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by no means familiar to her. Her figure and face were both worth showing, yet she had a pretty reluctance to approach the lamps; and, when the scene demanded it, either through inexperience or timidity, she hesitated till handed forward by Mr. Egerton, who, à propos, had dressed his hair and countenance into a similitude of the King, or Elliston. In case another Mrs. Haller should shortly arise, we must hint that uncovered locks, curled and arranged by the seducing skill of Mr. Truefit, are not in unison either with the housekeeper or the Magdalen. Mrs. Siddons always wore a plain turban in this part; so did the little-vain O'Neil, though she had fair ringlets, and a beautifully shaped head.

Mr. Young enacts the Stranger with as little affectation, and in as matter-of-fact a way, as we believe it is possible for him to do; but he wants something of that pithy bitterness which was in his predecessor, and is in the original character.† The real, settled misanthrope would no doubt be cold, for "his heart is a shut sepulchre," but the unhappy Count is "philanthropos:" he wrestles stoutly, indeed, to become a hater, because he has an indistinct feeling, as if he owed it " to his dignity as a man, but the warm flame dispels the cold vapours, and his counterfeiting deceives himself but partially, others not at all. Aware of this failure, and incapable to retrieve it by action, he redoubles his attention to manner. He keeps a watch on his own words, and those of his servant. He is tremblingly alive to a suspicion of humanity, and, like Goldsmith's man in black, is ferociously charitable. We are much mistaken if these remarks are not confirmed by the first act. On the night before he had silenced Francis in the midst of his little story of Tobias; the man pays a most disagreeable obedience; and after waiting in vain for a voluntary re-commencement, the master is obliged to demand it. Stranger (after a pause.) "You were speaking last night."-Francis. "Of the old countryman?" Stranger. "Aye!" Francis. "You would not

*The worthy friseur of this House.

hear me out." Stranger. "Proceed!" As the distress of the tale heightens he assumes a greater hardness and severity, and accuses the benevolent Francis of interested motives; treating him as an impertinent spy, he delivers himself from him by a pretended errand, and instantly relieves plenteously his heart and the aged peasant. Young did not quite give us this; he is, indeed, vehement at times, which is good, but he wanted the covering of acrimony and systematic peevishness. It seems as if his temper was too amiable and soft to give such feelings any place under any circumstances, though he can display a generous warmth. It is much to be wished that this graceful actor would temper some of his stagestarts; the vulgar may clap their hands as thoughtlessly as he does, but the judicious grieve,- and Mr. Young is not a man for the vulgar.

A little more meditation, and a little more ambition, would refine his powers to a very keen edge. We do not require him to give up his ride in the Park, for it is beneficial to his health, but perhaps if the piano were touched more for relaxation than employment

Twice has Mr. Meadows presented himself to our critical fire,—his Baron Altradoff, in the Exile, was just exactly nothing, and he omitted the song wherein Liston directs the instrumental accompaniments. The old Times says, "his Peter proved that laughter may be excited without buffoonery;" for our parts we say nothing, lest we two should clash in our opinion. Mrs. Gibbs was, if possible, more abominably natural than ever in Charlotte, and made us long very much for the intellectual Miss Kelly-would that she were at Covent Garden! what a treat of tears we should have to hear her and Macready together in some such piece of homely pathos as Heywood's "Woman killed with kindness.”

"There you should see a passion, there you should see a passion!" But let us memorise the Sunday wig of Solomon, and that most Arcadian of Sunday coats, made, as we take it, of Brussels carpeting, which looks

This perhaps, is not a correct term to apply to any of Kotzebue's Dramatis Persons; for though master of situation he had little or nothing of characterization.

just like a vast sallad of cos-lettuces and the whitest celery! But here comes that little round nightingale, Mrs. Liston; and behind her stands Miss Beaumont with her guitar, as pretty and as good a girl as ever stepped on Norwegian wood. Listen. -A gentleman of a learned education kept a school at

Seve

ral circumstances, of no importance here, rotted the foundations on which he trusted to erect a permanent shelter for his family: his spirit gave way, matters became worse, and he died prematurely-leaving his children heirs of nothing but some unavoidable debts. One of them obtained at Covent Garden through her musical talents a salary, liberal as the treasury could afford, but still sufficiently scanty, considering the various claims made on the private pocket of the female performers. By management hardly to be conceived, this young creature actually laid by, in the space of sixteen months, a sum which put it in her power, without foreign aid, to appear among her gayer associates in all the ornaments so naturally dear to women. And even this would have been creditable to her but it was not set apart for any such purpose. A tradesman at was a few days ago desired to write a receipt for a bill of thirty pounds due to him by the late Dr. *****—he did so, and the money was paid down. On the same day, payment of another outstanding account was tendered to Mr.

an eminent surgeon in the same place, who, in the royal spirit of his patron god, Αναξ Απολλων, refused it !-It was the daughter of the unfortunate gentleman who offered this pious sacrifice to his memory, and this daughter was MISS BEAUMONT!

When the curtain dropt there arose a mighty strife between cries of "the Stranger!" and "No! No!" Mr. Fawcett, dressed in red and black colours, "which, as we construe colours," painted his temporary temper to the life, walked forth. We cannot

It was repeated Thursday the 22d.

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recollect ever seeing him put on such an angry fighting face. He spoke of duty, but in a way as if to enforce rather than to render it; and somewhat cavalierly hinted that "it was not customary for an audience to command a play,"-true, it is not customary! but it has been often done-and if with less frequency during the last season, it was because the audiences, spite of Macready and Charles Kemble, never derived excitement enough from the " platitudes" wherein these excellent actors were doomed to flounder.-Mr. Fawcett seemed doubtful as to the wishes of the rioters, and left the stage: but a hurricane of hisses, howls, catcalls, and sticks, after reducing the fine Overture of the Barber of Seville and its exordial serenade to pantomime, satisfied him, and he gave out "The Stranger," but without specifying time.*- Begin again, begin again," was now the cry, and Liston, in his own courteous manner, tripped off through the side scene, followed by the alarmed and plump Mr. Pyne! who herein committed a singular faux-pas, as he himself is the prologue of the piece. Alas! alas! we saw-we saw him grasped by the red right hand of the furious manager, and whirled in again before us like a shot out of a saucepan! Afterwards we saw Mr. Jones in the pretty Spanish dress which does but justice to his clean made limbs. This gentleman looks and rattles like gay five-and-twenty; and yet we have some idea that he is rather more. His vivacity effervesces in the warmth of the friendly faces before him, like Champagne before a fire; bang goes the cork, and it flies all over the house-but no! sour French wine is an unworthy comparison-his solid worth is better typified by that unapproachable invention, Welch ale! Nevertheless, notwithstanding (as law parchments run) we are a little uneasy for him in his forthcoming part of Valentine in the Two Gentlemen of Verona.t Perhaps he might as well exchange

Shortly to be revived, with new songs, dresses, scenery, galas, and fêtes of the most splendid description. Gentlemen, have a care of your buttons! Ladies, look that your laces be strong! for Liston plays Launce!

characters with Mr. Abbott, who can look grave before the scenes, though not behind them, as it is rumoured. The interesting Miss M. Tree is slowly recovering from a debility, caused, in great measure, by the mistakes of her physicians: she, however, acted and sang most excellently well in Rosina; her mellow tones sweep round you, rich and deep as the odours of evening. She begins to be once again familiar with her unknown friends in the boxes and pit, who endeavoured, on her re-appear ance in Viola, to make her assurance doubly sure their warm welcome was too much for her faint nerves her voice died, and she nearly sank. -Abbott, who was watching her, kindly and promptly stepped on the stage, and explained her distress she could not, however, proceed in her song. Miss Tree's delicate figure contends sweetly with her honey voice; there is a delicious dispute between the harmony of her notes and the harmony of her proportions What amateur of fine forms, who has had the good luck to see herrin Philidel, will ever forget?-We must look backwards a moment, and then walk over to Mr. Elliston's..

Saturday, the 10th, was distine guished by a damnation The dam nee was entitled the Venison Pasty both the men and women cooks, to wit, Mr. Blanchard, Mr. Liston, Mr. Jones, Mrs. Chatterly, and Mrs. Gibbs, did their possible; but the meat was fly-blown, and the crust rancid. The town ought to be put in possession of the author's name, to the end, that if he should chance to enter a room, the ladies, and the decent, may be requested to leave.

DRURY-LANE.-Two, four, six, eight, twelve, sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one, two, three-only twenty-three people at the pit-door, and the clock on the half-hour's chime. I have mistaken the night-No! "Mr. KEAN's fourth appearance this season!! This evening, Monday, Nov. 19, his Majesty's servants (save his Grace to be so ill served) "will perform Shakspeare's tragedy of Othello. Othello Mr. KEAN!!" "By day and night, but this is wondrous strange."-The bolts shake, the doors open, and in they burst! Not a bit of it-but we crawl for

wards into the funnel, as if we were irresolute whether to enter or return. "Come on a little faster, if you please," says the money-taker..

They manage these things dif ferently in the Garden.-It wants but ten minutes to half past six, and those who are waiting begin to form close columns. Here they speed right and left, thickening the fleshy masses at the three doors.-Lo! the Bow-street officials stalk around with conscious dignity-hark! it is the voice of that active veteran, Dorfaldson." Take care of your pockets, ladies and gentlemen! take particu lar care, I say! tuck in your seals, gentlemen! look sharp, going in! Now-what a shuffling of short stepping shoes over the stone floorin they pour continuous-the steps are scaled by the foremost, and shillings and oaths are thrown about!

now the wave sweeps on now the refluent tide loses momentary ground: some exhort, "Keep up there;" others dehort, "Don't shove behind so!" See those unhappy John❤ ny Raws, who have been squeezed without the current. How they struggle to weather the balustrade, while the toil-drops fall from their brows like rain.-Here a pale fright ned girl, gasping for breath, looks imploringly at her arm-pinioned father, who, black in the face from pressure, tells her "not to mind; while a good-natured old stager de sires her to push against him, and ease her chest.-" Madam," says a smartly dressed young man to a roundabout dame from the Minories, "I am extremely grieved that it is not in my power to prevent my ribs from pinching your elbow. If you could contrive to extract it presently,"-" Now Sir, as quick as you can," says the keen Mr. "Take up your check! Now Sir, for how many? Get your money ready, ladies and gentlemen! There, Sir." "What sort of room?”"Good standing room yet!"-and this is often our luck after waiting a quarter of an hour in the windy arcades.

Far otherwise last night-we walked hither and thither, where we listed, before we chose a centre seat on the fifth row. The pit did fill, however, before half price; but the

boxes were poorly attended, and the slips were completely empty the whole evening. The house looked cheerless and cold, and it was so; we fairly shivered when the curtain drew up, and long before it had dropped were sneezing violently.*

Mr. Cooper got through Iago very creditably, and made no " damnable faces;" but his manner of rousing Othello's poisonous drop, in the third act, wanted more art to give it colour. It was not artless, but dogmatical; his suspicions did not ooze from him, but poured out in a good set style he was rhetorical and didactic. The two speeches, "Good name in man," and "O beware, my lord, of jealousy," had not the least resemblance to a natural exposition of thoughts suggested by unlookedfor manifestations on the part of the Moor (to give them the which is certainly Iago's cue); they were most naked, well-chewed aphorisms, philosophical maxims; not nets to entangle the understanding or the senses, but springes to catch woodcocks. Mr. Cooper is not likely to see this; Kean is: and we admonish him, that his affecting exclamation "O, misery," thus loses half its effect. We do not pity the victim of a cunning knave, but despise the dupe of a clumsy impostor.-Mr. Cooper's villain wanted poignancy, bitterness, subtlety, and insidiousness not that he should frown and wink his eye at the audience, and grin ghastly smiles, which no one else is to see but those who paid their money for it-No! ars est celare artem, Iago's works shall unfold Iago, not Iago's words. Without "converting him into a pattern of comic gaiety, and good humour," he may throw over the part more of the free, off-hand assurance of the Soldado, which passes for an honest bluntness. This is by no means inconsistent with the most accomplished artifice, as we know. But Cooper must not take his notions of the Italian Ancient from a Cornet of the Life Guards (we beg pardon, a Sublieutenant). The general's standard was formerly a man of high consideration, either for worth or rank. He should have his gold chains of

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goldsmith's work, and his medal, his triple-piled velvet cloak of peace, his "Florentine cloth o' silver jerkin,' slashed and decorated with knots of ribbons; or an inlaid corslet of Milan steel. The fashion of his sword hilt shall march with his fierce Venetian cap, and sharp twisted mustachios; his hosen shall be silk, his ample breeches Damascene, and the gilt dagger of most express workmanship. These things, however, are recondite. As it is, Cassio and Iago look like militia doctors, who put on their regimentals seldom-but that Mr. Kean should consent to have the Venetian generalissimo rendered perfectly ludicrous, by a Cavalry's kettle-drummer's frippery, is almost incredible. We laugh at Holbein's Abraham attired like Harry the Eighth, yet tolerate absurdities quite as gross. "But, perhaps, the appropriate costume is more unbecom ing than the usual one!" That's impossible-Mr. Kean already looks round-shouldered and hump-backed; and any change must be for the bet ter: but it so chances that correctness would here ensure grace, and give the little man height and importance. Surely then, it is as well to be right as wrong. Miss Smithson, who is a very goodly-figured girl, when she keeps her shoulders down, repeated the words of Desdemona as well as could be expected;

and Mrs. Egerton was far too coarse and loud in Emilia. "Gentle Willy's" Emilia was a Venetian lady with a rolling eye, and a moist palm-but we forget, the manager's copies have it otherwise. Of Kean's noble Moor it is almost idle to speak, after the acute critiques of Hazlitt: in our next number we shall wiredraw some of his compact cubic thoughts, and make a few observations on the mingle mangle which is presented to play-goers, under the name of Shakspeare's Othello!

The Cobourg, Adelphi, (well worth any person's attention) the Olympic, and the West London, will shortly be honoured with our notices. From the bills of the last-mentioned theatre, by the way, we have gathered several curious pieces of information-for instance, that Dryden

• Fact!

lived two thousand two hundred and forty-two years agone; that he wrote a play called OEAIПYE, and that it was received nightly at Athens, with the most rapturous shouts! The manager has thrown out several other tentamens towards a reformation in

chronology, antiquities, and orthography, as well English, as Greek.His name is Amherst; and he was particularly well damned at Covent Garden, about two years back, in Lee's Alexander.

REPORT OF MUSIC. No. XXII.

INCIDENTS in the musical world are now of rare occurrence. Speculations as to the probabilities of next season, and preparations for the Campaign, furnish all the banquet upon which hungry enquirers are invited to feed; and these, like the legendary entertainments of fairy lore, are but too apt to vanish, or to change their form, ere we can approach to satisfy ourselves with the delicacies they present.

Where Madame Catalani is to take up her head quarters, is a question of some moment. It was not in her intention (on dit) to accept of any connexion with the Opera except as a principal; and it is known that her negotiation for the management, in conjunction with Mr. Harris, of Covent Garden Theatre, has terminated without the wished conclusion. The King's Theatre being let to Mr. Ebers, the interesting doubt arises whether she will or will not appear in that situation where she is most captivating. We are told, also, that she has asked the apparently enormous sum of 2,000l. for her assistance at the Covent Garden Oratorios, and that her engagement is not yet decided. In the meanwhile, she has been singing at Concerts at Bath, which have been very fully attended; but the sweet facility of Mrs. Salmon is reported to have outrivalled her grander attributes in the public favour. An anecdote is told of a lady, who not being able to obtain admittance, applied to M. Vallebreque (not knowing his connexion with Madame Catalani) to procure her admission. Mr. Vallebreque, with his known attachment to the qualities of his wife, assured the fair solicitor, that such were the prodigious attractions of Madame Catalani, that he feared it would be impossible to gratify her wishes. "O!" said the lady, "but I don't care about

Catalani, I want to hear Mrs. Salmon.” The mortified Frenchman immediately applied to Monsieur C. N. B. to make the enquirer sensible of the magnificent powers and acquirements of Madame Catalani; unfortunately, however, the musician spoke English (he said) with such difficulty, as to render explanation, through him, impossible. But who can hear and see Madame Catalani, and not find excuse for the pride of the husband, in the possession of so lovely, so superior a creature? There is, too, another fact, which outweighs an hundred such as the former. After singing at a large engagement for Mr. Loder, a violinist, who takes equal rank with the first musicians of the country, for his ability both as a leader and a player, she returned to him the whole sum, in token of her respect for his talents and character.

The French paper, L'Etoile, has attacked that part of the account of her travels which relates to France, in some important particulars. The Editor states, that the salary she received from the government is underrated, inasmuch as her year was only seven months, and that she did not engage either Mr. Spontini as a composer, nor Italian singers. The females were English (Mrs. Dickons, Miss Fearon, and Madame Vestris), and the men French and Spaniards. Moreover he declares she did not relinquish the theatre Italien, but was dismissed for unsatisfactory management.

Miss M. Tree, and Miss Hallande, have both, we are happy to find, sufficiently recovered from indisposition to resume their public engagements. Miss Wilson, it is said, goes to Italy for improvement. Mr. Braham has refused a very lucrative offer to visit America. He is right, if he consults his reputation, and would be perhaps more so to retire from public life

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