the theatre continued open until the 14th, yet nothing occurred in that interval worth the trouble of relation. As to his views for the next winter, we are given to understand, and from good authority, that he intends to remodel the interior of the house altogether, as if his past failure were to be attributed to the brick walls, and his future success were to be ensured by their alteration. If such indeed be his idea he will find himself most lamentably mistaken; such a novelty may, and no doubt will, attract the people for a few nights, but it will not command for him a permanent prosperity, nor will it even pay its own expenses. He must look to other and more solid measures if he wishes for solid success to good actors-to good plays -to good management in short, to every thing that is exactly the reverse of what he has done. Independent of all this, we much question the utility of the proposed alterations; to contract the proscenium is well enough, but why change the form of the house? Why not lessen the interior altogether? The house will be too large for its company under any circumstances. Then too a new Scene-room is to be built on the scite of the second Green-room; but if such a building be necessary, this is not the place for its erection; if indeed there were a similar room on the other side of the house, it would be all very well; but as this is not the case, it would be better that the scenes should lie at the back of the stage, where they are at hand for either wing, according as they are wanted. But in truth this is nothing more than a rage to be doing-no matter whether good or mischief; it is something for the manager to talk about, and look wondrous wise and busy-and hold meetings, and write letters, and be most terribly industrious, while his prime minister, Winston, will bustle about the theatre in all the importance of a hen about to lay. This scheme will never answer, notwithstanding the acknowledged talents of Mr. Beazley, who is employed to make the alterations, liable, of course, to the superintendence of Mr. Soane in his capacity of honorary architect to the establishment. The plans have already been submitted to that gentleman, and, having met with his approbation, will now be shown to the King, with whom rests the final decision on the subject. But we repeat it-this plan will never answer. HAYMARKET THEATRE. The Bill of Fare.-Beggar's Opera. This theatre has opened at last, and with all manner of novelties,new actors, new singers, new pieces, and a new ceiling, the soundingboard having been removed from over the proscenium; but, of all these novelties, the last is the only one worth mentioning, or, at least, it is the only one that deserves any singular praise; by this slight alteration, the interior assumes the appearance of an elegant, and even splendid, drawing-room, where all is light, gay, and sparkling. Little as the gain of this may seem to some, it is yet of vital importance, for man is in a great measure the slave of outward circumstance; and if the mind is sublimed into devotion by the still grandeur of twilight aisles, and shafted oriels, why may it not be warmed to mirth by the cheerful play of lights, and the gaiety of splendour? To deny this, is to deny the facts of our every-day experience; the lights, the music, the local brilliance, all are portions of our pleasure, inasmuch as they coutribute to its reception; for it is these outward circumstances that tune the human instrument either to mirth or melancholy, to harmony or discord. The company, though tolerably fair in its numbers, is very far from being so in its quality. Five or six good names, indeed, are to be found amongst a troop of miserables; but of what use are five or six good names, if they stand alone? There they twinkle, sadly and mistily, in the surrounding dreariness, like a few faint stars in a dull night, their lustre half eclipsed by the darkness that they in vain strive to brighten. This it is that is the bane of the English stage in general; individual parts are well played-perhaps better than with the French; but the effect of the whole is sure to be spoilt by the piteous ignorance and incapacity that is employed on the minor characters. Your Coveneys, and your Ebsworths, and your Williamses, and your Pearces, never ought to venture upon the stage except to sweep it. To begin, however, with the beginning; Mr. Dibdin's new farcical sketch, called,.. The Bill of Fare, was the opening attraction, and therefore ought to be the first considered; if, indeed, the term consideration can aptly be applied to such matters; for, to speak the truth, it is a large phrase for so slight a business. The plot is simple enough, and may be told in very few words. Samuel Stingo, a provincial innkeeper, and Solomon Strutt, a provincial manager, both take up their abode at the inn of a Mr. Hoaxley, the one for the purpose of hiring servants, and the other for the purpose of hiring actors. With this view, they advertise in the papers under their initials only, S. S.; from which happy coincidence, their landlord takes occasion to play off a hoax on both parties, sending the actors to Mr. Stingo, and the servants to Mr. Strutt. This admirable joke is rendered more pungent by the manager having requested his candidates to appear in costume, as it keeps the parties in error, and the audience in a decent state of laughter, for the space of an hour, on the most moderate calculation. Still this is no more than a second edition of the popular farce, Amateurs and Actors, as performed at the English Opera, and not a very good edition either, for it is to the full as absurd, without the one half of its amusement. Nor was it much assisted by the actors, if we except Mrs. Chatterley and Mr. Terry, who worked with a zeal and ability deserving of a better cause; :with them "materiem superabat opus," and well for the author that it was so; he had been damned else. As to Mrs. H. Johnston, we cannot well conceive why she is brought forward as the star of the Haymarket, for whatever light she might once have, it has been long ago extinguished; the manager had much better look for support in the rising genius of Mrs. Chatterley, who is slowly, but surely, gaining on the affections of the public, and who, if properly fostered, will one day hold a distinguished situation. But while this lady is thus rapidly marching onward to her zenith, Oxberry is hastening no less rapidly in his downward course, and will soon be at his sunset, unless he pays a little more attention to himself as well as to his audience; his natural talents are of a high order, but they are obscured and overwhelmed by a multitude of faults, and he is now little more than a memory of better days. He has not only fallen into a slovenly habit of acting, but he has ceased to pay any attention to character beyond the mere outward circumstance of costume; one unchanging set of manners, like the wardrobe of a country actor, serves for all parts and all purposes, or at best is occasionally relieved by a vile habit of mimicking the character he addresses. All this is the natural result of his having played so much at minor theatres, among a set of miserables who had not the slightest pretensions to the name of actors. The consciousness of superiority engenders carelessness; besides that any thing short of genius is sure to be warped by the bias of surrounding circumstances. Talent is always a local quality, that borrows its vices and its virtues, its defects and its merits, from the good or evil that is about it: genius, and genius only, is superior to outward circumstance; and, like the sun-light, can give its own colour to whatever it may chance to shine upon. There is hope then for Oxberry, if he chooses to attend to himself; his talent is rust-eaten, but still it is talent, and it only wants the polish of better company to make it as bright as ever. This is a small portion of The Bill of Fare; but the other dishes are hardly worth serving up, unless to a very hungry appetite, and we had therefore as well pass on to the lady who made her first appearance in the part of Polly in the Beggar's Opera. She strongly reminded us of Virgil's cautious admonition, “ nimium ne crede colori ;" for though her features promised wonders, her voice was far from performing any such prodigies. It is not, perhaps, deficient in compass, but she evidently wants science, and that power over the organ which is only to be got by practice. Her transitions are much too violent and abrupt, her voice bounding up and down as if she were playing at ducks and drakes, or trying conclusions with an echo. Her flourishes were neither well-timed nor well executed; and, what is still worse, we are strongly inclined to suspect that she has not a correct ear, or, if she has, there must be a strange de ficiency of practice to do justice to her intentions. But some allowances ought to be made- perhaps more than we have made to the timidity of a first appearance, when female modesty may in reason be supposed to clog the powers of execution. Fear, and the awkwardness incident to a novice, might have caused much of those deficiencies which we have noticed, but then such experiments ought not to be tried on a London public. The country is the proper place for novices; it is the regular school for actors; and, even when they have learnt all that it can teach them, they yet ought not to assume REPORT OF MUSIC. A con IT would seem a singular assertion to one unacquainted with the facts, to say, that although every night at this season of the year presents a fresh concert, there is little of musical variety to afford a subject for narration or remark. Nevertheless the assertion is perfectly true. Art advances, but the additions to its parts are few and slow and minute-so slow, that the finest tenor singers in London for the last thirty years (Messrs. Harrison and Vaughan) have not probably sung more than a dozen favourite songs. certo from Mr. Mori, Mr. John Cramer, or Mr. Lindley, is much the same as heretofore; and singers and players rise to real eminence in such tardy succession, that the novelties are very soon exhausted in narration. Were it not for the Italian Opera and the Philharmonic, which are importers, we should be nearly stagnant; and yet we complain of the predominance of foreign music and musicians, ---and justly too. England may well be held in low estimation, when the English language is almost banished from our concerts, and even from our oratorios, and when the greater proportion of our leading instrumental and vocal performers are Italian, Even in the German, or French. city, the foreign compositions performed have been to the English as seventy to three. Alas, poor England! Yet never were concerts so numerous as this year. Subsequently to our last report (up to the 20th of May,) there were given in that month, morning and evening, besides the Opera, the theatres which were performing operas, the Ancient, Philharmonic, and Opera concerts,-besides these, we say, there were in these few open days at the close of the month no less than ten concerts, viz. those of Begrez, Catalani, Knyvett, Bochsa, (an oratorio) Madame Caravita, Madame Obert, Rovedino, Bellamy, and Puzzi. None of these, however, presented Madame any important novelty. Catalani carried off the money (a cause of hearty complaint amongst all her competitors); for her first four concerts averaged one thousand persons each night; and we have reason to know, that very few indeed obtained the gratuitous admittance so common at benefits, when, speaking moderately, one half are not unfrequently the friends, as they consider themselves, of the performer whose night it happens to be: to such a scope does this kind of friendship extend that, as we are assured, a celebrated Italian singer lately had a private concert at the house of a Marchioness, where no less than five hundred of the noble hostess's intimates lent the Signor their countenance for the night upon these terms; while another was constrained to give away no less than seven hundred tickets of admission to the Opera house at her benefit, in order to compensate the services of the company, and to satisfy the eager desires of her acquaintances to be present; this would seem a simple way of accounting for the otherwise unaccountable "flux of company," in these bankrupt times of tribulation and complaint. However, it is not less true, that three concerts, the Ancient, Philharmonic, and City amateur subscription, have not raised less than ten thousand guineas, and the Opera, seventy thousand. Music, therefore, neither lacks patronage nor pecuniary support. Subsequently to the concerts above mentioned, Madame Catalani has given her sixth and last concert, as she retires, it is said, from public life. When this "Foreign Wonder" returned last season to England, we gave so extended an account of her powers and manner, that little or nothing remains for us to add. If her style had undergone any change, it was, that she regulated more considerately the display of her various attainments. The chief fault of most singers of the first class is that they merge their judgment in their anxiety to exhibit every species of perfection at once. This fault Madame Catalani has evidently guarded against; and she was as pure, simple, and majestic, in Comfort ye my people, as she was ornamental, rapid, and forceful, in Rode's air with variations. Her voice is perhaps a little sunk; for we observed that her preference inclined her to very low songs, and that she obviously avoided very high notes even in the most rapid parts of her execution. She retires, however, in the fullest enjoyment of her most wonderful powers. It would be difficult, nay impossible to ascertain which was the most efficient agent in her triumphs-her voice, or her beautiful and majestic features-so entirely did " each give to each a double charm," in the expression of passion. Take her for all in all, the world has never heard or seen such a singer, and no other age will probably produce two such prodigies as Siddons and Catalani; for the one can only be estimated in dramatic art by a comparison with the other in vocal science. The prodigious sums Catalani has earned have not greatly enriched her, it is saidbut as there is no inducement but a love of ease to allure her at this moment from the profitable exertion of her talents, we are to conclude that she is sufficiently wealthy to satisfy the desires of both herself and family. The public loss will be far less easily supplied than her own contentment. At Miss Goodall's Concert (who by the way is of late greatly improved in her general style) Mr. H. Field, of Bath, performed a concerto on the pianoforte. This professor came up and assisted at one of the early Philharmonics, when his feeling and execution made a deep impression. He was indeed considered little, if at all, inferior to those who stand first. On this occasion, his choice of subject was not happy-the excessive heat of the room indisposed his hearers to attention-and the player himself was a little nervous, for upon the whole he did not maintain the ground he had so decidedly taken. At this concert, Master Ormsby also assisted. His voice is rich and sweet, but is fast approaching its period of decay. This circumstance, however, has changed the boy's destination, and he has been sent to England to engage in the profession of music. We believe the song he sang, Eveleen's Bower, to have been the melody which so deeply affected the King.* The Oratorio on Whitsun-eve comprised a noble and very various selection of ancient and modern composition, and was supported by a cento of the finest talents, both English and foreign. Mr. Vaughan, Mr. Sapio, Mr. Pyne, Mr. Begrez, and Signor Torri, were the tenors. Mr. Bellamy, Signors Ambrogetti, Zuchelli, Placci, De Begnis, and Cartoni, the basses. Mrs. Salmon, Mrs. Bellchambers, Mesdames Camporese and De Begnis, with Misses Stephens, Goodall, and Povey, the sopranos. Moscheles, Mori, Lindley, Bochsa, Dizi, and Nicholson, the concerto and obligato players, made up a band that has rarely been exceeded. Some of the most splendid of Handel's songs, duets, and choruses, with Lord Burghersh's Bajazet, Rossini's Mose in Egitto, part of Haydn's Creation, and Beethoven's Mount of Olives, afforded the sacred and serious parts. To these were added, airs and duets, from Arne, Mozart, and living composers; altogether presenting a mass of performance so See p. 393 of last Vol. >vast, that we almost wonder at the patience of the audience to hear it out. The million must love quantity dearly, for no excellence of quality could keep attention alive during so protracted a period. Music for charity's sake, it seems, does not succeed so well as dancing. The grand Concert at the Mansion House failed to attract; and the pro- vision in the bills by which the tickets were limited to 1200, was found quite unnecessary; not more than 150 persons attending, in spite of the very earnest endeavours of the Lady Mayoress, of the two Duchesses, the six Marchionesses, two Countesses, and other noble ladies, the patronesses, (a list almost as long as that in Leporello's Madamina) who doubtless exerted all their interest and energy in the cause of the famished Irish. Mr. Lafont performed, and justified the good opinion we had entertained of his ability. But Mr. Kiese wetter, whose Concert has just taken place, certainly surpasses his competitors as a concerto player, in neatness and velocity of execution, in delicacy of tone and expression, in precision, and in general power. How far these great qualities may be compensated by Mori's boldness, vigour, and grandeur of style, is perhaps a nice and doubtful question; the profession and the public appear to incline towards the former. Thus there can be little question that England is now thoroughly engaged in the study, practice, and enjoyment of music, and that the rewards held out by the metropolis have this season concentrated an immense proportion of the talents of all the great European schools of art. At present, we have been so much occupied by the contemplation of the practical examples, that we have neither time nor space for the general conclusions that present themselves. Such speculations, however, will serve, when facts are less abundant. The largest and most important publication of this month is the Grace Book, an anonymous, but very philosophical treatise on the science and application of the ornamental parts of vocal art; with nearly seven hundred examples, drawn from composers and singers of all ages, and in all styles. This is in every sense a very valuable addition to the litera ture of music, as well as to the demonstrations of the particular branch to which it belongs. It very philothe boundaries sophically marks which good taste has assigned to gracing—that hitherto indefinite and ill-understood term; it classes and distinguishes the powers of ornament, and supplies an almost unlimited combination of passages in all keys. The method of arrangement is very simple, when understood. All the intervals are classed and divided from a single note to the widest distances met with-as into seconds, thirds, fourths, fifths, &c.; the original interval is given in large notes, and the grace notes, or those to be substituted, are put in smaller. The keys are classed, and are the same as in the songs from which they are actually selected, and by transposition may be applied to any other key within the impress of the singer's voice. Thus a diversity of twenty or thirty, or more passages, upon every possible interval which it may be desired to ornament, is presented to the choice of the singer. And it is not only to singing that the book applies. Instrumentalists will find in it a great help to their invention and imagination, while provincial teachers will have a fund of ornament to apply to, which exists no where else. The practice of such a book as Solfeggi, will, we are persuaded, confer a facility that nothing else can give, and we therefore earnestly recommend it. The published parts of the music of The Law of Java (which the composer has presented to his Majesty, at court, by express permission) are very lively, light, and catching. There are two duets, which, though they cannot be said to equal Mr. Bishop's very beautiful and original adaptation of Shakspeare's words, are nevertheless very pleasing and sweet. Dungeons and Slavery, a cantata, and When Clouds of Sorrow, are agreeable songs. The one is written in a short compass, to display probably Miss M. Tree's particular quality of voice; and the other, a slow introductory expressive movement, with a quick second part, mingles traits of Rossini's, with Mr. Bishop's own manner. These, with a French Romance to English words, are all of the Opera that are yet in print. They |