COVENT GARDEN. Nov. 25. "Twelfth Night" was again performed this evening, to an unusually crowded house. The beauty of the music, and the richness and variety of the scenery are high mate rials of popularity, even if the Drama was of an inferior rank. But a play of Shakspeare must abound in all that poetry has of splendour, and character of truth, and brought forward as Twelfth Night" now is, we conceive that the power of the great author is supplied with another triumph, not abated or dishonoured by the association of delicious music, and romantic scenery. The play was to night performed admirably well. Though Miss Love had taken Miss Greene's part of the Lady Olivia, it suffered no deterio-` ration in her hands. Farren's Malvolio was equally good in the earlier scenes as it had been, and in the latter where the interest had flagged, he exerted himself with as much spirit as the cha racter would bear. But the self admiring steward is facetious only while under the spells of his vanity; and when he comes to their castigation, he grows as dull as his own dungeon. Liston's Sir Andrew is not among his happiest performances. But his humour makes its way, and the carousing scene is equal to any piece of idiot festivity on the stage. The drunkenness which makes his eyes dim and his feet tremble, without making his idiotism more senseless, is admirably conceived, and his attempt to light his pipe was amusingly unsuccessful as it could be, without a more direct imitation of Mathews. Sir Toby has now grown a greater favourite with the audience, as he has thrown more of ease into his part; he is, indeed, a kind of Falstaff, and ought to be played in some measure in the jocularity of the fat Knight. Miss M. Tree's Viola was still pretty and piquant, and if she could infuse more tenderness into her recitation, she would make a perfect representative of one of the most touching of the characters of Shakspeare. Viola's whole dialogue overflows with graceful disguise, the exquisite finesses of a spirit deeply enamoured, and a constant fear of betraying itself. She scarcely makes a speech in which there might not be detected some allusion to her own anxieties, and the charm of the character is almost entirely founded on this struggle between passion aud de Europ. Mag. Vol. LXXVIII. Dec. 1820. licacy, the study to conceal her thoughts, and the overwhelming fondness which renders concealment next to impossible. The Masque was again received with the greatest applause. It is certainly merely a pageant, and the plot altogether escapes the audience; but it has clouds ascending and descending, pavilions and peacocks, palaces of rocks and curtains of sea-weeds, and Miss Dennett enthroned in a shell, a theatric Lady of the Lobster. All this is so shewy, and the colourman and the carpenter have such an undisputed triumph, that we cannot but hope the adaptation of these Plays will be carried on in the same spirit, and meet, and merit the same success. "Twelfth Night" was followed by "Catherine and Petruchio." The hero and heroine were Mr. and Mrs. C. Kemble. This extravaganza was play. ed with great spirit, and the amusement was not diminished to the audience by the actual circumstances of those excellent performers. Catherine was, perhaps, more like an English Gentlewoman attempting the termagant than a true Italian Xantippe; and Petruchio was perhaps too courtly in his appearance for the actual atrocities which he undertakes to commit. those characters were in general vividly performed, and the plaudits were frequent whenever they came forward to lighten the heavy absurdities of this wildest of Italian offences against probability. But This evening a new Melo DEC. 2. drame, called • The Warlock of the Glen" was presented for the first time when the Dramatis Persona were the following: Clanronald, Mr. Connor; The Warlock of the Glen, Abbott; Andrew, Farley; Sandie, Blanchard; Adela, Mrs. Faucit; Marian, Miss Beaumont; Mause, Mrs, Sterling. The Melodrame opens with a view of a Highland stream, by which Andrew the fisherman is waiting for the return of his nephew, Sandie, from the Kirk, with Marian as his bride. Matthew, the Warlock, conceived to be something between a wizard and a ghost, comes on him, to his infinite terror, and commands him to attend his presence at midnight on the heath. The old man promises. The bridal party return, and th fisherman is on the point of le ting out the grand secret of 4 A the interview, when the Warlock emerges from the crowd and frowns bin into silence, and the scene closes with a general dance. This is also a memorable night for the house of Glencairn, for the Dowager Countess, who had been confined in the Castle as a lunatic, makes her escape with her child, and takes refuge with the peasantry; strongly protesting against the tyranny of her brother in law, Clanronald, the present possessor of the estates, and the supposed assassin of the late Earl. The fisherman, in fear of his liege Lord, sends her to the coast, and on her way to it she encounters the Warlock, to the great terror of Sandie, her guide, who flies and leaves her to this formidable interview. On his retreat, Clanronald and his servants seize the child; and the Countess is about to be torn away, when the Warlock again re-appears on the precipice, and appals the usurper by a charge of fratricide. The Countess escapes, and fortunate it was, in our mind, for Mrs. Faucit's individual existence, as an Actress, that she was suffered to pause in her repulse of this melo dramatic monster, for nature could not have held out much longer. She has, however, another escape to undergo, and that sufficiently picturesque and perilous, for she has to spring into the sea from a promontory, some twelve feet high, which though not stupendous for a mountain, is a good deal for a leap. That catastrophe brings in Clanronald, attempting to force the Countess into marriage, but at the moment of approaching the altar, the Warlock forbids the banns. He is then recognised as the lawful lord, who had been preserved by one of the persons employed to murder him, and his lone liness and absence are acounted for by an oath to this preserver not to divulge his existence until the supposed mur. derer was dead. That death had just occurred, and he now stands forward to make his claim. The brother is banished, and every body else made happy. This performance is by Mr. Walker, the author of "Wallace," and very creditable to so young a wri ter. It has considerable incident and pathos; the language is correct, and the characters, though obviously not new, well sustained. The scenery was pretty there was some good music; and altogether the Melo drame was deserving of its applause. Some allu sions to the support of female weakness were caught at by the audience, and violently clapped, and as violently hissed. A few hisses also followed the fall of the curtain, but the performance was successful. Mrs. Faucit had a laborious part, and she played it with great spirit. The sight of females tearing themselves to fragments, and outscreaming all the ravens of the night, is not among our pleasures; but in Melo-drame such things must be done, and it is Mrs. Faucit's praise to say that nobody could do them better. Abbott, in the Warlock, was a fine grim figure, whiskered, and roaring very fiercely and Melo-dramatically; and Farley was bold, busy, and benevolent; a capital drawer of nets, and no slight disturber of the more tender feelings. His outcry for the supposed death of the Coun tess's child, was a fine burst of marine sorrow, the true stormy grief of a Triton. Conuor in the Usurper had an ungracious character, but he got through it well, and bis advance to the fearful act of matrimony was made with grace and gallantry. The announcement of the Melo-drame for a second performance was received with unanimous applause. DEC. 6. "Wallace" continues to be played, and to judge from the state of the audiences, without any diminution of its popularity. Macready sustains the weight of the play, and the general opinion seems to have decided on his sustaining it with spirit and dig. nity. We are not enamoured of this Drama, though we consider it as a clever premature effort. It has been observed that it unfortunately gives no indication of its author's boyhood by the luxuriance of a young imagination, by those picturings of richness and beauty which belong to the age when the mind seems to glow with the fire of the passions, an intellectual Ætna, brilliant with internal flame, and rob ing it's sides with vines and roses. But it has some striking expressions and bold situations, and of those Macready takes advantage with great force. His surrender to Monteith-totally unnatural in fact, for Wallace would have cloven such an entrapper from head to heel-is natural on the stage, from the skill of the actor. His attitude of surrender is a fine expression of bodily powerlessness and mental pain, and his march to the scaffold, though brought too close to the death of Pierre, attracts 4 and deserves great applause. C. Kem. ble's Douglas is a feeble part performed with grace and manliness, and Mrs. Buun's powers, though not much called out in the heroine, are exerted with interest and effect. DEC. 9. Heralded by the loudest eclat of provincial fame, Mr. Vandenhoff from Liverpool, this evening made his debut here in the difficult character of King Lear, and however much common report usually exceeds and exaggerates, in this instance at least every eulogium was well deserved. As an acquisition to a company already most rich in tragic talent, he must be extremely valuable, and his performance throughout was deservedly applauded. To the more prominent passages, he gave every dramatic effect, and be much interested our suffrages in his favour, by not ranting to the galleries. If as critics we must mix some censure with our award of praise, we would suggest an increase of energy in some parts, where Shakspeare evidently intended to picture Lear far less debilitated than Mr. Vandenhoff represented him; this is a fault so easily amended, that it needs only to be mentioned, and we are assured that he possesses too much real ability not to feel the force, and to admit the justice of our admonition. The remaining characters were as usual, except Miss Foote in Cordelia, in which she acquitted herself much to the satis faction of the audience. DEC. 14. To night Mr. Vandenhoff essayed the personification of Kean's celebrated chef d'œuvre of Sir Giles Overreach, though with very far infe rior merit to his prototype, and we request to add, much less effect than be produced in Lear. There were occa sional bursts of grandeur, but they were very isolated, and the whole performance very unequal. We are inclined to beJieve that those are parts in which Mr. V. does not excel, and coming so immediately after our transatlantic wanderer, he should not attempt them. In endeavouring to avoid imitation, he certainly struck out very many of Kean's beauties, but he inserted very few others in their places. C. Kemble and Miss Foote were most efficient in Wellborn and Margaret, but the piece bas not been repeated. DEC. 18. Mr. Vandenhoff this even ing performed Coriolanus to a very full house. In our earlier views of this actor, he struck us as very intelligent, with something to learn and something to forget, but, on the whole, exhibiting decided abilities for his profession. His Coriolanus confirmed those impressions, and there was no part of his playing which did not exhibit the effect of good sense and careful study. His defects are mostly of an extrinsic kind. His figure requires additional grace and facility of movement. His countenance has no peculiar force, and ' his voice is liable to wander into greatfeebleness and hollowness. Whether those defects are still within his power to correct, the result must tell, but the experiment cannot be made too soon. Throughout the play he omitted none of the favourite opportunities for excit ing the attention of the audience, and` he was in general successful. In that most dramatic scene, the last, in which Coriolanus has to undergo the trial of his mother's entreaties and his wife's tears, and in the midst of this melting of his proud spirit, to be maddened by the taunts of his military rival, Mr. Vandenhoff was fortunate, and the contradictory workings of revenge and compassion, and filial and wedded love, were well expressed. But the latter portion, naturally occupying more of his attention, produced stronger applause. In the celebrated passage of 1 fluttered your Volscians in Coriolione I did it,—Boy!" his voice failed, and the effect was impaired, but he recovered himself with dexterity, and was honoured with loud applause. Even after the fall of the curtain, when Egerton, who had played Aufidius, came forward to announce the ensuing performance, Vandenhoff was repeatedly called for; but the custom is vulgar, and we were gratified by seeing that he did not comply with it. He has been well received by the audience, and bis thus chasing Kemble through his great characters, certainly puts him to trials which no ordinary performer could sustain. But he is not wisely made to supersede our earlier favourites; and in justice to the public and to himself, we wish to see the Theatre restored to the regular appearances of all it's leading performers in suc cession. THE FAREWELL CUP TO THE DEAD AT A HIGHLAND FUNERAL. WEd E drink to thee-we drink to thee! Thou whom Flora* has called to rest Thy spirit shall walk on a night like this, creep Lowly and soft while their Kelpies sleep; And whisper them comfort from above. When the Spirit may come from its holy clime, And hear the voices of love and mirth As it heard them once while it dwelt on earth; If it knows not again the ingle-seat Since Love lives not to eternity. Yet lovely and rich is the Spirit's lot, Flora is the name still given to the mistress of good spirits in the Green or Happy Island-a relic of superstition finely resembling the belief of the most ancient Greeks. Duty and decorum in Scotland require the eldest son to sit at the head of his dead father and to lay it in the grave. If the burning heart and the evil eye, The bloom and the balm of household peace, Or the kiss and the tear a mother gives Where the dust of the gold-mine nought avails. Then the bread thou gavest the wandering guest, And the green turf laid on thy mother's breast, Thy deeds of mercy and gifts of good Shall weigh the dust of the world's wealth Ye working men, whose being, health, and toil, Are the true riches of your native soil: For you the fourth commandment was divulg'd, And God is glorified, while man's indulg'd. To-day, from Cornwall's point, to Norfolk's strand, And cross from Dover's straits, to Cambria's land, Assembled churches join with glad accord, In one united form to praise the Lord. Will not the God of Love, well pleased, behold This free oblation of his favour'd fold? Incense of pray'r and praise will higher rise, Than did the smoke of ancient sacrifice. Let fancy range through fair Britannia's isle, And ask the peasant why he wears a smile; Why is he dress'd in neat and clean array ? He goes to meet his God on this his day. He goes, himself, his children, and his wife, To learn the way to everlasting life; Then shall the glory of the Heavens appear, And peace on earth proclaim the Saviour near; Good will toward men, shall ev'ry heart combine, And all the world in one Hosanna join! T. R. TO A YOUNG LADY ON HER COMING OF AGE, NOV. 29, 1820. HORRODING time steals on apace, Cis march no hindrance feels, As many a pleasing form and face Love, friendship, every thing that's dear, Too soon recedes to night. (Eternal bliss in view), Reposing on th' all wise and just, Still virtuous paths pursue. Let thus, dear girl, thy days be spent, LINES N. WRITTEN IN ASPLEY WOOD, SEPT. 1820; HIlove with silent pace to tread, As thro' thy dell I pace, my mind But ah! with grief unfeign'd I see 'Tis vain—I cannot breathe the lay * Lord of Woburn in the reign of Edward the Confessor. + Mark Slingsby, a suffering loyalist under Charles I. |