IT is not often that we see the inside of the Theatre; not that we regard the drama as sinful—far from it—but life with us is too earnest, too full of solemn reality, to allow much time for amusement of any sort. Every day brings for us a weight of care that taxes our full strength, and the evening generally finds us too weary for social enjoyment. We are convinced that this system of "all work and no play" is very bad, and sometimes we resolve to discard it, but we seem predestined to be a drudge by a law above our mere volition. Perhaps it is only the law of habit. If our readers discover in us any of the "dullness" which the old proverb speaks of, they will be at no loss, after this frank acknowledgment, to account for it. If they are at all inclined to be anxious on our account in consequence of this confession, it may perhaps them some slight relief to be told that the Anti-Slavery Drama at the National has proved itself potent enough, on two different occasions, to lift us out of the rut of habit and make us oblivious for a time to the plodding cares and multiplied vexations of editorial life, and verily this statement, now that we think of it, is of itself no mean tribute to the power of the play, albeit it might not seem quite modest in us to say so.

  Yes, we have seen "Uncle Tom among the Bowery Boys." The phenomenon of an Anti-Slavery Drama at the Theatre usually termed the lowest in our city offered attractions quite sufficient to overcome both our scruples and our prejudices. It will not be thought strange that we went at first to such a place—the very Nazareth of the city's piety and respectability—with strong doubts if any "good thing" could come out of it or be found in it; but we had read the testimony of the Times, and were determined to see, hear and judge for ourselves, with all the candour that we could summon for the occasion.

  We cannot describe the play, and indeed it is not necessary that we should, since we have given our readers the benefit of the Times's, the Tribune's, and the Evening Post's critiques. It is enough for us to say that the descriptions given by these papers are generally very accurate and by no means exaggerated; at any rate, they excited in us no anticipations, and no hopes even, that were not fulfilled. Making fair allowance for some things pertaining to the current style of dramatic representation, especially in a Theatre intended, like the National, to cater to the tastes of what are usually termed the "lower classes," the play is worthy of the story on which it is founded. If a Committee of the American Anti-Slavery Society had been employed to arrange it with a view to make it as effective as possible in impressing upon the minds of the spectators the Anti-Slavery sentiments and the religious principles inculcated by Mrs. Stowe, the work could hardly have been better done. The characters are for the most part well conceived by the dramatist and well sustained by the respective actors; Uncle Tom, George Harris and Eva especially. The part of Eva is played by a beautiful little girl, five or six years old, whose acting is so perfectly natural as to make one forget that the story is a fiction. The part of Shelby is poorly done, but, as he appears only once, and the rest of the play is so good, the deficiency is of little consequence. Topsy could hardly be more faithfully represented.

  The house is thronged night after night, and it is encouraging to note the effects of the play as they are exhibited in the countenances of the spectators. The cat-calls and whistling so common in the pit are heard but rarely, the ragged urchins and the coatless men who fill that part of the Theatre being evidently subdued into sympathy with the slaves whose wretched lot is so faithfully depicted before them. The boxes are filled in good part with those who witness theatrical representations but rarely. We noticed each time we were present a mother with her infant in her lap, reminding us of an Anti-Slavery meeting in Ohio, and once we saw a Quaker under a brim of most Orthodox breadth, who, probably for the first time in his life, had found an exception to the rule of his sect which forbids attendance at "places of diversion." We hope the Monthly Meeting, if it shall call him to account, will deal leniently with him, for verily the temptation, operating upon a warm Anti-Slavery heart, and a mind long famished by sectarianism, was not easy to be resisted. If we are summoned as a witness in the case, we shall not hesitate to testify that the National Theatre, as at present conducted, is exerting an influence more favorable to religion and sound morals than that of any popular Quaker meeting that we know of. It will be a great day for our country when the Christianity of the American pulpit and meeting-house shall have risen to the level of that now being taught and illustrated in the Chatham street Play House. Slave-catching Commissioners will then have lost their vocation, and the gospel according to St. Beelzebub be no longer taught in the name of Christ. When the Church plays the part of the Priest and the Levite, we must be permitted to welcome the Good Samaritan even when he makes his appearance in the Theatre; and when the clergy hold their peace in view of the atrocities and miseries engendered by Slavery, let us be thankful that the stones have found a way to cry out.

  We are sorry to say that the coloured people are not, like the whites, allowed to sit where it "liketh them best," when they wish to see the play of Uncle Tom, but even in this respect the Theatre is an advance of many of the Churches, which locate the Negro Pew in the place least favorable for sight and hearing, for a convenient parquette has been fitted up for their special accommodation, where ladies can go without liability to insult or annoyance. This is not as we could wish, but it is, perhaps, all that we can reasonably expect at present. When the lesson of Uncle Tom's Cabin shall be fairly impressed on the public mind, all distinctions of caste will be abolished. We hope to live to see the coloured actors in this great drama personated, not by white men with faces besmeared with lamp-black, but by real negroes, mingling on terms of equality with white associates. Not until then will the full power of the drama be realized.