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appropriate thing for bonnets, trimmings, || this trimming is then quilled full and set &c. that we have ever seen; it is at once on. The bottoms of dresses are trimmed light, rich, elegant, and novel; the latter to correspond, except that " rows on rows" recommendation would, with most of our of trimming arise, as they have done for fair fashionables, be of itself sufficient; but some time past. the Britannia triu.miug has more solid claims For dinner dress poplins, sarsnets, and to geveral favour than novelty, its effect as velvets are must general; cloth is also wom a trimming is far superior to that of any de but partially. The ladies who have reseription of fur for which it is intended as a cently returned from Paris have brought substitute, and it is not only appropriate to with them French silks, which might vie pelisses, &c. but it is also admirably calcu- with the brocades of our grand-mammas lated for every deseription of dinner dress; its for substance and durability; nothing can effect on velvet is particularly striking and indeed be more beautiful than those doublebeautiful : but, to return to the walking sided silks, as they are called; but as their costume. Since the introductiou of searfs, li importation is strictly prohibited, many of &c. fur tippets have declined considerably į our fair fashionables are obliged to content in favour, and are now but very little woru. i themselves with our imitation of them,
In the carriage costume Mrs. Beli's some of which are excellent. Irish poplins wrapping cloak, of which we have already have lost nothing of their attraction, but spoken, is in the bighest estimation ; they are generally worn in light colours; velvet cloaks and pelisses, and large India bright fauu, amber, drab, Clarence blue, shawls, are also in very great request;' and olive-green, are all in general request; spensers are exploded ; purple velvet cloaks, and although various trimmings are falived with white sarsnet, and edged with 'l shionable, lace, particularly blond, is in the the newly introduced Britannia trimming, highest estimation; it is, however, more have a most elegant etfect.
generally appropriated to full than to dinThe mourning for her Sicilian Majesty, ner dresses, except blond net, which is was coufiued entirely to the court, and it quilled very full on dinner dresses, the one has othered us nothing of novelty to lay be ' wbich we are about to describe struck nis fore our fair readers, we shall pass therefore as being very elegant and tasteful in no to those dresses of the mouth which we common degree. think worthy of their attention.
Frock of amber Irish poplin, tight to the In the morning costume chintz still re shape, and very short in the waist, eut very tajos its estimatioa, although the French low all round the bosom, and made to lace washing silks are also much in favour, and behind. The bottom of the dress is cut in Fruch cambrie and jacconet muslin, richly , points three rows of which are placed one trimared with lace, are also worn by manyl, above another, and trimmed with full plaitelegantes. In the form of high dresses there! ing of blond net, in the middle of which is is little novelty; the waists are, if possible, , tacked either a silk beading, or a dark shorter than ever; the baeks of dresses con- | pendy ribband: a double row of smaller tinue about the same breadth as last month, points trimmed in a similar manier, goes but collars, notwithstanding the coldness of round the boson and falls over. Plain the season, are quite oa the decline; morn- short white satin sleeve, with an epaulet ing dresses are now almost universally made formed of points to correspoad; simply in the manner of the cloth dress which we : elegant as this dress appears the very have described, in speaking of the walking great quantity of blood used renders it costume; where they are of silk or chintz, very expeusive. We have to observe, that they display underneath a rich shirt, and full bodies are, in every thing bet muslin are trimmed on each sale of the front with '; or white lace, entirely exploded, and cloth silk trauag, fizil plasting of ribband, or, dresses are now trimmed caly with silk as we have noticed ja a les instances, a trimming, ribband being quite on the de. piece of chinta better than a mail in chine. breadth, cut at each side in scollops, wbich In full-dress wbite satin, crape, and velo are edged with a very narrow ribband, and I vet for matrealy belks, are very general,
but French gauze is more in request than observed half handkerchiefs of silk net, any thing else; it is worn over white satin, with a border of flowers superbly emand trimmed in general with blond. In the broidered in coloured silks, pinned carelessly form of full-dress gowns we have no variety round the head, one end hanging in the to notice; frocks are still universal, the neck, and the other falling over the foreelegant one which we have given in our head. Print is deservedly the highest in estima These handkerchiefs, which remind us tion, but the one which we are about to strongly of those mentioned by Lady Mary describe, though less striking and tasteful, | Worthley Montague, in her letters from is yet worthy of the attention of our fair Turkey, are extremely beautiful, and when readers.
in dark net, have over fair hair a striking It is composed of striped French gauze effect; they are much in request, particuof the palest green, and is worn over a larly with matronly belles. white satin slip, is trimmed at bottom with In full dress, turbans continue to be much a single row of the most beautiful broad worn by matronly belles, they are in geneblond lace, put on very full, and edged at ral of crape or spangled gauze. top with a very pretty trimming of silk In undress jewellery, plain gold ornanet, the edge of this trimming, which is ments are at present most prevalent. composed of floss silk is extremely beauti In full-dress, coloured stones are very ful; there is nothing particular in the form general. The most fashionable lockets are of the body, except that it is sloped on each of amethyst, ruby, &c. set in pearl, and side of the bosom, so as to display an under fastened round the neck by a row of pearls. front of similar materials to the trimming at We have also observed some necklaces of bottom. Tucker of broad blond net, quill- | ruby, &c. set in pearl, which had a very ed in very full to the front only. Short || elegant effect. white satin sleeve, over which are three Many of our juvenile belles have no other rows of blond lace set on very full. This ornament in full-dress than a beautiful dress is at present a very great favourite, || chevelure, but in general pearls are in the but we apprehend that the one which we highest estimation, artificial flowers being have presented our fair readers with, will worn but very partially. shortly completely supersede it.
For the promenade, and indeed in some There is little alteration in the manner instances for the carriage costume, many of of wearing the hair since our last Number. our dashing fashionables have adopted corSome elegantés wear it full on the right | dovan boots, which are, strictly speaking, side, while a part of the hind hair is brought more then half-boots; we hope that a across the forehead on the left, and over fashion, which, in our opinion, is unfemithis braid the remainder of the front hair | vine and inelegant, will be short lived. falls in the lightest ringlets, and partly The dress slipper begins once more to shades the cheek. The hind hair is worn assume its proper form, and the simple as described in our last Number. This is rosette or clasp, has given place to a rich one of those fashions which become the embroidery in front, which has a very Greciau style of beauty, but we would not
tasteful effect. recommend it to general adoption.
Fans continue the same as last month. In half-dress, Jace caps still continue to
Fashionable colours for the month are be very general, and small lace handker- dark green, bright purple, ruby, and chiefs pioned at the back of the head, with brown, faun, amber, pale green, and French the ends falling in the neck, are also in high
rose colour. estimation. For dinner parties we have
almost as spectators at the Comitiæ. The fierce The Maid of the Mill has been revived at this military pride, the patrician haughtiness, the Theatre, with new music, furnished by a con
nabounded courage, the spirited contempt of the
mean arts of popularity, as displayed in the chafederacy of the best composers of the day. This
racter of Coriolanus, are transfused, with the alteration was, doubtless, necessary. The original music of The Maid of the Mill, unlike to that spirit of original feeling, into Mr. Kemble. He of Love in a Village, is not adapted to the present reading and study have impressed upon it, of the
repeats to the imagination the pictnre, which taste. It has nothing of that exquisite plaintive | Roman patrician, in the character and circumness and simplicity which delight us, both in the
stances of Coriolanus. This is at once the pernew compositions, and the selected airs, of the
section both of the art of acting, and the art of Beggar's Opera, and Love in a Village. It is writing. This is, in fact, all that is meaut by sombre and spiritless; as there is a perpetual re
nature; which is nothing but the correspondence currence of the same cadences, and a want of that
of what is represented by the acto or writer, taste which, in the present day, supersedes, with
with what is conceived by the spectator or reader, a popular audience, the labours of science itself. Whilst we condemn the old music of The Maid of || Mr. Kemble through particular scenes; be is
It does not belong to this criticism to follow the Mill, justice requires us to add, that we can
rather great and just in the whole, than through not much approve the new. It wants sweetness
the detail of individual parts; and every spectator and variety; its melodies neither reach the heart
leaves the theatre, or thinks he leaves it, with nor dwell upon the ear, air after air is heard and
the full conception of a Roman Consul. forgotten. Miss Stephens, in Patty, was ex
Mr. Kemble was received with an enthusiasm tremely interesting; there is such an absence of
of applause by a brilliant and crowded audience. affectation in her manner, so much simplicity, and such a modest meekness, that she invariably
His welcome seemed to impress him with senti
ments honourable to him. delights. If she had a little more force and va
On Friday, Nov. 4, Miss O'Neill appeared, riety, which good tuition would supply, her me
for the first time, in the character of Isabella. rit as an actress would fall little short of her
We understand that she has performed this chaeminence as a singer. Sinclair's Lord Aimworth,
racter once, aud once only, in Ireland, and that was an indifferent performance; he has little
she never had the advantage of seeing Mrs. Sidconception of acting. The character itself is
dons in this, or any other character. good, independent of the songs; and much of the
The play and the characters arepo well known, dialogue is better than what occurs in any other
that it would be a waste of words to expatiate piece of Bickerstaff's.
upon them. It is the only tragedy by which Mr. Kemble has re-appeared at this Theatre in
Southern keeps possession of the stage; and the the character of Coriolanus. Upon the general || character of Isabella has so peculiar and moral a character and merits of Mr. Kemble, who has dress, her sorrows are so unlike those of any other -long been the ornament of the British stage, all heroine of tragedy, that she is easily assimilated observation is unnecessary. He has at once com to the mind as a just picture of natural misery, bined and extended his art, and given us an ex. and spreads the most anxious and lively feeling ample of all the perfection which can be reached through the heart. in dramatic exhibitions, be great talents, im
It is well known, that the superiority of Mrs. proved by considerable learning, and adorned
Siddons as a tragic actress, was chiefly marked and assisted by superior natural endowments. || and asserted in this bold and beautiful character. Mr. Kemble, as an actor, may be considered as
To delineate the sorrows of Isabella, to pourtray the Aristotle of his art. His judgment never
the feelings of a distracted wife, and a divided fails him; his taste is invariably just. If occa
duty, to depicture those keen emotions which sionally he wants that vivacity of natural feeling, spring from the compunction of what we must and genuine tone of passion, which are so highly call an innocent crime, and blameless error; in a and justly applauded, in the performances of || word, to give the force of truth to a character some of his competitors, the only remark which
like this, in circumstances of specious guilt, and this deficiency can warrant, is, that Mr. Kemble
to represent the miseries of a delicate mind under is something less than perfect.
embarrassments, brought on by herself, but withHis performance of Coriolarus is a matchless out voluntary guilt, or self-imputation; this, we exhibition of taste and talent. He seems, as it say, was the matchless art of Mrs. Siddons, and were, to have received the manner and demean- | which, having once been exbibited by her in its our of a Roman hero. He not only strengthens, || highest perfection, seemed destined, like the Don but outruns the illusion of the poet; he brings || Quixote of Cervantes, to retire from the stage us into the very gates of Rome, and introduces us with its author,
Miss O'Neill having never seen Mrs. Siddons, il appeared not only to be a mistress of the tender approached this character without the materials passions, but to possess the power of exciting the of imitation, or the possibility of a borrowed ex boldest and most sublime affections; to roll, as it cellence; she undertook it as a novice, trusting were, the torrent of impetuons passion, and bear to the vigour and truth of her own conceptions, || down every opposing obstacle. The distress of and in the confidence of original, unaided powers. | Isabella, as here painted, bad nothing of a mawkShe is not, therefore, to be compared with Mrs. ish sorrow; it was sublimed and dignified by the Siddons, as if acting in her school. She had no capacity of the actress, and elevated to the full model before her eyes, but such as she saw re- pitch of the poet's fancy. flected in the large mirror of natare and truth, In a word, Miss O'Neill's Isabella is one of the which the Poet placed before her.
noblest performances of the tragic drama; and To judge her, therefore, in this character, we whilst it abundantly compensates the late chasm must not have recourse to any predecessor, but to left in the stage, it recalls, and establishes upon the ancestor-the Poet. We must not, in the its boards, a genuine truth and unborrowed najudgment which we pass upon her, retire back ture, unvitiated by the imitation of any former to the model of Mrs. Siddons, but must make at model, and founding itself upon the only just once our appeal to nature. And before this tri basis of all excellence-the propriety of Nature, bunal Miss O'Neill will come off as victoriously and the grace of Art. as Mrs. Siddons herself, though her triumph be
DRURY-LANE. of another sort. For notwithstanding in many A new piece, called Jean de Paris, was proparts she differs from Mrs. Siddons, yet in none duced at this theatre on Tuesday night, Nov. 2x can she be said to differ, either from the general | The plot is founded on one of those pleasing ficstandard of truth, as set up in ali minds, or from tions, which are light and agreeable enough to the artificial nature which the imagination of the please the imagination, without offending the Poet presents. In the first act, when she im-reason ; in which the ingredients are such as the plores Count Baldwin to receive herself and son, || fancy readily adopts, without waiting for judgher distress was that of a noble mind, pierced ment to examine. This species of composition with the sense of undeserved suffering, but will- | has been common upon all stages. It had much ing to abandon all its native pride and dignity | of reality in France, in the brilliant reign of at the summons.of maternal duty. Her affection || Henry IV, when chivalry refined the manners of for her child was seen to be the predominants the courtier, and dignified the pleasures of the feeling, and the whole scene was a display of monarch. We have a pleasing example of a fic. anxious, vivid, parental love, in its most natural | tion of this kind in the Florizel and Perdita of our and sensible tones.
own stage. The story is as follows:In the scene in which she reluctantly accepts Philip de l'alois, enamoured by report of the the hand of Villeroy, the melancholy yielding, Princess of Navarre, sets out on an excursion to the foreboding misery, were most admirably mark- || discover whether her beauties correspond to their ed; and here, above all, shone forth the charac- || fame. Disguised as a merchant, withi a large teristic quality of Miss O'Neill; we mean that train of attendants, he anticipates the Princess's propriety, that justness of conception, that soher arrival at one of her stations on the road, bribes ness, perspicacity, and taste, which discriminate the landlord into a surrender of the apartments, the least things, and give to each particular its and even the banquet intended for her, and astosuitable and proper importance. Her deport nishes the old Seneschal who comes to announce ment in this scene had a most bewitching mo her approach, by declaring that if her Highness desty, and was highly refined in the exterior | is to come at all, she must be indebted to his hosmanners. In the fourth act, where she receives | pitality. The Princess arrives, discovers the the ring, and has her first interview with Biron, || trick, agitates the merchant by declaring that her she rose to a tone of feeling and stretch of passion heart is already disposed of, delights him by inwbich electrified the audience, and which not voluntary admissions of his taste in providing for only roused a higher admiration, but drew forth her reception, beguiles him into panegyric on her its natural tribute of tears and sympathizing sen beanty, and only, after having exhausted all the timents. In the fifth act, in the dying scene, she ingenious tortures of a woman's spirit of teasing, was eqnally successful. The interest in her suf acknowledges that he is her “lord and lover.” ferings gradually ascended to the climax of her The play has the usual slight accompaniments of fate, and when she died, the house rose, as it were, an underplot, in which Miss Kelly displays her with one impulse of feeling, to testify their ap usual talents. probation of her performance.
This piece, which is a translation from the We do not hesitate therefore to say, that Miss French, has been brought out with great O'Neill's performance of Isabella, has not only taste, and the scenery and decorations are well eclipsed her Juliet and Belvidera, but has given bestowed. It is not, however, happy in the dia. us an example of excellence peculiar, singular, logue, which wants that smartness and simplicity and contradistingnished from any performance which are peculiar to French comedy. It was of the same character which we ever heheld. She extremely well performed. Elliston acted with
No. 64.-Vol. X.
great spirit, and was well supported by Mrs. | Mrs. Bartley's Lady Macbeth was highly and Edwin. The situations were truly comic, and justly applauded. The whole play was well supthe piece was highly applauded throughout. ported, and the scenes of witchcraft, and the sub
A new comedy called Policy, has been per lime horrors of the incantations, were admirably formed at this theatre. It has been ascribed te exhibited by the respective performers, and provarious authors; but it seems as yet unowned. duced with all their suitable equipage by the Its success on the first night was not very great; || Managers. it appeared rather to be tolerated than applaud. ed. The main deficiency of this comedy is its total want of life and manners. It has no fidelity LITERARY INTELLIGENCE. of painting, or truth in its characters or action.Girls, who give away the clothes off their backs
MARY; OR, THE HOLLANDERS. to a beggar in the streets, in a fit of charity, are
A Romance. By Louis Bonaparte. not natural beings; and uncles who conceal themselves from their relatives without any pro This work has already gone through two edibable cause, are still more out of nature. Some || tions, the first of which was published very lately points of humour, and some good dialogue, occa in Paris. It abounds in chaste and elegant lansionally occur; but they are not sufficient to guage, as well as purity of sentiment and ex. compensate the want of that truth and propriety pression. The history is interesting; of which which are always required, to a certain extent, the following short sketch may give a proof. in every dramatic fiction.
Julian, the hero of the romance, is enamoured On Saturday night, Nov. 5, Mr. Kean made of his cousin Mary. This young lady has been his first appearance in the character of Macbeth, || brought up by a sister of Julian's, named Her. which the Managers have brought out with a macintha, one of the most virtuous, but at the profusion of magnificence, and a propriety of same time the most pedantic of women. The decoration and pomp bighly creditable to their lovers are about to be united, when Julian is taste and liberality. Our stage seems, indeed, obliged, on important business, to take a voyage to have reached its bighest point of retinenent, to France. The scene is at the time wben the and we much question whether Rome, in all her French Republic declared war against Holland; luxury, and Greece, in all her elegance, could and Julian, though a Hollander, finds himself rival a British theatre.
subject to the law of requisition, is enlisted for a This new attempt of Kean drew together, at an soldier, and sent to the Army of the Alps. On early hour, an overflowing house. Every part, hearing this, Hermacintha and Mary set off for even to the lobbies, of this spacious theatre, was Paris, in order to obtain, at least, an officer's filled. The first entrance of Kean was greeted commission for their kinsman. In his first enwith rapture, and attention seemed to wait upon gagement, Julian is taken prisoner, after baving bim with breathless expectation. His perform. || been wonded, and it is reported that he died in ance was fully equal to the finest exertions of his Polish Austria, from his wounds. The particugenius, and is upon a level with his Richard. Jars of his death are sent to a friend, but they are
His conception was not only just, but, in many not related hy the author. The grief of Mary is parts, original and new; adding, as it were, inconsolable ; however, other sorrows are yet in new discrimination and force to the character,
store for her. A decree is issued, which comand finishing to a more perfect point the brillian: mands“ all young ladies and widows to chuse a conception of the poet; and, above all, what we husband in six days, either amongst the military, have most to applaud in Kean's Macbeth, is the or amongst the people, under pain of being comsubordination of art to nature the keeping out pelled so to do.” This odious law is proclaimed of sight mere technical skill, and giving the force luder the windows of Mary's dwelling; and she and energy of truth to the passion and feeling of || is, moreover, threatened “ to be looked upon as
In the soliloquy in the second act he was an English woman, and punished as such, if she eminently happy. It never was delivered with opposes herself against this ordinance.” But the so much effect.
Duke D'Ast, ber relation and protector in France, Of the scene in which he murders Duncan we has conceived for her a violent passion. He bege feel unable to convey any adequate idea, by criti. she will accept his hand, and thus preserve her. cal exposition: to be valued and felt it must be self froin being treated as an Englishwoman. The
the Banquet scene he was not quite so same decree obliges all the young nobility to successful. He wanted dignity, and somewhat enter the service; in consequence the Duke is of the courtesy of a monarch; but his address to an officer, and the decree is in his favour. The the Ghost of Banquo was in his best style...Upon heroine consents to this marriage, not to save a the whole, Kean's Macbeth is a performance | life, which is become indifferent to her, but on which not only does honour to himself, but which the promise of the Duke to embark with her imwill, in conjunction with his Richard and Othello, mediately to Guiana, to where Hermacintha is form a most distinguished era in the annals of condemned to be banished. The marriage takes the British stage.
place; but in the moment that the new married