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friend, however, published a reply, good. The latter instrument is too frewith a couplet or two, which seem quently in unison with the pianoforte. It prophetic of his adventure at the is a mistaken idea that this diminishes the Opera House, both as respects the difficulty of performance; a flute player design and the execution for Mr. having the least understanding of the capa. Cutler informs the world that he took bilities of his instrument, is annoyed at its
being so employed. upon him this enterprise for the pur
Mr. Klose's Russian Divertimento is pose of attracting public notice; that rendered insignificant and uninteresting he threw away his time and his mo- from the same cause. ney, and that he shall certainly re- Mr. Burrowes has commenced a second linquish the idea of having any thing series of Caledonian airs, and to these he to do with oratorios in Lent, unless has added a flute accompaniment. Mr. employed by a committee to conduct Burrowes appears to be well acquainted them. He may, it is to be hoped, have with the nature of the flute, although he received as useful a lesson as ever he has occasionally fallen into the common gave, and have been taught to stick
error of making the two instruments pro. to quiet teaching and Quebec chapel. is a good deal of merit in the piece, con
ceed in unison. With this exception there We wish no man ill success, but Mr. Cutler should have respected misfor: sidering the limited execution to which it is
restricted tune, and left the last night of the Mr. Kiallmark has two airs, with variaLent oratorios to its late industrious tions, Ma dové colei che accendi, from but ill-fated proprietor, who, by the La Donna del Lago, and The Bells of St. competition thus established, was Petersburgh. They are in a light and deprived of the assistance which his agreeable style. band would probably have rendered La Brillante, a rondo, by Moralt, ranks at the hour of his utmost need.
a little below the former as an easy lesson.
Mr. Crouch has published the second
number of Select Movements, for the piaFavorite dir in the opera of Semira- noforte and violoncello. It contains Batti mis, with variations for the pianoforte, by Batti, and Fin ch'an del Vino. There is Leidesdorf. The style of this piece is hardly as much original matter as in the bold and spirited, but perhaps might bear first. His Adelina, a divertimento, is the appellation of scrambling, from the equal in merit to the pieces usually com. predominance of arpeggio passages. It posed for beginners or players of limited also wants light and shade ; there is not re- acquirement. pose enough in it.
Mr. Calkin's Introduction and Rondo. L'Ouragan, by J. Ancot, is an imita- letto, on a favourite air, combines both tion, and a very bad imitation, of Steibelt's amusement and very good practice in pas. celebrared Storm Rondo. M. Ancot de.
sages of frequent occurrence. The same signates his composition piece imitative, but composer has commenced a series of pieces, he does not explain whether it imitates na entitled, Les Petits Amusemens. The ture or Steibelt.
first number promises a succession of very Les Souvenirs, a pathetic Fantasia for useful lessons for the earliest stages of inthe harp, by H. C. Bochsa. This is en- struction. tirely a composition of sentiment, and de- Thema, with an Introduction, and va. pends for its effect on the sensibility of the riations, by H. A. Marsh. Mr. Marsh is performer. It contains force and delicacy, a pupil of Bochsa, and the style of the agitation and tenderness, playfulness and piece before us has much of the brilliancy pathos ; yet perhaps too much is left to the and taste of that master. The theme is heart, head, and hand of the player : much very elegant, and it is well preserved, may be made of it, but it will not play itself. although there is no lack of variety or spi
La Jeannette, by Rawlings, is just the rit in the variations. reverse of the former; it is so delicate, so The arrangements are a selection from light and fanciful, that it can hardly be Elisabetta, for the harp and pianoforte, by spoiled. Yet is there nothing in it particu. Bochsa. The airs in Semiramide by Bru. larly new or difficult, and perhaps we guier, and Di Piacer as a duet for the pianoshould be puzzled to say in what its excel-forte, by Haigh. The publication of Molence consists; but we are sure it will please. zart's Symphonies, arranged by Hummel,
Mr. Rawlings's Divertisement Ecossois, proceeds very regularly. with a flute accompaniment, is hardly so
DRURY-LANE THEATRE. pshaw !-that's an empty word!
The house was stuffed-crammed The regular play-goers ought to with people, --crammed from the put on mourning, for the king of swing door of the pit to the back seat broad comedy is dead to the drama! in the banished one shilling. A quart -Alas !- Munden is no more !— of audience may be said (vintner"give sorrow vent!”–He may yet like may it be said) to have been walk the town, pace the pavement in squeezed into a pint of theatre. a seeming existence-eat, drink, and Every hearty play-going Londoner, nod to his friends in all the affecta- who remembered Munden years tion of life—but Munden,—the Mun- agone, mustered up his courage and den !—Munden, with the bunch of his money for this benefit—and midcountenances—the banquet of faces, dle-aged people were therefore by no is gone for ever from the lamps, and,
The comedy chosen as far as comedy is concerned, is as for the occasion, is one that travels dead as Garrick !-When an actor a long way without a guard; it is retires, (we will put the suicide as not until the third or fourth act, we mildly as possible,) how many wor- rather think, that Sir Robert Bramble thy persons perish with him !- with appears on the stage. When he enMunden,-Sir Peter Teazle must ex- tered, his reception was earnest;perience a shock-Sir Robert Bram- noisy, outrageous,-waving of hats ble gives up the ghost-Crack ceases and handkerchiefs,--deafening shouts, to breathe. Without Munden what-clamorous beatings of sticks,-alí becomes of Dozey ?-Where shall the various ways in which the heart we seek Jemmy Jumps ?-Nipper- is accustomed to manifest its joy kin, and a thousand of such admir- were had recourse to on this occasion. able fooleries fall to nothing--and the Mrs. Bainfield worked away with a departure therefore of such an actor sixpenny fan till she scudded only as Munden is a dramatic calamity. under bare poles. Mr. Whittington
On the night that this inestimable wore out the ferule of a new ninehumourist took farewell of the pub- and-sixpenny umbrella. Gratitude lic, he also took his benefit :-a be- did great damage on the joyful occanefit in which the public assuredly sion. did not participate ! - The play was The old performer, the veteran, as Colman's “ Poor Gentleman," with he appropriately called himself in the Tom Dibdin's Farce of “ Past Ten farewell speech, was plainly overo'Clock.”—Reader, we all know come; he pressed his hands together Munden in Sir Robert Bramble, and —he planted one solidly on his breast Old Tobacco-complexioned Dozey;-- -he bowed—he sidled-he cried !we all have seen the old hearty Baro- When the ncise subsided (which it net in his light sky-blue coat and invariably does at last) the comedy genteel cocked hat; and we have all proceeded--and Munden gave an adseen the weather beaten old pen- mirable picture of the rich, eccentric, sioner, Dear Old Dozey,—tacking charitable old batchelor Baronet, about the stage in that intenser blue who goes about with Humphry Dobsea-livery – drunk as heart could bivs at his heels and philanthropy wish, and right valorous in me- in his heart. How crustily and yet mory. On this night Munden seem- how kindly he takes Humphry’s coned, like the Gladiator, " to rally life's tradictions !-How readily he puts whole energies to die;" and as we himself into an attitude for arguing !-were present at this great display of How tenderly he gives a loose to his his powers, and as this will be the last heart on the apprehension of Fredeopportunity that will ever be afford- rick's duel.-In truth, he played Sir ed us to speak of this admirable Robert in his very ripest manner, performer, we shall “ consecrate,” and it was impossible not to feel, as Old John Buncle says, a para- in the very midst of pleasure, regret graph to him.”
that Munden should then be before The house was full; - full!- us for the last time.
COVENT GARDEN THEATRE.
In the farce he became richer and the people and Joe Munden parted richer. Old Dozey is a plant from like lovers! Greenwich. The bronzed face--and Well !-Farewell to thee, rich Old neck to match,—the long curtain of Heart! May thy retirement be as a coat-the straggling white hair,- full of repose, as thy public life was the propensity, the determined at- full of excellence! We must all have tachment, to grog-are all from our farewell benefits in our turn ! Greenwich. Munden, as Dozey, seems never to have been out of Charles the Second, or the Merry action, sun, and drink!-He looks
Monarch. (alas ! he looked) fire proof. His face An extremely neat little opera, if and throat were dried like a raisin- opera it may be called, with only two and his legs walked under the rum songs, has taken the town during the and water with all the indecision last week or two. The dialogue is which that inestimable beverage usu- light, easy, and pleasant; and the ally inspires. It is truly tacking, characters are sketched in with a frec not walking. He steers at a table, and lively hand. Charles Kemble, as and the tide of grog now and then Charles, is the King himself: He bears him off the point. On this makes Charles the Second Charles night he seemed to us to be doomed the First ! Jones, as Lord Rochester, to fall in action, and we therefore might be lustier, he is too well-bred looked at him, as some of the Vic- a man for my Lord Rochester. Fawtory's crew are said to have gazed cett, as Captain Copp, is one great upon Nelson, with a consciousness staff to the piece. So much heartithat his ardour and his uniform were ness shines throughout him. He is worn for the last time. In the scene landlord,--and we wish all Admirals' where Dozey describes a sea fight, Heads had such landlords ! Sweet the actor never was greater, and he Miss Tree (Copp's niece) is delightseemed the personification of an old ful, as she ever is. seventy-four !– His coat hung like
My Own Man. a flag at his poop!-His phiz was A new farce from Mr. Peake's pen, not a whit less highly coloured than under this good title, has made the one of those lustrous visages that town laugh and wonder why it laughgenerally superintend the head of a ed, for divers nights past. Jones ship!- There was something cum- plays a poor, but ready-witted barbrous, indecisive, and awful in his rister, spiritedly; Keely as a hairveerings !-Once afloat, it appeared dresser's son, who has a passion for impossible for him to come to his dancing and for a lady's maid, is very moorings ;-once at anchor, it did amusing. There is great breadth of not seem an easy thing to get him character, pun, and situation; but under weigh!
those who expect to have a farce as The time however came for the narrow as twopenny ribbon, are fools fall of the curtain,—and for the fall for their pleasures. People laugh of Munden !—The farce of the night thoroughly, and what more can was finished. The farce of the long farce-writer desire. forty years' play was over !-He
Mr. Kent. stept forward, not as Dozey, but as A new Richard the Third, a Mr. Munden, and we heard him address Kent, has also tried the stage twice, us from the stage for the last time. but with sad success.
He has overHe trusted, unwisely we think, to rated his powers, and has had a proa written paper. He read of “ heart- portionate rebuke; but, we think, felt recollections,” and “ indelible when he comes to himself, he will fill impressions." He stammered,- and many a lower part with ability. His he prest his heart,--and put on acting was bad imitation in some his spectacles-and blundered his parts, and worse originality in others. written gratitude,-and wiped his It was Kean and water. As Gloster eyes,—and bowed,-and stood--and, he can never hope to keep the crown, at last staggered away for ever! -but he may do better things, and, - The plan of his farewell was bad, we therefore reserve ourselves until -but the long life of excellence we can speak more favourably of him. which really made his farewell pa
Miss Nesbitt. thetic, overcame all defects,-and A young lady of great personal at
THE HAYMARKET THEATRE.
The Drama. traction and considerable talent, ap- He lives near Plymouth, is an ugly peared for one night in Juliet; and, man, and yet longs to be a father and it was certainly her own fault that a husband. He is refused seriatim she did not repeat the character, - by the ladies. At length all the unfor she interested the judicious few married men are ordered to join their greatly in her favour. She has seen ships, and Bobby remains the solitary Miss O'Neill, and yet she is no ser- single man; he becomes cock of the vile copyist. Her voice is clear and walk. He gives himself airs, till a melodious, an excellent thing in Ju- recruiting party put him to his nonliet; and her action is easy and lady- plush! A rich relative however dies, like. We shall see her again, and and his property makes him estimaspeak of her again!
ble. He sets off for London, having
made a compact with one Priscilla This little summer house has open- Fadefast, whose name betokens her ed for its few persecuted months, as quality. Here ends the first act. The Mr. Morris would have us consider second act jumps a year, and we find them, and it is tolerably well attend- Bobby married, and a progenitor. ed. A new one-act piece, called, Through a mistake, arising out of “ Come if you Can,” has been acted his wife's determination to keep her for a brace of nights, and has been marriage a secret; a Mr. Stanley, withdrawn, to prevent its title being Jun. is supposed by Mr. Buckhorse answered in the negative. A farce to be the parent of his much beloved from the ingenious pen of Simpson son. Various errors succeed, but the and Co.'s sire, has also been played, piece ends well. Liston is a cowbut with indifferent success. It is ardly actor in a new farce; and, as called “ A Year in an Hour; or, the all depended on him, the author paid Cock of the Walk.” Billy Buckhorse for his reliance. It has not proved a is Liston, and, of course, the hero! hit. He is gay, with forty pounds a-year.
PRAISE OF THE GOUT.
A CURIOUS little work, and as rare worst sense) I might have passed the as curious, has lately fallen into my whole off as new, so convinced am I hands, * which I presume to think that the rarity of the original would will afford sonie amusement to the have saved me from detection; but reader of such an article as I may, in declining the honors of a borrowed a compendious shape, be permitted plume, I content myself with the to make of it in the LONDON MAGA- humbler, but honester character of
Had I been inclined to follow an entertaining abridger.
“ The Honour of the Gour: or a rational Discourse, demonstrating that the Gout is one of the greatest blessings, which can befal mortal man; that all Gentlemen who are weary of it are their own Enemies; that those practitioners who offer at the cure are the vainest and most mischievous cheats in nature.
“ By way of a letter to an eminent Citizen, wrote in the heat of a violent paroxysm, and now published for the common good. By Philander Misiatrus. 1699.”
It was lent to me by an eminent physician, whose intention it is to present it to his Majesty, who has expressed a wish to see it.
This piece appears, from many the epistle is addressed, was propassages that occur, to have been bably an alderman, or perhaps the written about the commencement of Lord Mayor himself. the reign of King William; and It begins thus: the gouty “eminent citizen," to whom
“ Why! sir, I am informed that your Worship, not having a right sense of things, nor the fear of God before your eyes, should, to the disgrace of your own virtue, give your tongue the liberty, in an open coffee-house, to speak ill of the gout. Of the gout, sir, which, if you look on as a disease, you ought to welcome as the most useful and necessary thing that could have happened to you. Yet, you could say that when the Almighty had, out of rude chaos, built this goodly frame of nature, which we see, and formed his noble creature man, he indulged the devil to create some one thing, and his damned envy gave being to the gout. Now, I am confident, sir, and have great authorities for it, that if the devil ever created any thing, it was the doctor ; of whom, since you have made so much use, I know not but it may be rationally inferred, that you have dealt with the devil. The gout, sir, whether you know it or no, was postnate to the creation, and younger something than the fall of man, who having incurred the sentence of death, the friendly gout was sent in mercy down from Heaven to lengthen wasting life. By my consent, you should never have the gout, who have no more consideration in you than to blaspheme it.”
To prove its divine origin, he pro- steps, till he has raised it above all poses to proceed from its lowest com- the stars, and entered it among the mendations, and to ascend by six just celestial spirits.
“ First, The gout gives a man pain without danger.
“ Since we must have pain while we live, give me the pain of the gout, which has no danger attending. Here some malevolent adversary may importunely object; Did never any man die of the gout? To this I answer, 1st, I have not yet affirmed, that the gout can make a man immortal, tho' I will boldly say thus much, it very often keeps a man alive till all his friends are weary of him. But, 2dly, Should I venture to say that the gout has in itself the power to make a man immortal, it ought not to seem so very strange, all things being considered. If that be true, which some authors write of the noble Paracelsus, he had the secret to make a man immortal, and I would not say he lyed, tho' himself died about forty : for perhaps he did not like his company; but it must have been by way of his discovery to give any man the gout when he pleased—in that l'am positive. Here the objector will scornfully put me in mind, that gouty, persons 'scape death no more than other men; which is very true, but that's because men are fools, and don't know when they are safe—they must be curing the gout forsooth, and to that end they deal with the doctor, i.e. with the factor of death, the emissary of hell, the purveyor of the grave, damned alchymist, good at calcining nothing but living bodies into dust and ashes. All that can be rationally said against the gout is, that it does not actually preserve man in spight of his own folly, and the doctor's ignorance.
“ Your Worship is indeed a fit object for the envy of all thinking men; for I have heard you confess, that your's is an hereditary gout, and that's for the better; an hereditary gout is a far greater happiness than an acquired one—what a deal of intemperance, and amorous excess might it have cost your Worship to have got the gout before forty ?
Whereas now you have the mighty blessing for nothing. Sorte nascendi, it is your birth-right, sir, never think of parting with it. Perhaps you may be now tempted to ask me, how I acquired my gout? I shall not be shy to satisfy your curiosity, for I came by it honestly. We scholars have a way by ourselves to come at the blessing, without ever being beholden to the God that cheers the genteel candidate of the gout by day, or the Goddess that entertains him on nights: we lead sedentary lives, feed heartily, drink quantum sufficit, but sleep immoderately; so that the superfluities of our sober and