Again: 66 'What title has this Queen but lawless force? and force Twenty more things were said in the play, which faction applied to the Queen; and though it never could be originally intended, it furnished the town with talk, till something else happened," &c. TO THE EDITOR OF THE DRAMATIC MAGAZINE. SIR,-AN old cousin of mine, a great naturalist, and moreover an enthusiastic admirer of the drama and its adherents, has lately died, and directed in his will that the following articles in his museum should be given to certain members of the Thespian corps, whose names are hereunder specified. I trust you will give the list a place in your magazine, that the different persons mentioned may call, and claim their bequests. Two sheep dogs (rare barkers). Messrs. Cooper and Warde. A magpie A pigeon. Several Boars* A tomtit A redpole A bear A gander Mr. Horrebow, Mr. Raymond, and Mr. Diddear. A screech owl A bat. Mrs. H. Corri. Mr. Thompson. Mathews and Yates. Madame Vestris. SIR GILES OVERREACH. THIS detestable character, it appears from the following, was not the creation of Massinger : "Sir Giles Mompesson had fortune enough in the country to make him happy, if that sphere could have contained him; but the vulgar and universal error of satiety with present enjoyments, made • Sometimes spelt- Bores. him too big for a rustical condition, and when he came to court he was too little for that, so that some novelty must be taken up to set him in equilibrio to the place he was in; no matter what it was, let it be never so pestilent and mischievous to others, he cared not, so he found benefit by it. To him Michel is made compartner; a poor sneaking justice, that lived among the brothels near Clarton-wel, whose clerk and he picked a livelihood out of those corners, giving warrants for what they did, besides anniversary stipends (the frequent revenue of some justices of those times) for conniving. This thing was a poisonous plant in its own nature, and the fitter to be an ingredient to such a composition, whereby he took liberty to be more ravenous upon poor people, to the grating of the bones, and sucking out the very marrow of their substance."Wilson's Life of James I. fol. 1652. WALPOLE, ON TRAGEDY. THE excellence of our dramatic writers is by no means equal to that of the great men we have produced in other walks :—— "Theatric genius lay dormant after Shakspeare; waked with some bold and glorious, but irregular, and often ridiculous, flights in Dryden; revived in Otway; maintained a kind of placid pleasing in Rowe, and even shone in his Jane Shore. In Southern, it appeared a genuine ray of nature and of Shakspeare, but, falling on an age still more hottentot, was stifled in those gross and barbarous productions, tragi-comedies. It turned to tuneful nonsense in The Mourning Bride; grew stark mad in Lee; whose cloak, a little the worse for wear, fell on Young; yet in both was still a poet's cloak. covered its senses in Hughes and Fenton; who were afraid it should relapse, and accordingly kept it down with a timid but amiable hand : and then it languished." It re ROMEO AND JULIET.-A DISTRESSING SITUATION. IN Romeo and Juliet, as written by Shakspeare, the heroine, when she wakes, made use of a dagger which belonged to Romeo. In Garrick's alteration, Juliet leaves the dagger on the table, to prevent being forced to marry Paris, should the draught not take effect; consequently she has no other resource than the dagger în Romeo's girdle. This practice continued (and without accident) for several seasons after Garrick's first revival of the piece: but in Cibber's last season at Covent Garden, when playing Juliet with Barry, she fumbled and fumbled,-no dagger was to be found; at last, evidently much distressed, she held up her delicate fist (which was really so) and ideally plunged the weapon to her heart. The audience did not laugh, but applauded, from respect to her talents; but the instant the curtain dropped, laughter prevailed throughout the theatre; and from that night Juliet has ever trusted to her own care that necessary plaything the dagger. LETTERS OF ADVICE. We have received several contradictory. letters respecting the management of our Magazine, some of which we proceed to lay before our readers : "TO THE EDITOR OF THE DRAMATIC MAGAZINE. "As your well-wisher, I am grieved to find that you have introduced a poem, entitled the Dramatic Gallery,' as it occupies a space which would be much better filled with extracts from the new plays, or an account of the intrigues and sayings of the principal actresses of the day; such as, Miss Fanny Kemble asked her mamma how she liked her Canova; that fascinating favourite, Vestris, has discarded handsome Jack, and turned to her old flame, the ; or, Miss C- e has left the protection of Lord F- -e. Any little anecdote of this description you will find greatly to increase the sale of the Magazine, and will much oblige your obedient servant, "W. B.', The Editor begs to assure W. B. that the "Dramatic Gallery" will be discontinued for the future, and he will be indefatigable in his exertions to procure the earliest green-room intelligence, and will not only have spies placed in the theatre, and in certain streets of the metropolis, but that he will arrange with several of the newspaper paragraph-writers for that purpose. "TO THE EDITOR OF THE DRAMATIC MAGAZINE. "I am delighted with your Magazine, and especially with your poem of the Dramatic Gallery,' which I boldly affirm to be one of the most just and well-written pieces of dramatic satire which have appeared for some time, and am, therefore, surprised that you omitted it in your last number, for extracts from two plays, which the waves of oblivion have already rolled over. I commend your good sense in not paying any attention to the nauseous stuff which appears in the papers about our actresses. "Your admirer, "C. L." C. L. is informed that the poem of the "Dramatic Gallery" will be continued in every number. 66 TO THE EDITOR OF THE DRAMATIC MAGAZINE. "I am one of a party of four who take in your Magazine, and am commissioned by them to write to you, and state, that we have been much amused with reading the stories of the new plays, but that you ought to say a great deal more about them; therefore, you should visit all the theatres in London, especially the West London and Sadler's Wells, instead of giving a parcel of strange anecdotes of Garrick, Macklin, &c., who, I am sure, nobody cares about. "ELIZABETH I--R.” The Editor presents his compliments to Miss Elizabeth I. and her three friends, and begs most respectfully to say, that all the miscellaneous articles for the future shall be omitted, and the theatrical journal considerably enlarged. TO THE EDITOR OF THE DRAMATIC MAGAZINE. "As a subscriber to your work from the commencement, I think myself entitled to give you a few words of advice. That your miscellanies contain a greater fund of theatrical information than I have ever met with, is a fact I readily admit; indeed, it is proved by most of the articles having been copied into almost every paper in the kingdom. My object in writing this letter, is to complain of the extensive length of your journal;-why will you persist in giving a minute detail of the plot of every new drama, the accounts of which are as tedious to read as they are to witness? Trusting that you will see the necessity of attending to my wishes, I am yours, &c. "W.W.T." The Editor begs to inform W. W.T. that the journal shall be considerably curtailed, and the miscellaneous articles increased. "TO THE EDITOR OF THE DRAMATIC MAGAZINE. "You are a very naughty man, and I can't abide you, for you have broken the promise made to your subscribers in the prospectus, for there you promised that all the new songs should be given: now I have in vain searched among your pages for Susan had Lovers ;' 'Look from the Topmast's Tower;' I cannot be a Nun, Sir ;'and how could you omit all the enchanting productions of the sublime author of Fly away pretty Moth,' and I'd be a Butterfly?' MARY The Editor fears he must plead guilty to Miss Mary's accusation; but he begs most respectfully to state, that all the new songs in future shall be inserted. "TO THE EDITOR OF THE DRAMATIC MAGAZINE. "I am suprised that a work, which displays so much critical accuracy and knowledge as yours, should sully your pages with all the trash of the song-writers of the day; if the authors have the temerity to publish the songs in their stolen productions, why should you be so cruel as to inflict them upon your readers? I pri'thee avoid it for the future. "Your friend and admirer, J. B." The Editor will be careful to cultivate the good opinion of J. B. ; and therefore declares, that not any of the new songs shall be inserted for the future. We have selected a few of the letters of our numerous correspondents, and find that in our anxious endeavours not to displease any body, like the man and the ass, we have pleased nobody. We therefore think we may boldly venture to declare, that the Magazine will be continued in future on the same plan as heretofore, saving a trifling alteration in the size of the type, in order to obtain more room. An address of thanks to those, who have so greatly forwarded the success of this Magazine by their friendly contributions, as well as to the subscribers in general, will appear in the ensuing number, with the Title-page and Index. DOWTON. AT the commencement of every winter season, we constantly hear the question asked, "Why is Dowton not engaged? I am sure he ought to be;" and every time that we see his characters assigned to other hands, the same question is repeated, with strong marks of surprise and regret. To the "why?" we cannot give an answer; the ought" does not require one; for Dowton is, without any exception, the most chaste and natural comedian of the present day. his merits seem to be strangely overlooked by the managers, we cannot occupy a few pages with a more interesting or appropriate subject. 66 As The great charm of Dowton's acting consists in his observance of Shakspeare's precept; he never" o'ersteps the modesty of nature. He does not seek to provoke laughter by grimace, or any grotesque contortions of body; his humour is like the humour of Molière or Congreve; it flows from the character, and is not incongruously superinduced upon it. In reading the dramas of those writers, we are delighted with their wit, because it is mostly bestowed upon such persons only as may be supposed to employ it; they devised the character, and then gave it language and sentiment which were suitable, instead of ostentatiously pouring forth their stores, without any regard to nature, or the semblance of reality. Of a similar description is the humour of Dowton. We find in actors, as in dramatic writers, men who make you laugh, not because they observe, but because they violate nature. A performance may be eminently ludicrous, from the number of incongruities blended in it; but it may be as eminently a deviation from nature, and then it is not acting, but buffoonery. If Liston were to play Hamlet, if Mathews Macbeth, or Harley, Romeo, few probably could witness the performance without immoderate laughter; but who would venture to say that those characters were correctly delineated? To create a laugh, therefore, is not the infallible criterion of comic genius, in the proper acceptation of the term; even in characters that are essentially comic, the laughter excited by their representation is often produced by the actor, who mistakes his part, and substitutes his own power of ridiculous personation for that which ought to be elicited by the scope and meaning of the author. This radical misconception, or wilful exaggeration, of a character, is often regarded as the evidence of great comic talent; but, however amusing it may be, and however irresistible in its appeal to our risible faculties, it is only a proof that the actor is capable of becoming a merry buffoon, and utterly incapable of transfusing himself into his part. It is the same in tragedy as in comedy. Attitudes, starts, and cadences may be very fine, abstractedly considered; but if they are introduced where they ought not-if they be blended with characters and situations, where they are obviously unnatural, they must be regarded as blemishes, and condemned upon every principle of sound taste. No actor that ever trod the stage within our remembrance, with the exception of Bannister, excelled Dowton, in his studious abstinence from all such faults; hence the reason why Dowton appears |