We went to the National Theatre the other evening, to behold the "Rural Habitation of Uncle Thomas," vulgarly known as "Uncle Tom's Cabin"; and we wouldn't go to see it again for a "large sum of gold." The "gude wife" and "Young KNICK" wept their eyes out, and the "Old" gentleman of that name did the same thing, almost. "And what at?" may be asked. We answer, the touching and most beautiful, natural representation—call it not acting—of little EVA. But, one thing we must say, and that is, that it is positive cruelty to an audience to "enact" the death-bed scene, where little EVA departs to her home in Heaven. Such things, to any one who has been bereft of children, must seem, we had almost said, revolting. A lady in black, in the parquette, fell into a violent fit of hysteria, the night we were present; and no marvel.