MONTHLY MISCELLANY. INCLUDING VARIETIES, CRITICAL, LITERARY, AND HISTORICAL. THE STAGE. ESSAYS TO ILLUSTRATE THE PRESENT STATE THE process of our dramatic review has at length brought us to the works of Farquhar, a writer of whom it is impossible to speak without something of that pleasantry and complacency of temper, with which he himself seems to have written; a writer, always at ease; certainly not with the genius of Vanburgh, but with a pleasing, soldier-like gaiety, which always animates, and keeps up the spirit of an audience, and never overpowers the understanding. As a writer, he is certainly not to be ranked with Congreve or Vanburgh; he has not the poetic brilliancy, or perfection of art, which belonged to the one, nor the nervous elegance, and vigorous grace, which chiefly characterise Vanburgh. Farquhar, as it were, merely vents the gaiety and humour of a mind of strong perceptions; and produces them with a perfect carelessness; he seems talking, as it were, in his mess-room, and is satisfied to entertain his company with mirth poured out at random, but wanting every other recommendation but that of the strength of original perception, and the simplicity with which it is delivered. All the comedies of Farquhar partake of this character. The dialogue is certainly pleasant to a degree, but sometimes relapses into unmeaning levity, and occasionally into a pertness and petulance, not very suitable to the condition of his characters. His plots are the loose connection of incidents, having no natural union, or tendency to any other main desigu than the conclusion of the piece in five acts. His characters, however, are good sketches of persons whom most probably he himself had met with. His Recruiting Officer is perhaps his own portrait. His Boniface is one of those hosts who is to be seen in every country town, and is natural and strongly drawn. The great defect in all the plays of this writer is a general want of vigour, and a total absence, particularly in his female characters, of grace and refinement. He possessed, however, in a very eminent degree, the art of fixing the attention of his audience, by a stream of incident, equally distant from the extravagance of romance, and the regular progress as of a natural dramatic action. He was much superior to Centlivre, and the imitators of the Spanish school, as Vanburgh was superior to him. The three best Comedies of this writer, and by which alone he keeps possession of the stage, are the Recruiting Officer, the Inconstant, and the Beaux Stratagem. In these plays there is nothing which satisfies the critic's notion of plot; there is no natural perplexity; no course of action thrown into an artificial con fusion, and fabricated, for the purpose of surprising by ingenious extrication. In the Comedies of this writer we never observe the poet in the highest point of his art; there is no imitation of life and manners which illudes the fancy by the fidelity of its copy, and improves. the barreness of nature by sketches of imagi|| nation. It seems indeed beyond the reach of this writer, to combine into an orderly dramatic fable the confused movements of the scene of life, and to select, with the necessary judgment, those points of character and action, the imaginary picture of which exceeds the force and efficacy of the reality. In the plots of Farquhar, if plots we may call them, there is action, but no fable; there is trick, but there is no art; and the issue of the action is always some artificial point, which has no peculiar natural connection, but might be the termination of any action whatever!-His plays are, in fact, a mere pleasant series of incidents, the junction of which is not so unnatural, as it is not appropriate, The Comedy of the Recruiting Officer is lively to a degree. Kite is a character whose very appearance is pleasantry itself; he is a character which, divested of his wit, and leaving a very considerable part of his humour, may be seen in every regiment. This is the true artifice of comic writing, where the ground-work is natural, and the pencil of the artist is no further employed than to raise the painted complexion to that effect, which, in the remote representation of the drama, is necessary to give it the resemblance of nature. Plume is not so vigorous a character as Kite, but he is gay and pleasant; he has a fault, however, into which Farquhar too often falls; he is too inelegant for the gentleman, and wants the decorum of common intercourse. The humour of Brazen is natural, but overcharged. The women-we wish we had a more decent word to express our meaning-are something be tween the Bagnio and Arcadia; they have grossness and indelicacy, added to the folly of romance. They are merely creatures of the writer's imagination. COVENT GARDEN.-On Tuesday, Feb 4th a new Drama entitled The Knight of Snowdoun, was produced at this theatre. The plot of it is the story of the Lady of the Lake, with one or two alterations so as to augment its dramatic effect. One of these alterations, the omission of Malcolm Greene, is doubtless an improvement in the play, and would have been one in the poem, the effect of the character of || Roderick being much impaired by transferring the affections of Eller upon Malcolm. Roderick fights for her, and therefore according to the laws of poetry, as well as the laws of war, ought in good reason to have her. In this respect, therefore, the play is certainly improved upon the story of the poems. The Inconstant is a play in which there is a pleasantry both of character and incidents, which animates the spirits, and, like a laugh or jest in conversation, forces its way, without suffering any subtraction from its effect in the point of truth and justice. It has no vigour either of character or humour, but it has an infinite gaiety, and a kind of active progress, which fastens upon the attention, and renders the audience as pleasant as the writer. There is still however something unpleasing in this comedy. There is a mixture of French manners, which is pointedly contrary to an English taste. There are, both in Duretete and Bisarre, a whim and degree of humour, but they are evidently forced, and in caricature. The inconstancy of Mirabel is a most odious indecorum. He has nothing of the young man which naturally recommends him to indulgence; he is gay without feeling; gallant without elegance; and is ouly at last reclaim-out for something to be done. ed by one of those romantic absurdities which are found necessary to redeem a character from absolute detestation. The Beaux Stratagem is the last, and most perfect, of the comedies of this writer.-It has such a spirit of dialogue from beginuing to end, such an equal blaze of humour; it abounds with domestic character, so faithfully and unaffectedly painted, that it is never seen but with uniform pleasure.-Like the Confederacy, its wit is familiar and vigorous; aud though totally without fable, the interest which every one takes in the characters supplies the want of it. Scrub is a character drawn with so much the more difficulty, as his character consists rather in what painters would call a whole, than in any prominent lines and features; for though every point is humorous, there is nothing extravagant or forced. In a word, this is a comedy which wants nothing to perfection but a natural plot, and a little more decorum in the female characters. The dialogue is extremely happy, both in the vein of humour which sparkles through it without intermission, and the ease and facility of its verbal texture. The concluding scene is a strange flight of improbability; and whilst all around him reform, Archer is left by the author in confident and unblushing knavery, as too pleasant a fellow to be exhibited as a penitent. (To be continued.) The dramatic distribution of the fable, however, is very clumsy and inartificial; it follows the lagging course of the narrative, and forgets the distinction between action and narration. What is good in a poem is intolerable iu a drama; the passions are quick and abrupt, and nothing is so tedious as something to be said, when the attention is looking This fault, however, would be more tolerable if the poetry were better. But the dialogue is as vile as it is imprudently introduced. It is emptiness on stilts; a heavy dress of words enveloping very little sense. The bearer is puzzled to make out the meaning, and when he does make it out, he finds it to be nothing but the most common truism shrouded in uncommon words. The scenery in this piece was delightful, and fully indemnifies for the wearisome insipidity of the dialogue. We have seldom seen a more effective scene upon the stage, than that in which Rhoderick Dhu avows himself to Fitz-James of Snowdoun, and summons up his ambush of Highland troops at the call of his bugle.--As this scene is faithfully copied from the poetic picture of it in the Lady of the Lake, we shall lay the description before our readers. "Have, then, thy wish!" he whistled shrill, And every tuft of broom gives life Mr. C. Kemble, in Fitzjames, acted with great ease, and what is to his credit, did not overact his part. It was not his fault that the character wanted effect. The writer followed the narrative too closely, and Mr. C. Kemble could not help following the writer. Miss Booth was not altogether the Ellen we wished; she is, however, a very spirited actress. Young, in Roderick Dhu, made the most of his part; and Mrs. Dickons sang with great excellence. Liston, as usual, was the fool of the piece, a mere Grizzle, without the propriety of such a character being introduced in this piece. It is highly creditable to the Managers of this house to observe them intent upon the revival of such plays as are honourable to the genius of the nation, and stand foremost as the work of our most distinguished classics. With the advantages which their theatre possesses of scenery and exterior decoration, it is really gratifying to see them profuse upon works of real taste and value. It has all the characteristics of public spirit, to observe them liberal in decorating the plays of Shakespeare and of others, and thus admitting them, in the revival of theîr pieces, to be par takers of our national wealth and refinement. To be liberal in those pleasures which are really intellectual, and in which the moral sense is solely consulted, is the characteristic of a people who cherish the arts for their noblest purposes. One of the most pleasing revivals at this Theatre during the present season, is Shakespeare's Comedy of Twelfth Night. This is one of those dramatic Romances in which the fancy of Shakespeare is more conspicuous than his judgment. It is a level, easy flight of ima gination, in which, trusting to the native vigour of his powers, he has avoided all labour, with the exception of what he has casually bestowed upon two or three scenes. This play, however, exhibits great dexterity in the plot. The resemblance between Sebastian and Viola, though borrowed from Plautus, and employed for other purposes in The Comedy of Errors, is made the subject of such ingenious confusion, as to entitle it to the highest praise of comic invention. It is, perhaps, a defect in this piece, that a plot is scarcely apparent at all till the fourth act, and the mystery is no sooner presented, than it is understood by the audience. There is something truly comic in the character of Malvolio; hè has a dry conceit, á solemn importance, which mark him off, and distinguish him from the levity of the common-place coxcombs; and, what constitutes. the excellence of the part, he becomes ridiculous, and is punished by the delusion of his own pride. Sir Andrew Aguecheck is a character too weak for satire, and his natural folly is so spare and barren, that it scarcely affords a foundation for dramatic humour. Sir Toby Belch is a natural character, but Duke, are not very vigorously conceived, or not strongly marked. Olivia, Viola, and the happily pourtrayed; but the action, in which they are engaged, fastens so much upon curiosity, as to leave little attention for any independent excellence. In a word, this Comedy displays a happy onion of scenes alternately serious and lively, in which what is grave is familiar and graceful, and what is comic is forcible and just. It has been objected that the subsequentmarriage of Olivia wants credibility. This. is true; but the Comedy of Twelfth Night must not be considered as a copy of nature in. the truth of fable, and the fidelity of real cir. cumstances, but as attempting a more diffcult and destructive imitation the accuracy. of just humour, and the faithful portraiture of living character. With respect to the performance of this play, we are pleased that, in the main, we can speak favourably. Mrs. C. Kemble represented Olivia with great propriety, and MissBooth, in Viola, if not very forcible, was interesting and agreeable. Emery's Sir Toby Belch was a coarse conception, and we can speak no better of Fawcett's Clown-a hard. outline, rude and unfinished. Liston, in Malvolio, was scarcely dry enough, and he disap-. pointed us in the scene in which he finds the letter. It is but justice, however, to say, that this character is not easily made effective. With respect to the revival of Cato, we have chiefly to comment upon the performance of it. The merits of the play itself have been long settled, and criticism and the popular taste are in one mind with respect to them. Cato is a play, which, considered as a contrirance of dramatic artifice, or as a series of human actions, has little claim to praise, and none at all to approbation. It is a straight line of declamation from beginning to end. The dialogue, however, is that of the Poet and Orator combined. It has a regular majesty, worthy of the splendour and dignity of Rome at the highest pitch of her eloquence. The poetry, however, is such as it is not very difficult to produce. Its excellence consists not so much in the magnificence of its imagery as in the sublimity of its virtue and morality That in which it strikes the auditors, and forcibly impresses their reason, is its elevation of sentiment. It would have been absurd to have revived this tragedy without the powerful assistance of Mr. Kemble's Cato. His performance of this character was such as satisfied the judgment of every man, and as far as the character would admit, made its way to the feelings of all. He cannot make Cato amiable, but he makes him great; he displays him in the awful grandeur of virtue, and in the generous devotion of a patriot, the wreck of sinking liberty, and the ruin of a cause which never elevated itself after this fall. In a word, Mr. Kemble's taste and judgment were never more conspicuous; he never delivered a finer lesson of oratory from the stage. Mr. C. Kemble, and Mr. Young, in Juba and Portius, did ample justice to their parts; and we never saw Egerton to more advantage than in the rough and wily African, Syphax. LYCEUM.-A new Opera called The Peasant Boy, has been produced at this theatre. An Italian Duke (Holland) goes to the wars: his cousin (Raymond) becomes anxious for the title and estates; be attempts to woo the Duke's niece, but is rejected. Disappointed in love, he resolves to murder him, and as the Duke is about to return at that precise period, be determines to murder him. A rencontre ensues, in which, after receiving a slight wound, Alberti is rescued by the sudden appearance of Ludovico (Lovegrove), who pursues the assassin, and wounds him in the right hand. The assassin Montalvi Hies, and to escape the pursuit, which is close upon him, dcops his cloak, mask, and dagger, at the door of a peasant's cottage. Julian, the peasant's No. XVI, Vol. III.-N. S. || son (Miss Kelly) comes out, and in the act of examining the cloak, is seized by the Duke's servants. He is thrown into prison, and at length brought to trial, when, at the moment of sentence, Ludovico appears, and Montalvi is convicted of the crime. This piece is the production of Mr. Dimond. In its character, it is one of those pieces which, by not pretending to merit, is entitled to considerable indulgence. It seems to have no other purpose, and to aim at no higher object than merely that of amusing a vacant hour, and it would be needless rigour, therefore, to speak of it with too much severity. There are some faults, however, which ought not to be wholly passed over, being of a nature, if allowed to go over in silence, such as to corrupt the public taste. They are in fact the more vicious, because to a superficial eye they wear the resemblance of something like excellences. One of these faults is an absurd overabundance of that kind of figurative language, in which the terms of the figure are taken from the office, profession, or character in life, of the speaker. For example, if a barber be introduced, he dresses his language, and curls bis compliments; ob erves, perhaps, that vir tue is in itself innately beautiful, but that a good head of hair is not the worse for being frizzled. In the same manner, if a soldier be introduced, he speaks of every thing in mili tary terms; thinks that candour should be always in the advance, and virtue in the rear; that fortune, perhaps, may dissipate the light infautry of Summer Acquaintance, but that a true friend is always a heavy-armed cavalry; and that it is always well to have one in the corps de reserve. Now all this, and all that is like it, which makes up the best part of the dialogue of this piece, and of almost all that are brought out, is most miserable stuff. And this for two reasons; first, because it is unnatural and absurd, and, secondly, because it is the easiest of all possible nonsense. As to the plot of this Play, it is likewise very indifferent. The Peasant Boy is like a King; ought to do every thing, and does almost nothing. He is a complete blockhead, and all those about him must have been as great fools as himself, or they would not have seized him as a murderer, because he picked up the knife and cloak. Another new piece called The Bee Hive, which is extremely pleasant, but not fit to criticise, has been produced, with success, at this Theatre. INCIDENTS OCCURRING IN AND NEAR LONDON, INTERESTING MARRIAGES, &c. Council, among whom were Earl Moira, Lords Keith, Cassilis, Hutchinson, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. M. Angelo Taylor, Mr. Tyrwhitt, Colonel Mac Mahon, Colonel Bloomfield, General Hulse, Mr. Bicknell, &c. &c. (His Chancellor was by accident not present, and there was a delay in consequence of his Royal Highness's anxious desire of his presence.) The Prince was also accompanied by all the Royal Dukes. They passed through the room where the Privy Councillors were assembled, through the Circular Drawingroom, into the Grand Saloon (a beautiful room in scarlet drapery, embellished with portraits of all the most distinguished Admirals who have fought the battles that have given us the dominion of the seas), and here the Prince seated himself at the top of the table-his Royal Brothers and Cousin seated themselves on each of his Household, not Privy Concillors, ranged themselves on each side of the entrance to the Saloon. The Privy Councillors then proceeded, all in full dress, according to their rank-the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord Chancellor, the Archbishop of York, the Lord President, the Lord Privy Seal, &c. &c. and as they severally entered, they made their reverence to the Prince, who made a graceful return to each, and they successively took their places at the table, and lastly, Mr. Falkener and Sir Stephen Cotterell took their seats, as Clerk and Keeper of the Records. The Prince then spoke to the following effect: CEREMONY OF THE INSTALLATION.Wed- || nesday, Feb. 6, being the day appointed for swearing in the Prince of Wales as Regent, before his taking upon himself that important office, about twelve o'clock a party of the flank companies of the grenadiers, with their colours, || the band of the 1st regiment, drums and fifes, with white gaiters on, marched into the courtyard of Carlton-house, where the colours were pitched in the centre of the grand entrance; the band struck up "God save the King," and continued playing that national piece alternately with martial airs during the day till near five o'clock. Colonel Bloomfield, one of the Prince's principal attendants, having written to the Earl of Macclesfield, the Captain of his Majesty's Yeomen of the Guard, informing him it was his Royal Highness's commands that as many of the Yeomen of the Guard should attend at Carlton-hand according to seniority, and all the Officers house, as usually attend upon Councils being held by the King in state. The Noble Earl not being in Londou, the letter was opened by the Exon in waiting, who ordered six Yeomen and an Usher to attend at Carlton-house, which they accordingly did; and they, together with the Prince's servants in state, lined the grand hall and staircase; several of the Life-Guardsmen were also in some of the rooms, in a similar manBer as on Court-days at St. James's, About a quarter before two o'clock, the Duke of Montrose arrived, being the first of the Privy Councillors who attended; he was followed by all the Royal Dukes, and a very numerous assemblage of Privy Councillors, who had all arrived by a quarter before three o'clock. The whole of the magnificent suite of state apartments were opened, and the illustrious persons were all ushered into the Gold Room (so called from the style of the ornaments.) Almost every Privy Councillor now in town was present and they were above an hundred in number. About half past two o'clock, Earl Moira, of his Royal Highness's Council, being also a Privy Councillor of the King, brought a message from the Prince to the President of the Council, Earl Camden, desiring his attendance on the Prince in an adjoining room, according to the usual form, to communicate to him officially the return to the summons, &c. The Noble Earl accordingly went with Earl Moira, made the necessary intimations to his Royal Highness, and returned to the company; who during this time of waiting, were highly gratified with seeing the Princess Charlotte on horseback, accompanied by two grooms, make the tour of the beautiful gardens at the back of the Palace. Her Royal Highness appeared to be in excellent health and spirits. After Earl Camden's return, the Prince approached in grand procession, preceded by the Officers of his own Household, and several of his MY LORDS-I understand that by the Act passed by the Parliament appointing me Regent of the United Kingdom, in the name and on be half of his Majesty, I am required to take certain oaths, and to make a declaration before your Lordships, as prescribed by the said Act. I am now ready to take these oaths, and to make the declaration prescribed. The Lord Privy Seal then rose, made his reverence, approached the Regent, and read from a parchment the oath as follows-The Prince, with an audible voice, pronounced after him :"I do sincerely promise and swear that I will "be faithful and bear true allegiance ta "his Majesty King George.-So help me "God." "I do solemnly promise and swear, that I will "truly and faithfully execute the office of "Regent of the United Kingdom of Great "Britain and Ireland, according to an Act of "Parliament passed in the fifty-first year of "the reign of his Majesty King George the "Third (intitled, An Act, &c.) and that f "will administer, according to law, the power and authority vested in me by virtue "of the said Act; and that I will in all things |