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the powers for which the public give them credit? To be sure, the difference between Mr. Kean's genius and Mr. Young's talent is, in our present opinion, enormous. That of the one is all fire-while that of the other is coldness itself. We shall certainly be at Drury-lane at this "great union;" and if Mr. Young should rise in our estimation, we will, as honest critics, do him justice—ample justice.

The new after-piece of the Two Galley Slaves (brought out on the same night that a piece of the same name was produced at Covent-Garden) is a long and rather tedious translation, or adaptation, from the French. It seems to us very well for the summer theatres and minor houses to copy the police-passion of the French melodrames ;-but when such melodrames come to be dragged out to their utmost length, on the boards of the larger theatres, they become wearisome in the extreme. The interest of the present Folly turns upon a young bridegroom being discovered to have the felon's mark on his wrist (which he had taken to save a brother). He is persecuted by a runagate slave from the galleys, who recognises him, and who, by threats of exposure, for a time subdues him to conceal him, and even to wink at his thefts. In the end the bridegroom's innocence and magnanimity are made manifestand the vile slave is disgraced. The incidents are tediously spun outand we must say, they order these things better at the Old Bailey and Clerkenwell. Indeed, we very much dislike this dramatic mixture of crime and romance-this" great union" of the Newgate Calendar and the Arabian Nights.-If it be continued, our remarks and strictures will be useless, and Sir Richard Birnie shall be your only Aristarch! The judge, and not the critic, must -take his seat on the bench. There will be a full court, not a full house. In giving out the play of the night, the person announcing it will not address those before him as "Ladies and Gentlemen," but as "Gentlemen of the Jury."-And when the trial has taken place, and the verdict is brought in, Mr. Terry will be -found guilty of manslaughter; Mr. Young will be sentenced to be trans

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ported, as the only chance of amending him; Mr. Penley, Mr. Barnard, and Mr. Carr, will be sentenced to so many months in the House of Correction :-six will be ordered to be publicly, and three privately, whipped:-Mr. Cooper will be directed to pay one shilling and be discharged-And on the next day, the Recorder, and not the Critic, will make his report,-when Mr. Kean and Mr. Munden will be ordered for execution on Monday next! What a tide in the affairs of men !– What dramatic justice!-Seriously, we should be satisfied if French fashions in bonnets and dramas were copied no longer. Mr. Pocock lives

and while he lives, can the lovers of melodrames despair?

On Thursday the 21st, Mr. Braham appeared on these boards as the Seraskier, in the opera of the Siege of Belgrade-and he filled the house, as usual, with his voice and the public. His style of singing appears to us to get more florid every day, and in some of his songs it is difficult to trace the original air. The song of "My heart with love is beating," which is the Maid of Lodi in other words, was the only one allowed by the vocalist to go alone: the rest were but "the limbs, and outward flourishings." Miss Forde sang well, but not wisely ;-and Madame Vestris was in petticoats.

The Provoked Husband has been produced with a fine cast, to use a dramatic phrase:-Elliston in Lord Townley (this is late in the day)— Munden in John Moody-Dowton in Sir Francis Wronghead-Mrs. Davison in Lady Townley!-These names would float the heaviest comedy in the world! Let the worshippers of Munden's awful visage fancy it playing the running and flourishing accompaniment to his tongue's relation of the disastrous journey to London!-The family coach turning its wheels like a village mill-and laden after the mode of a baggage waggon;

while his eye rolls as solemnly as the wheel itself!-Doll's inducement not to ride backwards;-accompanied with a heave of the features utterly alarming. The drag of Munden's mouth seems all-sufficient for one of Pickford's Vans on the steepest descent!-The Provoked Husband is an amusing comedy, owing to its

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The Drama.

happy combination of the elegant in comedy with the broad in farce: the alternate scenes of Lady Townley's dissipation, and her Lord's graceful correction of it-and of Sir Francis Wronghead's hopeful family, relieve each other most happily. We see no reason why this sort of comedy should not be built for modern use; -we are sure it would let well.

COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE.

The Galley Slaves, as we have mentioned, live at this house, and are perhaps a trifle less tiresome than their neighbour; but our objec tions are to the genus rather than the species. Mr. Kemble's Slaves approach a little nearer towards common sense in their language than Mr. Elliston's; though we are at a loss to discover the general necessity which appears to exist on the stage for melo-dramatic ladies and gentle men to speak in flowery English. The two couple of Galley Slaves absolutely talk sun-flowers and holy oaks to each other. Might not the Thous and the Thees be discardedand the language be suffered to be more colloquial?-The only performer we liked at either house in these pieces was Mrs. Chatterley and she played a young widow in white, in a way to make widows

scarce.

Miss Lacy has not given up the We have ghost of tragedy yet. seen her in Mrs. Haller, in the Stranger, and have beheld her tears-and heard her one scream. She has good sense,--but none of the fine madness of tragic passion. The house seemed satisfied:-we were not so.-But the play is enough to drive a world to drowsy melancholy. Mr. C. Kemble looked too well for the heavy gentleman in hopelessness and hessians. Why is the Stranger always played in those tremendous boots? Are they Melancholy's seven-leagued ones? Mr. Meadows does not enliven the play.

But the theatre has made one triumphant hit; it has produced a powerful and original tragic actress! Miss F. H. Kelly, from the Dublin theatre, seems likely to fill up the space so long left empty by the fatal marriage of Miss O'Neill-we mean fatal as regards the public. The person of Miss Kelly (there is a magic in the

name) is good, but not very strik
ingly fine or graceful:-her face is
extremely interesting, though far
from being of that cast which we
generally look for in tragedy. Not
that a face is infallible, however
tragic in its outline, for we all remem-
ber Miss Dance's features. The part
Miss F. H. Kelly selected for her
debut was Juliet-and the simplicity
and bashfulness of this character in
the early scenes render it eminently
fitted for the timidity and confusion
of a first appearance. Miss F. H.
Kelly had in some way sent her name
before her, and there was considera-
ble expectation amongst those who
are stage-learned, that she would
take a flight above the Lacys and
Wests of the day. Mr. Macready is
said to have been her preceptor,→
and, indeed, we fancy that we detect
The house
some of his fitful earnestness in
her occasional manner.
was not very well attended on the
first night of her appearing,-even
though her character had forerum her,
and though the tragedy of Romeo
and Juliet was revived, as John Kem❤
ble was used to revive Shakspeare's
plays, with the utmost possible splen-
dour and care.

The pit filled tediously. The boxes did not fill at all. But a few scenes convinced us that a young lady of surpassing ta lent was before us. She was timid,

but not scared from her purposesubdued, but full of purpose. Her love scene in the balcony was all passion-and the silence of the house gave the moonlight witchery of the meeting all its truth and beauty. She seemed to lean upon the air-to be buoyed up from her lover's arms only by the voice which ascended to her. Her manner of returning, after the brief retirement, and of calling back Romeo, was the music of motion and sound!-Her scene with the nurse too was delightful,-though reminding us slightly of Miss O'Neill. But her way of uttering the word "hanished,' was perfect: - this one word so uttered would make her a The later tragic actress in itself. scenes in the play, the scenes of agony and horror,-were admirably played-and the audience, at the termination of the tragedy, rose in one enthusiastic mass to cheer her success. By this accession to the company, this theatre has gained more

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than any theatre has gained since the day of Miss O'Neill. As yet we have seen her but in Juliet-she will, however, very much surprise and disappoint us, if she do not realize all that is now hoped and said of her in all her future characters. Her voice is, without exception, the clearest and

most unaffected we ever heard:-in this we cannot be deceived.

C. Kemble played Romeo with infinite spirit and grace. The scenery is beautiful-and, from the first, the house has been crowded nightly. Upon what chances does the success of a theatre depend!

REPORT OF MUSIC.

Musical facts are but scanty at this season. We could indeed, anticipate a coming festival next week at Cambridge, where a new Oratorio from Dr. Whitfield (ci-devant Clarke) and Miss Paton are to be produced. We might fill up with the progress and institution of Amateur Concerts in sundry places, down to some even of no greater extent than the venerable town of St. Albans, where we are told by the journals that “the performances both vocal and instrumental, consisting of the most modern works of Haydn, Mozart, and Rossini, are excellent." We are heartily glad to hear it, for we rejoice at the increasing establishment of schools for the practice of the art. In London too, there is little for us, except anticipation. Here, however, we may indulge our powers of prediction. Some material changes will happen in the musical world this season. M. Bochsa had last year the Covent-Garden Oratorios, and he has them this season. He has also taken those of Drury-Lane, at which place he is engaged as Director and Composer of the music. M. Bochsa, we more than suspect, hankers after the conduct of the City Amateur Concerts, which are, it seems, abandoned by the committee who managed them so prosperously-no reason being assigned except "the villainous inconstancy of man's nature." What with teaching, writing, and his post as Secretary to the Board of the Royal Academy, this gentleman seems to have enough upon his hands, prolific as his genius must be allowed to be, and industrious, enterprizing, and untired as he is in body and in spirit. "Too many irons, &c." is a proverb somewhat stale, but he may perhaps turn an eye to it with advantage. He is already regarded with envy, hatred, malice, and all

uncharitableness, by a good many folks who ought to have better feelings, and these malignities will not be diminished by the display of a temper that grasps at every thing. We wish him well, but to be well he must not undertake more than it is possible for him to perform satisfactorily to himself and the public.

But what could the noble committee of the Royal Academy be thinking about, when they promoted to the office of secretary to the Board of an Institution, having objects purely national for its basis, and dependent upon the voluntary contributions of the British public, a Frenchman, who can neither write nor speak the English language? The difficulty the committee labours under with respect to the modest dis-tance our own professors preserve, and the complete knowledge which M. Bochsa possesses of the arrangements made in the French Conservatoire, will probably be assigned as sufficient reasons for this appointment. But we are inclined to fear the Committee will find, that amongst the errors they have fallen into (we admit principally in the ardour of their zeal for the cause) this is not the least important.

At length, we are told, a stand is to be made for English music, and an endeavour used to exalt the prophet to the rank and reception of a prophet in his own country. A series of Concerts for the purpose of performing the works of our own countrymen, and especially those of living composers, and by English artists, is to be tried. The scale will not be large, the conductors being determined to begin warily. Res parvæ crescunt, and we hope they will find the adage true. Enough has been said in our former reports, we trust, to establish, that there are

English composers capable of producing good and original music, and that there are English singers quite equal to most of foreign growth and nurture. We are sure enough has been written to prove, even more satisfactorily, that unless due encouragement be given to some such institution as the one to which we allude, English art will soon cease to survive except in the memory, and will certainly be driven out of present competition. We delight in Italian music, but we love England and Englishmen and Englishwomen better still. We believe our own country is the birth-place of genius as commanding as Italy herself, if fair play were shown; and we do most heartily rejoice in this brave stand. It will be a reproach to the country, if it fail to meet encouragement in a degree so extended as to have a title to the term national.

We may now seize the opportunity afforded us of continuing our sketch of the portraiture of Vocal Art, which we began in a late number.

From the great Sopranos (of the lesser lights more perhaps hereafter), we descend to the next line in the staff, the Counter Tenor. This "still small voice," it is true, "makes but little noise in the world," but its sounds are not the less worthy of regard. There was a time, indeed, when ministers and plenipotentiaries were taken from this race of men, then degraded in person below the whole species only to be exalted in condition above the greater part of it; when one such voice was the only emollient that could soothe the disposition of one of the most gloomy, though not the least powerful of monarchs; and when another upon the portico of his palace paralleled his achievements with the marvels related of the ancient sovereigns of the Lyre, Amphion, Thebas, Ego, Domum, will remain as long as the name of Guadagne is held in remembrance-a monument either of the arrogance or the wit of the Italian, as it shall be taken. The Contralto of the present day enjoys, however, no such lofty distinctions; and though Mr. W. Knyvett, Mr. Terrail, and Mr. Evans, may raise, and we hope they have already laid the foundations of a comfortable fortune, it will not be given to any of these very worthy professors

either to take a prominent part in the conduct of public offices, or to build palaces, except, indeed, it may please the historical poets or the poetical historians of after times, to dignify the place Mr. T. holds in the customs, and the share Mr. K. has had in erecting the Royal Harmonic Institution, with such superb designations.

Our business is with their singing, which is pretty nearly confined (when they adhere strictly to their proper employment) to glees and part songs. Of the three, Mr. Knyvett is perhaps the least powerful in voice, if we may employ such a term upon the falsette, which always seems so feeble when heard alone, as to render the singer an object of pity to the judg matical and of derision to the ignorant. But he makes up in finish and delicacy of manner, what he lacks in volume. He is rarely heard alone, except at the Concert of Ancient Music, where once or twice in a season he sings "Jehovah Crowned," or one of Handel's airs. Mr. Terrail has more volume, but less polish and sweetness, though an excellent musician and an agreeable performer; but his voice is more mixed in quality, and he employs his tenor notes with more effect. Mr. Evans comes nearer Mr. Knyvett. It is curious, that while there is a clear path to fortune open to a good bass-and while a tenor would not find many competitors, counter tenors abound, and their province is also abridged by the occasional employment of females. Mrs. Bellchambers is one of these, has a good voice, and, under the able instruction of Sir George Smart, may perhaps make greater way than Miss Venes, a pupil of Mr. Bellamy, who has also some fine middle and low notes.

There is no department of Vocal Art which appears to have undergone a more complete revolution than this. Purcell wrote very much (in his duetts especially) for this voice; and by their compass and sentiment one would be led to imagine the counter tenors of that day had natural voices of power and volume. Next came the reign of the artificial counter tenor. But Handel also employed the low female voice, or contralto, and such songs as Return O God of Hosts, and, Then long Eternity, served to

immortalize Signora Gallet and Mrs. Cibber. Now we have the alternate reign of the natural falsetto (to speak in good Irish English), as contrasted with the artificial, of whom Signor Roselli was (and we hope will be) the last England ever endured. Its use, however, is almost confined to glees, where it flavours the compound like perfumes in liqueurs, mixing and refining, but scarcely increasing the body. When the Italian opera had Grassini, she rivalled Billington herself in her zenith; and perhaps there is no voice so beautiful or expressive as the legitimate contralto, which has the brilliancy of a soprano without its shrillness, the mellowness, and almost the force of a tenor, without

its thickness. Miss Hallande should

be our example, if she were better taught, and had confined herself to the lower and natural compass of her voice, instead of reaching after the higher and false tones of her voce di testa. She might have been made into a magnificent singer. But when will there arise a philosophical teach er of the art?

As it is, the Counter Tenor makes but a slight figure, except in concerted pieces. Nothing solo is written for it, except parts of ecclesiastical scores, and these principally for Catholic worship. Yet to this voice must always belong the attributes of pathos and delicacy beyond any other.

Nos. 3 and 4 of Mr. Ries' Scotch Ballads, arranged for the pianoforte. No. 3 is, O saw ye my Father, with variations, which are original, though perhaps somewhat singular. The expression of the air is certainly not adhered to, nor is the melody made sufficiently prominent. With

this drawback, some of the variations are effective, particularly Nos. 3, 4, and 8. The subject of No. 4 is, O for Ane and Twenty, Tam, arranged as a rondo. The introduction is very beautiful, and the rondo, although quaint, is animated.

Carafa's favorite Cavatina, O cara Memoria, arranged as a Divertimento for the pianoforte, by Francesco Lanza. The introduction in the style of a prelude is in good taste, and the allegro movement elegant; many of the passages are, however, so much crowded with notes, as to cause some little confusion; particularly in respect to rhythm; great attention on the part of the performer to the marks of expression can only, and then but in a slight degree, remedy this defect.

The Jessamine, a march and rondo for the pianoforte, is in a smooth and easy style. It has an ad libitum accompaniment for the flute, and is a very pretty lesson for beginners.

the pianoforte, Haydn's symphony, La Mr. Watts has arranged, as duetts, for Chasse, and four favourite airs from Rossini's Opera of Tiovaldo e Dorliska.

Nos. 5 and 6, of Mr. Nicholson's Fantasias, for the flute and pianoforte. They are elegant productions, and calculated to give great facility.

Bolivar's Triumphal March for the pianoforte, by T. Cooke, is bold and spirited, the melody agreeable and effective. The Sun in Clouds of rosy Hue, a notturno for two voices, by C. M. Sola, is very smooth, and sweet music, simple and sooth ing.

Three Glees for three, four, and five voices, by J. C. Clifton. The first is Bacchanalian, but not so good as the second, which is pastoral, and in a sweet madrigal style. The third is termed epic, being a few lines from Gray's, On a Rock, whose haughty Brow. It begins with a bass recitative, followed by a short chorus, when follows an allegro, and the glee concludes the bass again speaks in recitative; then with a cantabile movement. This is written for effect, and in the choral parts will probably succeed. The bass recitative sinks under the comparison which the mind is drawn to institute with Dr. Callcott's

splendid openings of a similar cast.

We may close our article with noticing a sweet song, the words by Mr. Planche, To hearted. The air is plaintive, and it is the Cot of my Love Ï return'd brokenaltogether superior to the million.

ABSTRACT OF FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC OCCURRENCES. ALTHOUGH from every appearance in the political world, we should not be surprised at occurrences of universal and overwhelming interest, still it is scarcely possible to conceive papers more barren of all real intelligence than those of the last month. Were we indeed disposed to substitute report for fact, and conjecture for occurrence, our abstract might

present a varied and diversified aspect. The Congress of Vienna gave rise, as might have been expected, to a thousand mystifications; and news rolled in upon us, wave after wave, each formidable in its approach, but breaking into foam as soon as it touched the shore. The invention of the hour had its intended operation on the Stock Exchange, and was

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