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and more unmannerly. It was not of to the little children of 1896, or to amiss that his duties were over. write to kind friends in 1821. Before
Certain services were nowper- I quitted the banquet-room, I took formed, which generally ended in a the liberty of pocketing a sweetmeat peer, or some other fortunate per- dolphin, filched from the top of the sonage, carrying off a gold cup. Temple of Concord, which I shall The most interesting was the present long preserve amongst my scarce of two falcons to his Majesty from papers and curious coins, as a relic the Duke of Athol.
of the great Coronation Feast. Thus The King's health was about this ended this splendid day. time drunk with great acclamations, I have detailed the particulars of and the national air of “God save the pageant as faithfully as possible; the King" sung in a grand style. I and I only bope that the length of my think I never heard it sung better be- letter, and its tedious minuteness, fore.
will not weary you. I have purThe King, standing up, drank to posely abstained from any political his people; notice of which honour discussion about the exclusion of the was communicated by the Duke of Queen, or her Majesty's morning visit, Norfolk: and very shortly afterwards because I only intended a description (Non Nobis Domine having been of the pageant, and I knew that you sung, in which I heard the King take cared not to have a repeatedly disa part,) his Majesty retired amidst cussed subject discussed again. In the joyous clamours of his people. the same manner I shall desist from
I now descended into the body of sobering the conclusion of my letter the Hall, which was thronged with with any solemn reflections on the splendour and beauty. Hock and events of the day,-you have the champagne, and fruit and venison mind to reflect for yourself, if this pasties, were passing and repassing ; Alexandrine of a letter will allow you and the most brilliant ladies were the time. Do not fail to tell me how snatching at all the good things of you all “ like the play,” and to what this world from officers and gentle extent you have envied me. I think men waiters. I was not idle; for I see Mrs. -struck calmly mad at having asked for a glass of water, and the profusion of satin. being informed “ You get no water,
&c. take the wine, Great Potentate," I fell seriously to work upon a cherry pie,
July, 1821. the nearest dish, and followed this victory up with others of a more de- P.S. If you covet the dolphin, I cisive nature. I forgot that I had will send it to you; but it is a curiosity been famished; and lifting a cup of you must keep from children. I wish burgundy to my lips,declared that the I could pack you up a Knight of the fatigue of the day had been nothing- Bath in all his glory; but I fear he a jest-a merriment-a thing to tell would not bear the carriage.
This month has been rich in events: Even 6. The Cobourg," pride of -the death of Bonaparte has been Surrey (that county where meloproclaimed-the coronation has been, drame has flourished so long, and and passed away-and Mr. Kean has quadrupeds and tumblers still hold escaped from the republicans of the their ancient, but not “ solitary," great continent, and is trans-atlantic reign), has affected the cap and bells, no longer. In addition to these mat- and presented us with a specimen of ters eminently notorious, the summer the burlesque. And yet, the drama theatres have opened their doors, and itself has been very barren of novelty. informed us that they have each a We feel this so much, on commencing pleasant saloon, prodigal of odours our article, that we cannot but enand ices, but leaving us to the dis- tertain a presentiment, that we shall covery of their other attractions. have some difficulty in offering our
readers any detail which will in- even admired him (Heaven forgive terest them.
us- but we were young) in tragedy, The death of Bonaparte was the though we have lived to correct that talk of some two hours ! (who, after error. To see him in Lackland, in this, would be the fool of fame?) Tag, in Jeremy Diddler, in Tangent, and Mr. Kean's return did not produce or in Vapid, is delightful still; but quite the same vivifying sensation as the robe of tragedy encumbers him of old. But the coronation, certainly, he is too pompous; and makes for a time, absorbed all the sympa- « serious mirth” of the Muse; liftthy of the fashionable crowd, and ing her simplest sayings to the was not without its attractions for highest pitch of his utterance, and the vulgar. We suppose that it was drowning her stately periods in the on that account that the summer deep thunders of his declamation. managers delayed producing their In short, he is a very clever comedian, usual stock of farces and operas, and in tragedy indifferently bad. “ operettes,” and “ petites pieces, until the ferment, excited by the royal exhibition, should have sub- Hamlet.-We regret that a day or sided. This was well. There is an two's illness prevented our seeing old catch, beginning, “ It is well to Mr. Charles Kemble in Hamlet. Å be merry and wise;" but this was competent friend of ours, who witbeing dutiful and wise, which is bet- nessed the representation, made very ter still. They wisely, then, forbore favourable report of it; but he has to interfere with state matters, and omitted to send us a statement for left the ceremony of crowning to the Magazine. Mr. Kemble's air stand by itself, the great imposing and person are certainly well qualimarvel of the season. Covent Garfied to sustain the interest of the meden, it is true, used less forbearance, lancholy Hamlet :--of his performand filled its benches with the giddy ance of the character, we can say no and the gay, at the expence of the more than that it gives us pleasure house-proprietors in Palace-yard and to learn that it was successful. Of George-street. Indeed, Drury Lane Miss Dance's Ophelia we have nogot up a sort of phantasma of the thing to say. We saw Miss Stephensy. matter ; but the shadow of regality and heard her, and were content; passed off without doing any injury and our friend (who went for us to to the greater show, or any good to see Hamlet the second time) was too Mr. Elliston. Yet Mr. lliston dissatisfied at Miss Stephens' seces (though he mimicked so indifferently sion, to give favourable report of the the royal pageant) 'is a 'truly loyal lady who succeeded her. man, and menaced the public with Henry IV. Part 11.-This play of three butts of porter to keep up (or Shakspeare has been wonderfully allay?) the fervour of their rejoicings. attractive,-not from its intrinsic Why does not that worthy manager merit, however, great and undeniable enact the king himself, and walk as it is, but from the fact of the with steps, stately and slow, from coronation ceremony having been stage-door to stage-door, before the added, by which the people could eyes of admiring audiences? We see a good representation of the think that a diadem would sit easily courtly pomps, at the moderate exon his brow, and a sceptre would be pence of seven shillings. The lessees but a bauble in his hand. He is ac- of houses and ground in the neighcustomed to ermine and prompt obe- bourhood of Westminster-hall made, dience; and may, perhaps, have as- on the contrary, the most extravagant pirations after state and ceremonial, demands, and suffered accordingly. and the clapping of hands, and shouts We own that we are not very sorry that seem to come from the heart for this, unless where heavy sums of We remember Mr. Elliston when he money were originally asked by the was a “fine, gay, boldfaced” per- Dean and Chapter of Westminster; son, who would have been invaluable in which case it is hoped, for the in a procession. He had all the ease, credit of the church in general, and and something of the grace, of a of the Dean and Chapter in particugentleman of the last age; and we lar, that a portion of the money will confess he pleased us much. We be refunded. A rich public body will scarcely suffer individuals to as may be required. He will do us suffer ruin, or even loss, upon such the justice to recollect, that a good an occasion. Loyalty and good-con- deal goes (or ought to go to the science, and Saint Stephen (who is “ making up” of a true prince. their nearest Saint) forbid ! The plays of Henry IV. are of the
DRURY LANE. finest order of mixed plays. They Rob Roy, Guy Mannering, and a are not entirely comic, nor too tragic few other mixed dramas, have been either; but they are lively, with a got up at this theatre lately, for the pleasant dash of the serious, and a purpose of introducing Mr. Mackay to little of the tragic intermingled. Fal- the public. His reputation had prestaff is the hero of both ; and he is ceded him in London ; and his perbig and witty enough to sustain more formance of Baillie Jarvie, and Doheaviness than is to be found in either minie Sampson, had, it is said, been play. In truth, the second part of pronounced admirable by a high auHenry IV. is occasionally dull enough thority at Edinburgh. With these in representation; and the speeches advantages, Mr. Mackay appeared at of his majesty the king fatigue us Drury Lane; and we confess that even more than they afflict his son. report has done him nothing but Brevity is the soul of dramatic writ- justice. He is the best comedian that ing, as well as of wit; and (though we we have er seen make his debût would not wish a word lost) we could in London. He is marvellously free be content if only part of the scenes from the coarseness and superfluous between the prince and the king were ornament which mark the country represented on the stage; the rest performer; he is earnest in the performwould be more sacred, and we should ance of his part, as well as excellent probably enjoy it more, at home, in the conception of it. He has none from its not having been mouthed at of the indolence or affectation of a the theatre. We say this, of course, spoiled actor, and none of the awkwithout reference to Mr. Macready wardness of a provincialist. There and Mr. Charles Kemble, who made is at once great truth, and spirit, and the dialogue pass off as lightly as precision, in his style ; which, with could be hoped. They both played his moderation, prove him a keen well ; but it was impossible for either observer of manner, as well as a to produce any great effect. It may sensible man. There is no person be remarked, however, that the pause, who plays Baillie Jarvie, or Dominie and searching look which the father Sampson, like him. We do not think cast on his son, when he had taken either of these characters (particularly the crown from his pillow, was not the Baillie) adapted to Liston's taunfelt by the audience, and that the lents; and it is, therefore, saying nodying king's last impressive exhorta- thing in dispraise of him, when we tion was acknowledged by repeated own that we prefer Mr. Mackay to plaudits. Mr. C. Kemble looked him. Mr. Mackay, it is true, could regally, and became his throne. No not compete with Liston in Lubin king, from the conqueror of Agin- Log, and such characters; nor is court to the present times, ever had there any one who can approach him. such a princely representative. We He is altogether inimitable. But on wish that he had been more “ į the Scotch ground, Mr. Mackay may rest smile ;” but perhaps the audience his foot very securely, without apprewould have deemed it vulgar. Faw- hension of a rival from our English cett played Falstaff, in parts, well. theatres. We sincerely trust that he Farren was Mr. Justice Shallow; but will have a permanent engagement he disfigured the justice of peace, we next season, and have an opportunity thought, and reduced him to a mere of acting with other support than he inanity. Emery looked portentous received lately. Cooper was Rob in Silence. We thought that the Roy - Mrs. Harlowe, Helen - Mr. markets were fast “ coming down;" Horne and Mr. Barnard, Francis and and that he had his granaries full, Rashleigh Osbaldiston—a Mr. Vinand huge droves of bullocks on hand. ing, Dougal, and so on. Besides Mr. Claremont must forgive us if we this, there was on Mr. Mackay's do not admire his Prince) John, or night (we were sorry to see it), a Thomas, we forget which) so much.“ beggarly account of empty boxes." THE ENGLISH OPERA HOUSE letters on his face, and he is as queis one of the pleasantest of all pos- rulous as hard work and one meal sible places. There is Miss Kelly a-day can possibly suggest or excuse. there, who is enough to satisfy the We wonder that he has never been most fastidious of critics, be it in engaged at one of the winter theatres. comedy or tragedy, melodrame or He has something of the quality of farce. She has not the full sweep of Liston about him, but without that tragedy, perhaps; and falls short in actor's fine spirit of burlesque, and stature; and has a voice less powerful without that power of filling up a than Mrs. Becher (Miss O'Neill); character, by bye-play and high cobut her powers of pathos are, to our louring, which Liston possesses. Inapprehensions, greater, and her ex- deed he carries his originality a little ercise of them more legitimate and too far sometimes, and forgets the true. She acts a dumb or a blind boy advice of the Prince of Denmark to in a way that makes us forget that the players. any sense is wanting or imperfect, or We will not trouble our readers rather sheds such a grace upon in- with an analysis of the petite piece firmity as to make it unpleasant no called “ Love's Dream,” which has longer. She plays a scene in “ Inkle been presented at this theatre ; but and Yarico” in a manner more heart- we will assure them that it is very rending than we have ever seen; and light and pleasant, and that if they the trembling earnestness of her voice want an hour or two's amusement, is, beyond comparison, more powerful they cannot do better than see this, than the stately periods, or artificial and the new farce of “ Twopence," shrieks of more highly reputed ac- which follows. The first is the story tresses. In comedy she is quite un- of a lover's quarrel, which ends in the rivalled in the present day; and there usual manner. Mr. Pearman is the is no one in our recollection, except lover, and Miss Kelly the “ admired Mrs. Jordan, who can compare with Miranda” (or rather the Cecilia Dorher. Besides Miss Kelly, there is mer) of the piece. They misunderWrench, the most easy of actors. He stand each other, and pout and quarcomes on and goes off like an old rel. The lady is affianced to Mr. glove. If he never stimulates you Frederick Easy, (what a name for much, he at least never fatigues you. Wrench, who acts Mr. Easy !) and He has all the colloquial pleasantness yielded up with sighs and a torn heart of an acquaintance, and never ob- by Henry Morton (Mr. Pearman), trudes a disagreeable topic. No one who sings his woes melodiously, but can be more merry than he, unless it, commits mighty havoc with the diabe Harley, who generally follows him logue. Simon (Mr. Easy's servant) on the stage, and is either servant, or is played by Harley, who sleeps, pedagogue, or apothecary, as circum- sorely against his inclination, in stances require. This latter actor is a haunted room, which Miss Cefuller of mirth than any man in our cilia Dormer, who walks in her memory: he seems restless under his sleep, has made “holy ground.” Siweight of animal spirits; and goes off mon has a reasonable quantity of sulike a bundle of crackers, joke after perstition, and has an utter aversion joke, sudden, startling, and irresistible. to ghosts and gunpowder. To the latIn calm contrast to Harley, may be ter he has become averse, from the placed his compeer Wilkinson, who is circumstance of Mr. Easy, who is a as indolent as the other is spirited and “good shot,” having killed his horse uneasy. He seems always to be in under him to the former he has the “ passive mood,” to be swayed innate objections. The principal to and fro by the dialogue, and to give scene in this piece, is one wherein himself up to the wit of the piece, Miss Kelly plays the somnambulist, like one who is helpless. But he is and discourses touching certain points the receptacle of a good deal of hu- which are absolutely necessary for mour; and the fun oozes out of him the proper termination of the love as surely, though as slowly, as the disputes. We must own that she drops come from the " serpent-pipe” acts very excellently in this, although in the process of distillation. He we think it a pity that she has so plays a charity boy capitally: hunger much to say. The hush and scatterand discontent are written in plain ed exclamations in the scene of Lady pare Mr.
Macbeth, have far greater effect than has nothing to do with words we the long conversation which we hear admire his stature, his frowning, in “Love's Dream;"_but compari- “awful as Jove,”-his dumb explasons are odious; and we will not com- nations, his menaces, his appeals to
(we do not know the heaven ;-but when he speaks, the author's name) with Shakspeare.- charm is broken. He always re“ Two-pence,” 'is a lively bustling minds us of the terrible Pizarro. But little farce, and is, as it justly an- of Mr. Rowbotham, who enacts Capt. nounces, as broad as it is long.” It Dashington, and such beaux,-or of is written by a very lively young Mr. Pearman, whom dialogue does writer, Mr. Peake, who was the au- not suit so well as song, what shall thor, as will be recollected, of a very we say? To the one, as to the other, laughable piece, called, “ Amateurs we may apply the lines of Porsonand Actors," which was played last (keeping in mind Mr. T. P. Cooke's season with great success. Mr. Peake similitude) has a good deal of the true spirit of Of Alonzo we've only this little to say, joke in him; and burlesque comes His boots were much neater than those of easily, as well as pleasantly, off his
Pizarro. pen. There is something of this
A even in the dramatis personæ; and
young debutante, of the name of the alliteration falleth sweetly on our
Forde, has appeared as Polly in the ears—for instance:
Beggar's Opera. Polly is not to be
played but by an accomplished Orpheus Bluemold (more fond of his Bas- singer, and Miss Forde is as yet in
soon than his business), Mr. Harley. Roderick Rappington (not worth a penny),
experienced and young. Her style Mr. Wrench.
savours somewhat of the school: she Tommy Patts (Pupil and Apprentice to
wants freedom and air both in voice Orpheus), Mr. Wilkinson.
and action ; and she is not at preAriadne (Niece to Mr. Bungay), Miss sent adapted to the stage. A year Stevenson.
or two may, probably, make her a But the farce itself is such as to pleasant concert singer; but a year beguile a man of his smiles, let him
or two should certainly be given to be a dissenter ever so strong.
study. Miss Wilson wants (not should like to hear that Mr. Peake Miss Forde, and she has done wise
freedom, but) science, as much as had written a character for Munden. We think he would turn that vete- ly, if report say true, in going to ran's eyebrows to account, and place
Italy. a pot of ale in his hand, and a bit of narrative, or a naïve speech, in his This new theatre, which has arisen mouth, so as to produce more than like an exhalation since the last common effect. As Mr. Peake is one season, has opened its gay portals of the pillars of the Lyceum, we see for the reception of its summer comno reason why he should not lend his pany. The old Haymarket theatre helping hand to prop the prouder arch- was sadly in decay, and its numeres of Drury Lane. Harley is already ous inconveniencies were scarcely at that theatre ; and we hope that counterbalanced by the air of famiWrench will be there next season ; liarity, aud want of pretension, which and our author has shown already belonged equally to the place and what he can do for these two excel the persons who frequented it. There lent actors. Before we quit the Ly- is an imposing state about the winceum, we should not forget Miss J. ter theatres, that seems to demand Stevenson, who is a pleasant young the preparation of dress: silk and actress, and pretty ; her articulation muslin, and fine linen' belong of is rather too elaborate, and she wants right to their widely extended boxes; ease ; but she has a good deal of ear- but we go to the Haymarket, and nestness, and seems always on the the Lyceum, as to a friend's house, qui vive. Mr. T. P. Cooke, who is to laugh and enjoy ourselves. We one of the Lyceum corps (or was do not know that any of the old last year,—we have not seen him pleasure is actually subtracted from there this season), is really eminent the Haymarket ; but we have scarceas a melo-dramatic performer ; but ly learned to make ourselves at home dialogue is his bane. So long as he there yet. The paint and distemper