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the Lord Chamberlain :-The Theatre Royal of Drury Lane; the Theatre Royal, or Little Theatre of the Hays market; and the King's Theatre, or Opera House. I am, Sir,

A CONSTANT READER.

THEATRICAL DEFINITIONS.

1. A brilliant and overflowing Audience-A Pit about three parts empty, and a "beggarly account of empty Boxes."

2. Unbounded applause-Hissing from the beginning to the end of the Piece.

3. New Music, Scenes, and Dresses.Old Ditties, by a new Composer; old Canvas fresh daubed; and old Lace cleaned for the twentieth time.

4. A Revived Play-One that has been acted every Season

5. Due Notice-The notice due, that is, none at all. & The last time this Season-The last time this Week, 7. Positively the last time-Positively no such thing.

E CONTRA.

THE FIRST FOLIO OF SHAKSPEARE.

MR. CONDUCTOR.

Of the celebrated

FIRST FOLIO, I have a very fine and complete copy: nay, it is more than complete; for in collating it I find as follows: which to the Book Collectors, and particularly those of the Shakspeare school, may perhaps be worth communicating.

After page 192 of As you like it, I have a sheet paged thus: 203. 194. It should seem that this inaccuracy in the paging had not been noticed till after the sheet was worked off. The same sheet follows, with the pages corrected; 193 being substituted for 203.

A little further on (the same play) there is another second sheet,—after page 203, comes page 194, and then,

as if to correct this impropriety, the same sheet is repeated, with the pages rightly given, viz. 203, 204.

I concluded that here, as in the former instance, there was merely a rectification of the pages, but on examination I discovered the following variations :

In page 194, the sheet beginning "A ripe age," is given to Orlando. In page 204, it is rightly assigned to the Clown. And the succeeding speech given in page 194, to the Clown, is, in the corrected sheet, appropriated to William.

It is probable that none of the few possessors of the First Folio are aware of these facts. The information therefore will be to them not incurious; but I draw an inference from this discovery which goes beyond mere matter of curiosity. It plainly shews that the Editors of the First Folio were not careless about the Author's text; that the press was not left to chance; that when by ac cident error was committed, they were anxious, notwithstanding the expence incurred by reprinting or canceling, to correct such error; and consequently, it more strongly establishes (in opposition to what some sticklers for the superiority, and authenticity of the second folio, have insinuated) that the FIRST FOLIO, furnishes the only authentic copy of those plays of Shakspeare which were then for the first time published.

It is to be presumed that, if the Editors were so scrupulous as to cancel a sheet on account of mere errors of the press, they were still more anxious that the text itself should be accurately printed from the Author's genuine сору, "absolute in their numbers, as he conceived them." It is singular enough that the sheet as well as the cancel, should, in both instances, have been bound up in my copy;-but so it is.

COLONEL BOWDEN.

This gentleman being in the stage-box one night when Mrs. Pritchard was playing in the masque of Britannia, her pasteboard armour was buckled on so tight, particularly about the neck, that she could hardly articulate her words. This created some confusion for a time; when Bowden, seeing the cause, stuttered out as loud as he could," Will nobody slit that dear woman's drippingpan for her? If they don't, poor Britannia will be nu done."

POETRY.

ODE.

WINTER! thy cloud-envelop'd form,
Thy howling blast, and bitter storm,
To me with nought of terror sound!
For many a day's delight is thine,
When votive each at pleasure's shrine,

We join with smiles of joy, the dancers' merry round.
Dear 'tis to mark the orient blaze

Of May's bright morn; and dear to gaze
Upon the scenes which summer yields,

When nature, deck'd in mellow hue

Spreads her warm prospects to the view,

Of shadowy woods, and lawns, and flow'r emblossom'd fields !

And dear, to nature's simple child,

To mark the close of evening mild,

When sinks the sun in splendid pride,

And leaves upon the lonely glade

A browner tint, a solemn shade,

Whilst lovely seems the scene tho' dim-descried.

But yet to me as dear the joy,

Whilst wint'ry clouds obscure the sky,

The dancers' merry group to join

Where beauty charms, and blandly smiling,

The soul of all its cares beguiling,

Seems, tripping light along, with added charms to shine.

Young health whose cheeks the rose adorn,
Who breasts the cheering breeze of morn,

And e'er delights with exercise to rove,

Joins in the dances' mazy measures,
With many a group of laughing pleasures,
And soft desire, and ever-glowing love!
And cheerfulness of placid mien,
Of witching smile, and brow serene,
Joins, too, the dancers' merry throng;

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And joy with many a sportive lay,

And harmless Jest, and antic gay,

Mingles with happy looks the festive train among!-
When harmony with rapid notes,

In many a varied cadence floats,

And loud the brisk-ton'd viol sounds,

E'en age forgets each latent pain

Joins with wild glee the jocund train,

And to the sprighly tune, with lively motion bounds.

Then e'er with smiles shall I receive thee,

And, winter! e'er a welcome give thee,

For with thee come the dance's pleasures,

Where bound we sportively along

'Midst youth and beauty's blissful throng,

In many a giddy maze to joy's fantastic measures.

Liverpool.

SONNET

FROM THE ITALIAN OF TORQUATO TASSO.

"Tre

gran don vid' io ch'in esser belle, &c."

THREE courtly damsels stood before my sight,
All cast in beauty's mould, tho' each possest
A various charm; yet every shape confest

A form the same, and every gay delight

A sister's air betray'd :

-Each maiden bright

W. M. T

I fondly praised, but one above the rest

Soon kindled love's warm flame within my breast,
And still to her my thoughts will wing their flight;

And still for her I sigh, and still my lyre

Her name, her beauties only can inspire:-
Tho' as her semblance in the rest I view,
Reflected, her in them I must adore,
But sigh, and fear as each I thus pursue,
To rove a traitor to love's mighty pow'r !
Liverpool.

W. M. T

Liverpool.

ODE

IMITATED FROM THE LATIN OF DR. JORTIN.

"Qualis per nemoram nigra Silentia, &c."

Like Silence 'midst her gloomy bow'rs,
The placid fount its waters pours,
And murmuring runs from view concealed,
Thro' lonely vale, and blooming field,
Or leads with wandering curve its flood
Amid the solemn shadowy wood;
Thus for awhile around its source
It mildly bends its varying course,
'Till now with bolder flight it flows
With eddying surge, and rapid sweep,
Yet sinks again to calm repose

Amid the bosom of the deep!
So might I pass my silent way
Hid from the garish eye of day,"
Be mine content, the Muses' lyre,
Nor wealth nor honours I desire;
Nor pant I for the civic crown,
The statesman's pow'r, or judge's gown,
Nor boasts the wreath of glory charms
If won amidst war's dire alarms,
But past my life 'mid simple pleasures,
In age resign'd I'd part with breath,
And, smiling on the world's vain treasures,
Sink in the torpid arms of death!

W. M. T.

SONNET.

Blest soother of the solitary hour,
Sweet poesy! I hail thy pensive pow'r !
Oft' when deserted by the friends we love,

Or doom'd the harrowing pang of pain to prove,
Thy pleasing influence, where the mind can feel,
O'er the sad soul, as softest balm will steal;

Steep in forgetfulness the sense of woe,

And o'er the breast a placid pleasure throw!-
"Tis thine to cheer the mind with grief opprest;

'Tis thine to make man's happiest hours more blest.
Oh! may I ever praise the gladsome day,
That saw me bow submissive to thy sway!
Well may we say, where Virtue aids the name,
Hard is the heart that owns not thy mild claim.
J. M. L.

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