quixotic gravity and lean solemnity of his long thin features, form a countenance which we would describe, by calling it a burlesque anamorphosis of John Kemble's, and which, when perk'd up into irritable, pettish expression, or chuckling with the enjoy ment of his own cunning or contrivance, is irresistibly droll. We would distinguish his Periwinkle and his Yuseph in the Siege of Belgrade, as happy illustrations of his excellence. Mr William Murray is the brother of Mrs H. Siddons, a very young man, but highly deserving of that commendation, by which the fair promises of merit should always be encouraged. From the unremitting attention which he pays to his business, and a strong good sense which he exhibits in those subordinate characters hitherto allotted him, we augur most favourably of his future progress. As his powers expand and his knowledge ripens, his confidence will increase, and he will get quit of that monotonous languor, and timid inertness, which at present seem to restrain him from attempting to give any thing like animated expression to passion or feeling. The pantomime of Mr Murray should not be passed unnoticed. We learn he has been under the regular instruction of Mr Farley of Covent-Garden, and he does great credit to his master. He is well qualified for this branch of the profession, by a neat and naturally graceful figure, and an uncommonly correct ear for music. To his care is confided the superintendance of these exhibitions. Mr Putnam, who was noticed in our last year's enumeration of the Drury-Lane company, added his respectable powers to the strength of the theatre. Mr Thompson, clean, well dressed, and of a good figure, took the se cond line in tragedy and comedy; and, though we admit that he bawls too much, his industry and attention are entitled to more regard than they meet. Independent of the auxiliary ta lents of the elder Mrs Siddons, and of Mrs Jordan, with which our theatre was adorned in the course of the season 1809-1, the permanent list of the establishment contained a very strong combination of female excel. lence in the profession. First in the list, undoubtedly stands Mrs Henry Siddons. The praise given to this charming actress in our last year's Register, we feel inclined most warmly to confirm and extend. The varied and forceful expression of her voice and features, the quick, ap propriate, and ever-present feeling, the just and animated intelligence, with which she enlivens and realizes the business of the scene, place her in the first rank of professional excellence. The attractive tenderness of domestic affection, the sparkling and playful simplicity, the unconscious archness of girlish innocence; that flexible and frolic joyousness, with which health invigorates the form of beauty, and that light hearted hila rity with which the constitutional vivacity of youth inspires the bright and unexperienced mind,—so careless yet so captivating, so free yet so feminine,--she delineates with a felicity and skill, which we can scarcely praise sufficiently, without appearing to praise extravagantly. It will be naturally imagined, that powers thus assimilated to the finer and lighter features of the drama, are not calcu lated to reach the higher energies and the harsher passions of the tragic muse; but Melpomene has regarded her with an eye of peculiar favour, and in the soft solicitudes of love, in the supplications of sorrow, the wild, etherial, and impressive quietude of madness, or the pathetic pleadings of agonized affection, she wins her way to the heart with irresistible force, If we deny her claim to the sceptre of terror, that of pity is all her own; and never, surely, was the celestial being of the poets' conception more beautifully embodied. Returning from this pleasing admiration to the remembrance of our critical duty, we must compel ourselves to point out some of the faults of this delightful performer.-In the first place, then, we sometimes think that the frequent habit of performing characters of pathetic tenderness has induced an intonation, which appears like what we would call whining, when used in situations where it is not inspired by correspondent emotion. The powers of playful fascination also, which she has been accustomed so successfully to exert, may sometimes, perhaps, betray her judgement, and surprise her into the very natural weakness of wishing to transfer the sympathy of the audience from the part to the actress; and we have sometimes fancied we have found her coquetting with the house, and yielding to the temptation of making us say, instead of "what an amiable creature is Amanthis," what an amiable woman is Mrs H. Siddons, who plays Amanthis! Further, although we willingly pardon a piece of affectation in a pretty woman, we assure Mrs Sid. dons, that she is in no danger of losing the slightest degree of her influence over our hearts, although shẹ should sometimes withdraw her beautiful eyes from the house to the scene, and divest them a little of that rotatory exercise with which, it might seem, she endeavours to increase their expression. Mrs Young, (formerly of Drury-Lane,) is an actress of varied excellence. She sustains the heroine of genteel comedy with ease, elegance, and grace, and the weightier ladies of tragedy with force, with dignity, and feeling; and in those parts, more particularly, in which the tone of passion is not loud, but tender, Latural, and true, she exhibits a happiness of execution which is hardly equalled on the British stage. She owes a great deal to a highly elegant person and deportment, which, whether displayed in the gracefulness of a fashionable fair one, or the soft symmetry of a youth, is always engaging and attractive. Her face, though not regularly handsome, is often playful and often powerful; and her clear voice is exhibited in an articulation singularly pure and distinct. At times, perhaps, she rather yields to the broad tone of Mrs Jordan's style, which is only pleasing, and not always pleasing, in its original. In general, her judgment is excellent, her feelings ardent, her humour considerable, and her knowledge of her art extensive. Mrs Haller and Mrs Beverley are strong and praise-worthy examples of her powers in the serious cast of characters, and Lady Teazle, and Maria in the Citizen, in the comic; and to her justly appertains the merit of being incomparably the best representative of the eccentric Widow Brady. The hoyden, the chambermaid, and the rustic, the simpleton and the sylph, find an excellent representative in Mrs W. Penson. This lady possesses a small and pretty person, with an intelligent and animated counte, nance; her eye is large and sparkling, and her mouth ornamented with a full proportion of very white teeth; her voice is pleasantly sharp and powerful, her utterance rapid, and her flow of spirits exhaustless. She is, too, a very pleasing and scientific singer, though not always safe. With these qualifications, it is almost needless to remark how entertaining in her hands are such parts as Priscilla Tomboy, Floretta, Madge, or Audrey. Her very best part is, perhaps, William, in Rosina, where her pretty figure, is displayed to all possible advantage. Mrs Nicol is the representative of all the old women, whether polished or vulgar, serious or burlesque, and when she is not polished or serious, she is very entertaining. Her Mrs Malaprop is strikingly excellent, merely by her giving the slipslopism of the character with the most undeviating gravity, and never appearing to taste the joke herself. The subordinate departments are well filled, and the business well supplied and conducted. One great deficiency, however, there is, to supply which every attempt that has been hitherto made has been ineffectualthere is no elegant young man in the establishment; no Surface, or Belcour, or Archer: Mr Siddons, therefore, is compelled to undertake these himself; and we need not say how entirely they are out of his line. The first new piece presented to the Edinburgh audience was Di. mond's Foundling of the Forest, which has already been noticed in this year's record of the London Drama; it is therefore needless to make any farther critical mention of the play we shall only observe, that although it must be admitted to violate the purity of taste as a dramatic composition, and not to contain wri ting of great poetic merit, we yet think the severity there bestowed upon it quite too general and inconsiderate; and that due praise has not been given to the skill and ingenuity with which the fable is told, and the numerous incidents selected and combined, so as instantly to awaken the most lively attention, progressively to deepen the interest, and to keep the mind in the keenest suspence to the very last moment of the play. From the acting, this drama received every advantage; and in many respects must certainly have been much superior to the London representation. To the Eugenia of Mrs H. Siddons, Mrs Glover's will bear no comparison: eminent as this lady is in comedy, in tragedy she is turgid and unnatural, and her grief is hyste rically disgusting. Mrs H. Siddons never once departed from, or exceeded the truth of character in the poor persecuted Maniac; she was "solemn, wild, and impressive, timid, tender, and beautiful in her misery.” De Valmont gave Mr Siddons scope for the exhibition of his best powers. Mr Terry made his first appearance before an Edinburgh audience in Mr Farley's part of Bertrand, and instantly produced that powerful inte rest in his favour, which has ever since been progressively encreasing. It is, indeed, one of his finest parts. L'Eclair and Rosabelle were enlivened by the comic good-humour of Berry, and the sprightliness of Mrs W. Penson. The play met with the most decided success; it ran for many nights together, and continued to be performed throughout the season with undiminished effect. The next novelty was the revival of the Winter's Tale. Possessing, as might be imagined, a kind of hereditary reverence as well as professional ric affection for the name of Shakespeare, Mr Siddons at once gratified his own taste, and paid the most acceptable compliment to that of the public, by bringing forward, in the most tasteful and appropriate style, the plays of our national bard. Accordingly, upon the Winter's Tale, and, shortly after, upon the Tempest, were bestowed all the advantages which scenery, dress, and decoration could impart. Every thing was executed with full attention to characteristic propriety, and with a correctness, beauty, and magnificence, which could not be exceeded in any theatre of equal capacity. Nor was the acting unworthy of the ornamental depart ment. The peculiar abilities of each performer were generally well considered and judiciously applied; a minute attention was every where paid to the necessary business of the scene; and a most laudable accuracy of study exhibited throughout all the characters. In the Winter's Tale, Leontes was played by Mr Siddons, Camillo by Mr Archer, Antigonus by Mr Terry, Florizel by Mr Putnam, and Autolycus by Mr Berry. Mrs Young was the representative of Hermione, Mrs Siddons of Paulina, and Mrs Vining of Perdita. From the general praise which is justly due to the correct and impressive exertions of all, it is unnecessary to select any one as the mark of particular commendation, with the exception, perhaps, of Mrs H. Siddons, who, for the first time, undertook the character of Paulina. The delicacy of her figure and habitual prettiness of manners did not exactly assimilate with our notions of the dauntless virago, who scolds the king and bullies the courtiers; yet, by the force of vigorous conception and true discrimination, aided by very strong feeling, she gave an energy and pathos to this rash and fiery but generous and amiable champion of domestic virtue, that equally surprised and delighted us. The hall of trial and the bower of Perdita were from the pencil of Mr Nasmyth, and did credit to his talents and his taste, with the exception of an absurd endeavour to carry on the appearance of a crowd by means of painted groups of figures in the galleries of the trial scene. The illusory effect, if any, can be but for the duration of an instant; and the deception, once observed, is an object of perpetual dissatisfaction. În the Tempest, the scenery (throughout entirely new) was the work of Mr Williams,* an artist hitherto unknown to fame, but giving good promise of deserving it. The landscapes were wild and picturesque, the bold fantastic forms of uncultivated nature were well imagined, and the character of mysterious solitude well expressed. Mr Williams's deficiency seems chiefly to be in his execution. There is a coarse and hasty daubing (too coarse even for scenepainting) frequently observable in his work, that looks more like the perplexed and clumsy scrambling of ignorance to conceal its deficiencies, than the indolence of a scientific and dexterous artist, willing to spare his labour. He is evidently wanting, too, in the principles of his art, as well as in the finer dexterities of execution; and perspective and architecture should be the objects of his serious study. The Tempest was thus *Not Mr Hugh William Williams, an eminent water-colour artist of this city, but Mr J. F. Williams, whose talents are devoted chiefly, if not exclusively, to the decorations of the theatre. east:-Prospero, Mr Terry; Hippolyto, Mrs Young; Ferdinand, Mr Putnam; Trinculo, Mr Mason; Stephano, Mr Kelly; Caliban, Mr Berry; Miranda, Mrs Vining; Dorinda, Mrs H. Siddons; and Ariel, Mrs Penson. It should perhaps be noticed, that, notwithstanding all this anxious attention and costly preparation which Mr Siddons thus lavished upon the productions of Shakespeare, these two plays met with a reception and encouragement rather cold and doubtful when compared to that which was given to the Foundling of the Forest, and other pieces of a similar or, inferior worth. The first sensation of our minds on such an occasion, fond of and familiar as they are with the unparalleled excellence of Shakespeare's compositions, is asto nishment, mixed with an inclination to censure the taste of the age which ean reject such rare and powerful writings for the efforts of Dimond or Reynolds. Mr Siddons has done his duty; he has made trial of our taste, and he is henceforth justified in yielding to its current; દ « The drama's laws the drama's patrons give." and the public must not blame a manager who only obeys the necessity which themselves impose, when he produces the ephemeral and high-seasoned exhibitions which excite curiosity by their novelty, and attract the greatest numbers of spectators by the glitter of decoration, by pomp, and noise, and nonsense. Something, however, may be said in defence of the public. There is great degree of error in our censure of it, which arises from confounding the intellect of the closet with the mental perceptions exercised in a theatre. A drama may (and many of Shakespeare's do) contain pro found knowledge of nature, great truth of character, unbounded luxuriance of imagination, the highest ori ginality of poetic invention and harmony of composition, and yet st possess that inferior, perhaps, but re cessary quality which is requisite to make them, in representation, the idols of popular admiration. It may be easily conceived, we think, that a play combining all the above excellencies, may be so addressed to cer tain remote and considerative facul ties of the mind, abstruse and reflec tive perceptions of the intellect, as to require the familiarity of private me ditation before they produce that ef fect, which, to ensure them success in public, they must create instanta neously; that is, before they are ca pable of exciting emotion, of com manding our sympathies, and of be coming the inmates of our hearts. A composition may also call for some factitious character of taste, some st perinduced state of the feelings, founded on peculiar modes of education, or particular and favourite pursuit perceived and relished; and thus coa of study, before its worth can be tract the circle of its popular infu ence, and elude those more universal and superficial feelings, those mor natural and immediate operations of the mind, on which theatrical success is strongly founded; and which, if well addressed, will ensure populari ty to a very moderate production; when, if neglected, the finest poetry will be in danger of public disregard. Again-characters, their situations, their sentiments and feelings, though drawn with the best powers of gene us, may, by the romance of poetical imagination, be removed from the touch of human sympathy, and car |