the theatre before the commencement of any violent acts of hostility; and this disappearance of the ladies from among the audience was always viewed by the management as rather an alarming hint of what might be expected.  Then wine was sent for into the pit, the candles were thrown down, and the gentlemen drew their swords.  They prepared to climb over the partitions of the orchestra and to carry the stage by assault.  Now and then they made havoc of the decorations of the house, and cut and slashed the curtains, hangings, and scenery.  At Drury Lane, in 1740, when a riot took place in consequence of the non-appearance of Madame Chateauneuf, a favourite French dancer, a noble marquis deliberately proposed that the theatre should be fired, and a pile of rubbish was forthwith heaped upon the stage in order to carry into effect this atrocious suggestion.  At the Haymarket Theatre, in 1749, the audience, enraged