400 Theatrical Information......George Barnwell; The Sailor's Daughter. ham. The lovers of harmony had a rich and a varied repast. Of the uncommon vocal powers of Braham we are warm admirers; his execution is mafterly. On the prefent occafion it may fairly be prefumed he did his utmoft; indeed, we never remember to have heard him in better voice. The audience fully felt the arduous task he had impofed upon himself, in the numerous fongs which he fang between the acts, &c. His execution of the "Thorn" we do not think equal to Incledon's: the other airs from the Cabinet, from the opera of Mahmoud, &c., are too well known to need particular notice. In the afterpiece of "No Song No Supper," he appeared for the first time in Frederic. It is to be regretted that his acting is fo greatly inferior; it is hardly compenfated by his other qualities. His performance of Frederic was exceffively dull, languid, and uninteresting. DRURY LANE. Monday, April 2d. The domeftic tragedy of " George Barnwell" was this night prefented. H. Johnfton and Mrs. Powell performed the characters of Barnwell and Millwood. We think the former inferior to his predeceffor, C. Kemble; and it is furely no injury to the real talents of Mrs. Powell, to fay, that the was greatly inferior to Mrs. Siddons. She failed in expreffing thofe varying emotions of cunning, reproach, and hardened firmness. In that scene where The haughtily vindicates her conduct, and pronounces her violent philippic against the male fex, Mrs. Powell thoroughly mifconceived the part. We cannot but fincerely approve of the custom of representing this tragedy at fuch times as Christmas and Eafter: we think that it has a powerful effect upon the minds of thofe who utually attend the theatre on thofe nights indeed, we have known Julia Clairville Mrs. Hartshorne Mr. Bannifter, jun. Mr. Bartley The name of this comedy is naturally enough derived from its principal action. Julia Clairville is the daughter of a naval officer, who had loft his life in the fervice of his country. At the commencement of the play, he is a lodger in the house of Mr. Hartfhorne, an apothecary at Bath, who had been furgeon of the late Captain Clairville's thip. Julia is protected by Hartshorne; but the funds on which the fubfifts are fupplied by an unknown hand, the being left a deftitute orphan by her father's death. Hartfhorne believes they are remitted to him by Captain Centamor, a particular friend of her father, to whofe care he had bequeathed her in his last moments. Varnish, a diffipated young man of fortune, at Bath, makes dithionourable love to Julia; and infinuates that the fums fecretly remitted for her ufe have been the fruits of his generouty. Captain Centamor comes to Bath, being the first time he has been in England fince the death of Julia's father. Willing to obferve Julia, without referve, and to owe her hand to an unbiaffed love (for her father's laft with had been that they might be united), he affumes the name of Lindfey, who had been his furgeon, and is engaged to fettle with Hartihorne, as his partner. From this fituation of things grows the main business of the play. Varnish continues to play his game, in which he is counteracted by Hartshorne (a true honeft tar) and Captain Centamor, till he is at length driven from the purfuit by the latter. Julia, who had conducted herfeif with great dignity towards Varnish, although the did not know the extent of his defigns, becomes fecretly attached to Centamor, under his feigned name of Lindfey; to whom the is, in the end, united. There is an underplot, which confifts chiefly of the courtship of John Mandeville and his coufin Louifa, half bathful on his part, and half coquetish on hers. This play is the production of Mr. Cumberland, whom Goldfmith dignified with the appellation of "The Terence of England, the mender of hearts." We muft confefs our expectations were unufually raised, and we hoped to witnefs at laft the representation of a legitimate comedy; a comedy free from that mawkith fentiment and mere tricious ornament which has lately been obtruded upon the public, instead of genuine wit, humour, and fenfe. It is then painful for us to fay that we were greatly difappointed; for Mr. Cumberland, inftead of confulting his own undoubted genius (which might reclaim the ftage from its fhackles, would he but enter into a partnership with Meffrs. Sheridan and Murphy), has condescended to catch the prevailing spirit. The language is devoid of that attic wit, and that claffic purity and fpringinefs, which we have fo much admired in the former productions of this author; and neither the repartees, the fentiments, or the dialogue, are in any manner fuperior to moft of the productions of the day. We could even cenfure the title of the piece, for after the Soldier's Daughter, it palpably ftrikes the mind as being indicatory of fervile imitation. The plot of the piece is fufficiently intricate, and creates a degree of intereft throughout the play; but the characters are not strongly contrasted. That of Hartshorne is the only one that appears any thing like an original, or that betrays any thing like the finished touches of the author. It is but justice to say that it was juftly conceived, and moft admirably pourtrayed by Bannister. Louifa and Julia offer fomething like contrariety, though the volatile fpirit of the former is not uniformly preferved: in any other hands than thofe of Mrs. Jordan, it would have appeared lifelefs and inert, fo little is there of inherent vivacity in the character itself. Mr. Ruffell is by no means fit for the part of Varnijhs fcenes of Richard or Macbeth. The as well might he ftrut through the entire reconciliation between him and Captain Centamor, after his bafe attempts towards Julia Clairville, is perfectly unnatural. Vice fhould never be greeted with the fmile and hand of virtue. Towards the conclufion of the play, a little oppofition was excited there is no need of the furgeon's ajift- by the audience as having an inThis was immediately confidered decent application to the unfortunate death of Lord Camelford; but Bannifter allayed the ftorm, as foon as he could be heard, by faying, "Thank Heaven, brother Lindfey, peace is at last restored." It was given out for a fecond reprefentation with fome degree of it will ever be (according to theaopposition. We do not think that trical phrafeology) a flock-piece. Monday, April 16. "The Hypocrite," (not played thefe ten years) and a new Farce, entitled "The Middle Difh, or the Irishman in Turkey," for the benefit of Mrs. Jordan. This play, altered from the Nonjuror of Cibber (whofe original was the Tartuffe of Moliere) by Bickerstaffe, is not much calculated to please an audience of the prefent day. It was originally written to ferve a party, and it is the fate of all party productions to die with the object that gave them birth. Were it not for the fpirited acting of Mrs. Jordan in the coquetifh Charlotte, it would be abfolutely intolerable. Dowton, in Dr. Cantwell, evinced great abilities, and excited general deteftation, the highest praife he could look for.-After the play, Mrs. Jordan delivered a neat addrefs from the pen of Mr. Cherry, in which, of course, were fome patriotic allufions to the threatened invafion. Of the "Middle Difh," charity forbids us to fay much. We never remember to have witneffed fuch a wretched, fpiritlefs production. The loweft jefts of Joe Miller were retailed verbatim, and Irifh blunders were put into the mouths of Mrs. Jordan and Johnstone, more vile than ever an Irish porter yet committed. The language is without wit, the piece without plot, and the events without a caufe. Not even the humour of Bannister, of Johnflone, and of Mrs. Jordan, could fave it from the hiffes of the audience. We think he would have done better in bringing forward fome sterling after-piece, rather than hazard the difpleafure of the public by acting fuch a Grub-street performance. The author of it is, we believe, unknown; if it be fo, he will be wife in keeping his own counfel. The houfe overflowed at an early hour, and we have feldom witneffed fuch an affemblage of nobility and fathion as ornamented the boxes. Monday, April 23d. This evening were prefented Sheridan's ad mired comedy of the "School for Scandal," with the "Review, or the Wags of Windfor," for the benefit of Mr. Bannifter, junior. The principal novelty of the evening was Bannister's Charles Surface, and Wroughton's Sir Peter Teazle. Of the former, we are difpofed to speak in terms of commendation, though we think, from the vaft comic abilities of this actor, that he might have chofen a character better calculated to display his peculiar vein of humour. Charles Surface is perhaps the least important perfonage in the piece; he ftands in contradiftinction to his brother, but rather as a foil to fhew his villany, than as a real and active competitor for the palm of approbation. He is a gay and giddy libertine; but libertines and rakes are too common both on and off the ftage to afford room for much confpicuoufnefs. Wroughton in Sir Peter did all he could, we are well aware; but juftice compels us to fay that he did it very badly.The other characters were caft as ufual, and therefore need no particular praise or cenfure. was. Mrs. Jordan fpoke the fame addrefs as on her benefit night, altered for the occafion, and containing at the end a neat allufion to the abilities of the actor whofe benefit it Bannister in his mendicant character, in which he fung an appropriate ballad between the play and entertainment, made a powerful appeal to the rifible mufcles of the audience. In the afterpiece, we were much difappointed. Bannister is certainly greatly inferior to Fawcett in Caleb Quotem. He wanted all that quaintnefs, and characteristic look, which fo peculiarly qualifies the latter for fuch parts as Doctor Panglofs, Motto, Caleb Quotem, &c. It was his firft appearance in that character, and we fincerely hope it will be his laft. Collins in John Lump can in no refpect be compared to And there, in bow'ry darknefs curtain'd round, To mufe thy fcenes, O veil'd FUTURITY! In those lone hours, when awe-inspiring night, Cov'ring a proftrate world, and fhading deep The many-colour'd hues that only live In the gay fun-beam, fheds her folemn calm, (While lip-clos'd echo sleeps) what airy forms To the Editor of the Univerfal Mag. SIR, TO refcue from oblivion the offspring of genius is fometimes a more pleafing and certainly a more profitable talk than to ufher into notice the tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee stuff that but too often decorates the columns of magazines. I even think that more fierling gratifica tion would be received by readers in general, if felections were occafionally made from jearce and valuable publications, which not being very general, are of courfe additionally interesting. Impre ed with this idea, I have ventured to fend you the following, and cannot conclude without particularly recommending to your attention the beautiful thought and turn of expreffion displayed in the fourth flanza. You will also probably think with me, that Prior was not a little indebted to it for the idea of his "Henry and Emma." Newark, I remain April 17th, 1804. yours, &c.. DION. A DIALOGUE BETWEEN ARAPHILL AND CASTARA. Araphill. CASTARA, you too fondly court Unquiet time may for his fport warre. Caftara. Then, in the language of the drum, O' th' fudden rends her hopefull faile, Weak friendship profpers by the powre Of Fortune's funne: I'le in her win ter grow. Araphill. If on my fkin the noy fome far I fhould o'th' leprofie or canker Or if the fulphurous breath of warre In flefh may fickneffe horror move, But heavenly zeale will be by it refin'd: For then wee'd like two angels love Without a fenfe, and clip each other's mind. Araphill. Were it not impious to repine, 'Gainft rigid Fate I should direct my breath: That two muft be, whom heaven did joyne In fuch a happy one, disjoyn'd by death. THE DEATH OF HIPPOLYTUS. Tranflated from Racine. The Narratice is addrefjed to his Father, who had banished him on Account of the falje Accufations of Phedra. WE faw his chariot, as we pass'd the gate: Graceful in woe, the banish'd hero fat; As filent, and as fad, his guards around Caft their full weeping eyes upon the ground. Loofe to the wind his reins neglected float; His fleeds forget to neigh their ardent note; No more with flashing eye they beat the plain, With high curv'd neck, and wildly wav ing mane, But each, with fullen fympathy oppreft, Drags his flow feet, and droops his tow'ring creit. As we beheld this fcene of deep despair, A fudden roar burts on the filent air; From the green wave it came, a hideous cry; The earth, in dreadful echo, roar'd reply. A chilly horror feiz'd our creeping blood, With mane erect the lift'ning courfers ftood; When, lo! a liquid mountain, vast and wide, Rofe with tremendous bubbling on the tide. Onward it roll'd, and rolling vaster grew, Till to the beach its foaming bulk it drew; There fudden buift, and with redoubled |