There, with some pure seraphic choir, Newbury. THE ROSE-BUD. HARRIET pluck'd an unblown rose, “E'er this young rose its sweets disclose, "Why bring me this," I quick replied, ""Twill soon expand,” she blushing cried, "This bud," resum'd the lovely maid, "Then e'er it opes its tender head, "The captive rose to free; "Before its perfum'd sweets are shed, "Oh! pluck it from the tree. "Then let it feel thy heart's warm power, "Oh nourish it with care, "And Gratitude will teach the flower She plac'd the rose-bud next my heart, A thorn was planted too. LLEKEIT A DEBTOR'S SOLILOQUY, IN PRISON. I. AH! now secluded from the world's routine, II. No friend have I whose sympathetic tear III. Yet in this dire abode of woe and care, Reflection oft will yield my heart relief: That those-e'en those who wealth and pleasure share, Make fancied ills the cause of keenest grief. IV. For why regret the joys that quickly die, and gay? Whose forms alone allure the young V. But pitying Heav'n, to ease my tortur'd breast, I look for happiness beyond the tomb. VI. There virtue dreads no sorrows unreveal'd-- H-VOL. XXII. VII. Tremendous thought-by various feeling press'd, VIII. See the vile sceptic, who a God disown'd, His misspent life in death's last fleeting hour. IX. Oh! happy we, could we but think it so: Remov'd afar from ev'ry tempting vice;- And change a prison to a paradise. OMEGA. MEMORANDA DRAMATICA. HAYMARKET. Since our last Mr. Dibdin, who literally writes currente calamo, has produced a merry little comedy called the Finger Post, or Five Miles off, which has filled the theatre for more than twenty nights, and has not yet finished half its course. It is one of his happiest efforts, and the laughing philosopher himself, could he have been present, would have been obliged to hold both his sides from the first scene to the last. We shall not put Mr. Dibdin on his trial for having outraged probability, and sinned against the rules of comedy. He would instantly plead guilty to the charge, and it would be our duty, as grave censors, to condemn him to get Aristotle by heart, and promise never to make us laugh again. We shall pass a milder sentence on this dramatic culprit, and advise him to repeat his offence, by presenting us with a similar specimen as soon as possible. The characters are most of them old acquaintances, but they are placed in new situations, and sketched with so much spirit, that they have nearly all the merit, and more than the effect of perfect novelty. Calendar, a genuine disciple of Partridge and Moore, who speaks the language of the almanac, and studies the use of the globes, is the leading comic personage. Fawcett, who performs it inimitably, makes every point tell, and in one scene the effect he produces is quite electrical. Among the other characters are a quaker ; a countryman s and an Irish carpenter, who makes a finger post that turns round like a weathercock. This blunder of Pat's occasions the principal business of the play, which is a chapter of accidents from beginning to end. Any attempt to detail the incidents would be idle, and as useless as vain. The parts will not bear to be detached, though the tout ensemble is excellent; like a salmagundi, of which the ingredients are insipid, till they are well mixed together. The performers acquitted themselves ably. "In the first rank of praise" we must place Fawcett, whose performance decided the success of the piece. Liston, in the quaker, was very ludicrous, and his song is constantly encored.— Mathews also brought his character very forward, and Hatton's thief is a chef d'œuvre. We never saw a little part sustained with more characteristic minuteness. In look, dress, and action, it was complete. De Camp played with great spirit, and Grove, in the old miser, was very respectable. This actor is gaining fast upon the town ; his attention to the business of the scene, and the correctness with which he dresses and plays all his characters, do not pass without notice. They are merits which will ever render him a valuable acquisition to any theatre. Chapman is always judicious and forcible; he appeared to great advantage in this piece. The female characters are not very prominent. Mrs. Powell, however, plays the old woman admirably. The author was favoured both with prologue and epilogue by Mr. Colman.' The first is a spirited composition, but it is not a just argument that a piece is necessarily good because it is attractive. We see every day that what has least merit brings the most money to the theatre. Nor are we bound to respect a play because it has received the fiat of the licencer, who looks, we apprehend, more to its political than its moral tendency, or its literary merit. The epilogue has much point. MR. RAE, the gentleman who made his appearance in Octavian, has since played a number of principal characters with tolerable success. He has a genteel person and an expressive countenance, but his voice is neither pleasant nor extensive: in level dialogue it is feeble, and when exerted. the intonations are rather painful to the ear. Feeling he has, and good sense, but he does not act much from himself. He has caught something from Kemble, and more from Elliston, but, like most borrowers, he has adopted most of their faulty peculiarities, and not their excellencies. It has lately become a vice in tragic acting to express strong feelings of distress by hysterical guggles in the throat. Elliston carried them to excess; he knew their efficacy in obtaining applause, and availed himself of them too liberally. Mr. RAE is a still greater adept in this throat-acting. He is always in convulsions. The trick really becomes disgusting, and should be dropped. In the agonies of expiring nature, or when grief so weighs upon the heart as to deny the tongue its utterance, the adoption of it is allowable and natural, but beyond this "'tis gross-'tis palpable." Mr. Rae, however, has capabilities, and we may one day find him a valuable actor. In comedy his action and manner are constrained; but this is a fault which practice may remove. It must be considered that he has had many characters to study and perform in a short time, and a young man who can bear the weight of so arduous a part as Sir Edward Mortimer, and make a cre ditable stand in characters of a lighter description, (in which Mr. Elliston's talents were so conspicuous) such as Captain Beldare, Frederick, Felix, &c. may fairly be allowed to possess a considerable portion of merit. MRS. C. YOUNG. At Manchester, on the 11th of July, 1806, in the twenty-first year of her age, departed this life, Julia, the wife of Charles Young, one of the managers of the theatre royal Manchester. Her death was occasioned by a bilious fever, a few days after she had safely become a mother. In London, Bath, and Liverpool this lady was better known as Miss Grimani. Her talents for the drama were acknowledged to be of a cast, that, had her life been spared, must have attained superior excellence and the highest professional rank. Those who knew her will not here expect to find a panegyric on her virtues and her talents; they knew how much these were above all praise. With an elegance of form, a bewitching and most expressively animated countenance, she possessed the fascinating manners of an accomplished gentlewoman, and a mind endowed with most uncommon acquirements. These fitted her to captivate all who came within the sphere of her attraction; whilst those qualities of the heart and disposition, which are hidden from the observance of ordinary acquaintance, but which constitute the essence of matrimonial happiness, and alone can form the delight of familiar intercourse; whose presence strengthens every tie of blood, and warms into enthusiastic friendship the favourable impressions made by manners and accomplishments; these made up her whole character-for these the bitter tears of her wretched husband will never cease to flow-for these, as she was most beloved, so she will be most regretted. by a numerous and illustrious acquaintance. KING'S THEATRE. Il Fanatico per la Musica gains on the public by repetition. The mellifluous notes of Billington, and her fine execution on the piano forte, added to the irresistible humour of Naldi, form a treatment which richly gratifies the fullest assemblies of nobility and fashion that we ever remember to have witnessed at this late period of the year. The subscribers are greatly indebted to Kelly and Jewell for the tasteful and well ordered management of this elegant amusement during the whole of the season. ARGYLE ROOMS-MASQUERADE. The luminous Gibbon, as he is often called by those who were never illuminated by him, describing a masquerade at Boodle's, in a letter to a friend, says, what we may repeat with propriety on the present occasion-"It would be as i difficult to describe the elegance of the scene, as it would be to record the humour of the night. The one was above, the other below, all relation." The beauty of the women, the brilliancy of the coup d'euil, and the excellence of the wines and refreshments, were indeed better felt,seen, and tasted than they can possibly be described. As to the humour, it was suited to the genius of the moment and the meridian of Argyle Rooms, but, like most humour, it was of that delicate constitution, that bring it once out of the warm room into the air, it faints, and |