DEATH, which is the common lot of all, has nothing terrible in it, when it advances in the common course of nature; but when it rushes suddenly upon many who have not fore-warning, or time to offer up a single ejaculation for mercy, to reflect upon it is appalling!- the soul shrinks back and shudders at destruction,' and we turn from the scene of human immolation with dismay and sorrow,

Accidents are daily occurring in London, by which human life is sacrificed, and many of them from neglect-where a little attention would have been salvation.' We are no judges of the solid principles of architecture our views of public buildNo. 95-N. S.

ings are superficial; we admire, or con demn the exterior, and when it bears a solid appearance, we conceive all is right within. This is a common way of judging on things which do not immediately concern ourselves; and when we looked upon the fine facade which adorned The Brunswick Theatre,' we felt a national pride that such an edifice should have risen in a situ ation where taste was not expected to be displayed.

This Theatre has fallen! we hope it is not ominous-the House of Brunswick is a mass of ruins! The building was loaded with a cast-iron roof, than which nothing can be more preposterous. A roof that

excludes the wet is all that is wanted -no one but a madman would think of discarding silk, and bearing over him a cast-iron umbrella. In this case, it seems, that the walls were very slender the roof very weighty, and, as a matter of course, the roof crushed down all beneath it, and buried in its avalanche the life, and life's hopes, of a hundred human beings.

When age and infirmity sinks to the tomb, The mind is prepared by the gradual decay;

But when beauty's cut off in life's opening bloom,

We mourn that it passes so quickly

away.

And in this awful catastrophe was beauty, youth, honorable age, the father, the mother, the child, the lover, and the friend, at once sent to render up their last account to him to whom all hearts are open and all desires are known.'

Over the wreck of expired, and expiring mortality, it is natural to bend with superstitious and sad devotion. We never knew an instance

where public sympathy has been more called into exercise than on this occasion.

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The escape of many of the formers may be considered as miraculous. The desolation the loss of life has occasioned in many families, cannot be contemplated without harrowing up the soul. There

was a cry in Israel-Rachel weeping for her children because they were not such sublime language may be applied to the present case, which has left, in the words of Robert Burns,

Many a sweet babe fatherless,
And many a widow mourning.'

There must have been wrong somewhere, and it is but due to public compassion that it should be stated on whom the onus lies. Are there not District Surveyors, who should have reported on the stability of this house? We know there

are-and they are paid for doing their duty. Why has it been neglected? We remember when poor Cundy had fitted up The Pantheon' at a great expence. The Surveyors declared it was not safe for a thousand persons to sit in.' The consequence was, that Cundy became an insolvent, and the place remains ever since as a memento of theatrical speculators.

"Tis right,' saith Scripture, 'that one man should die for the people.' Mr. Cundy was ruined,-but had he been suffered to exhibit his performances, a hecatomb of the dead would have rotted over the place of the living.

We sympathise with every one cut off in life's meridian day, that we personally knew, and in this case our sensibility is more particularly called forth-we do not speakablyknow, perhaps, any individual that lies buried in the wreck of things which were,'-but the Drama is so conversant to us-the performers have so often been before us-the deeds they have done have so often amnsed us-that we think of them as friends whom we joy to see, and could not separate from but witli a pang of regret. We are well aware that the victims to ignorance or neglect are gone to perform on a seene where they will neither dread the future or lament the past;

but that affords us small consolation, that is gone, and might have been when we reflect upon the worth spared to us a little longer, if stupi dity or avarice had not hurried them to an early tomb.

The Plate which accompanies this article, was done by an artist sent to the spot by us expressly, and the details of the disaster are from the most authentic sources; we are sorry to record such an event, over which every eye will let fall the tear of sensibility that streams for another's misfortunes.

The inhabitants of Wells-street and Wellclose-square were, on the morning of Feb. 28, thrown into a state of the utmost alarm and consteruation, by what was at first supposed to be a shock of an earthquake, but which proved to be the falling in of the New Brunswick Theatre, which, it will be recollected, was opened only on Monday, evening last. This dreadful event, which is accompanied with frightful loss of life, occurred at about halfpast eleven o'clock, while a rehearsal of Guy Mannering was taking place, which, unhappily, was very numerously attended by the performers and mechanics, a great many workmen being employed at different parts of the house.

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It is said that the walls, the mortar of which is not yet dry, were far foo slight to support the weight of the roof, and they in consequence bulging outwards, the whole mass of iron forming the roof fell in with the most dreadful crash, carrying with it the whole of the inside of the house, and burying beneath its ruins all those who had the misfortune to be within its walls. By this dreadful accident, the structure, which but a few days ago was the general theme of admiration at the east end of London, is now left a mere shell, its bare walls standing on three sides in a state so tottering and unsafe, as to leave little doubt that in a short time the whole will be levelled with the ground. The wall fronting towards Wells-street is the only external one which accompanied the fall of the roof, and falling ontwards into the street, its descent was not only destructive to the two houses opposite, the one a public house, and the other a baker's, but was also nearly proving fatal to several passengers. A lady and gentle. man, who were passing at the time, had a very narrow escape. A portion of the ruins fell upon the leg of

the gentleman, who saved himself by a desperate muscular effort, and extricated his leg from the boot. Some persons state that the lady was killed, but we are informed, and trust, that this statement is incorrect. A dray and two horses, standig at the public-house, were completely covered by the huge descending masses, and, of course, it would be needless to add that the whole was crushed. The draymen who accompanied it very narrowly escaped suffering the same fate. The number of those who were in the house at the time of the accident, we regret to say, were not less than from 80 to 100. Two persons who were at the top of the theatre, were in a moment precipitated to the ground. One of them escaped with little injury; the other received some severe contusions on the head, but it is hoped he was not dangerously hurt.

Mr. Percy Farren, the stage-manager, who is the brother of Mr. Farren, of Covent-garden Theatre, was on the stage, superintending the rehearsal, when he observed the chandelier giving way, and heard a cracking of the walls. By an instinctive effort, as it were, he reached the door, and rushed into the street, where he had not been many seconds when the roof fell in, and he heard the shrieks and groans of those who had been buried in the ruins. It is feared that this gentleman is the only person, or nearly so, who has been able to effect his escape without injury. The effort made by him was so sudden, and his mind was so bewildered at the time, that it does not appear that he was able to communicate his alarm to any of those who were on the stage with him. As a proof of the state of mind in which he was, it is mentioned, that as soon as he was out of the theatre, he ran onwards, without thinking of what he

was about, and proceeded to Covent-garden Theatre, to his brother, with whom he remained for a short time in a state of very great agita tion. He then returned to the scene of calamity.

The escape of a man named Shaw and his wife, appears to have been quite miraculous. The man was employed in the counting-house, which is not less than forty feet above the stage, and in one moment he states he found himself and wife below the stage, with a large plank across their bodies. Extricating himself from the plank as speedily as possible, he relieved his wife, and carried her up a stair-case then standing, and having gained a window, he lowered her into the street by means of a rope, and immediately followed himself. They were both so much bruised, however, that it was considered necessary to carry them to the London Hospital. A person named Ferris escaped with life by jumping from the first-floor window into a cart, and fortunately for him he received only a few slight injuries. Four men and a female were extricated from the scene of devastation about half-past one. The former were mechanics employed on the premises, and were removed to the London Hospital with scarce any hopes of their recovery. From that time until six a great many bodies, in a most mutilated state, continued to be dug out, and among these, we regret to state, was found the remains of Mr. Maurice, the proprietor. His body was dreadfully crushed; and as it was evident to all that the vital spark had fled, he was conveyed to the King's Arms, public-house in the neighbourhood. The body of Miss Fearon, also, one of the actresses, has been discovered, as also those of Mr. Carles, of Mr. Gilbert, and of six persons whose names are unknown; and

these were all who it was ascertained had been killed, up to six o'clock. The number of those who had been relieved from their frightful situation by the unceasing labours of the workmen, and conveyed to the different hospitals at that hour, amounted to about seventeen, and the cries of those still remaining beneath the ruins afforded a melancholy proof that that number would be greatly increased before morning.

At six o'clock on Thursday evening, the bodies of the following persons had been taken out dead; Mr. Maurice, the principal proprietor, Miss Fearon, one of the actresses Mr. Carles, Mr. Gilbert, and six persons whose name we could not ascertain; the names of those who were injured, and conveyed to the London Hospital, independent of two waggon-loads carried to St. Thomas's and Guy's Hospitals, were as follows:

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Mr. Carruthers, one of the proprietors, very much bruised; Eliza beth Forster, with a contused elbow John Abbot, a compound fracture of the leg; Moses Miles, a severe contusion; John Harris, and Henry Clark, fractured legs; Robert Mitchell, George Hoare, J. Robarts, and James Hodges, with cut heads; Stephen Spencer, a dislocated shoul der and fractured tibula; Joseph Blamire, fractured spine; Jane Wall, a compound fracture of right femur, and left tibia and tibula; Hannah Shaw, a cut face and contused leg John Shaw, an injured foot; Elizabeth Godfrey, William Ferris, and John Paul, slightly injured.

J. G. Andrews and T. J. Armiger, Esqrs., the two surgeons of the week, were fortunately in attendance at the Hospital, and as the sufferers arrived, every attention was paid to their cases, but it is feared many of them will never recover.

Further Particulars.

Messrs. Maurice and Carruthers, the gentlemen who had erected the theatre, and expended a very considerable sum in its completion, were behind the scenes, witnessing the probable effect that the drama would produce, when, at about 25 minutes to 12 o'clock, a slight crash of timher was heard, which was unattended to, from the supposition that it might have been the falling of a beam from the hands of a carpenter, who, with many others, was still employed in completing the building; another came, and it was equally disregarded; a third followed, which excited only a momentary alarm, and shook the lustre ; but a fourth followed with instantaneous rapidity, and buried the greater part of the performers in its ruins.

The cries, the anxiety, and the agony of the persons who crowded about, each looking for a relative, and all anxious to ascertain whether or not they were or were not bereft of a friend, cannot be described.

The account given by Mr. Goldsmith, one of the survivors, is quite corroborative of the above statement; he adds that while on the stage, and speaking to Mr. Wyman, another of the company, he removed, from some kind of presentiment, to the right-hand stage-box, immediately opposite to which Mr. P. Farren, the stage-manager was sitting, and casting the parts; but scarce had he arrived there, when he perceived a tremulous motion about the lustre, and the crash immediately followed. He says, that there were at the time Mr. Wyman, and at least twenty-four other persons on the stage and behind the scenes, occupied.

In the orchestra was Mr. Fearon, its conductor, arranging the music for the next night's performance, and immediately behiùd it were his

two sisters, who were also sisters of Mrs. Glossop, called Madame Fearon. When he (Mr. Goldsmith) first heard the shock, he says that his instant feeling was to quit the house, but yet he remained until the ruins tumbled in. He fortunately escaped, and while making his way and struggling through brick and mortar, he called out in anxiety, and two sailors at the moment rushed in and assisted him until he was placed in safety. Hardly had he got without the building, when he was met by Mr. P. Farren, whose escape was equally providential, and the exclamation was, Mr. Wyman and a female being with him, 'Good God, Goldsmith, have you escaped! we are the only persons who are left to tell the story. We ought to fall on our knees, and thank God for his protection.'

The labour connected with the extrication of the bodies of those unfortunate sufferers has been excessive. Mr. Hardwick, the gentleman who is conducting the works of the St. Katherine's Docks, most promptly gave his personal assistance, and also ordered up a gang of 100 of the workmen under his control, to assist and relieve those who had been busily employed throughout the day. These were again to be relieved last night, so that if there was the chance of the preservation of life, it would be secured by unremitting attention.

The bodies of those which have been extricated from the ruins, besides those already mentioned, are those of Robert Purdy, a mechanic, and a female; Jesse Miles, a car penter employed at the theatre, who is mentioned as having been an excellent workman-he has left a family of five children and a Jew named Levi, a clothesman, who resided in the immediate neighbourhood, and who was at the time the accident took place, reading the