warm enthusiasm in behalf of the art than the English. It cannot be denied that progress is discoverable among the Germans, a stagnation with the French, and a decline with the English, which seems to threaten the total destruction of the scenic art, unless the present system of insipidity is superseded by more rational amusements. I shall conclude these general observations with a few remarks on Mr. Kemble and Mr. Cooke. of the world; but this look, from which an ardent fancy emanates, softens the point of the chin, and the closeness of the mouth. His voice is pleasing, but feeble; of small compass, but extreme depth. This is, as has been previously observed, the greatest natural impediment with which he, to whom nature has been thus bountiful, has still to contend. Cooke does not possess the elegant figure of Kemble; but his countenance. beams with great expression. The most prominent features in the physiognomy of Cooke are a long and somewhat hooked nose, a pair of fiery and expressive eyes, a lofty and somewhat broad front, and the lines of his muscles which move the lips are pointedly marked. His countenance is certainly not so dignified as that of Kemble, but it discovers greater passion; and few actors are, perhaps, capable of delineating in more glowing colours the storm of a violent passion than Cooke. His voice is powerful, and of great compass, a pre-eminence which he possesses over Kemble, of which he skil fully avails himself. His exterior movements are by far inferior in the picturesque to those of Kemble. Kemble is the favourite, nay, the idol of the public at London; few, very few, venture to proclaim his partial inferiority to Cooke: such an assertion would be even hazardous in the company of the Ladies, who, upon all occasions, espouse the cause of Kemble with warmth. Kemble has a very graceful manly figure, is perfectly well made, and his naturally commanding stature appears extremely dignified in every picturesque position, which he studies most assiduously. His face is one of the noblest I ever saw on any stage, being a fine oval, exhibiting a handsome Roman nose, a well-formed and closed mouth: his fiery and somewhat romantic eyes retreat, as it were, and are shadowed by bushy eyebrows: his front is open and little vaulted; his chin prominent and rather pointed; and his features so softly interwoven that no deeply-marked line is perceptible. His physiognomy, indeed, com- [With an Engraving, elegantly mands at first sight; since it denotes, in the most expressive manner, a man of refined senti ment, enlightened mind, and correct judgment. Without the romantic look in his eyes the face of Kemble would be that of a well-bred, cold, and selfish man VOL. XXXVIII. FASHIONABLE WALKING AND coloured. 1. A short round dress, the body made as a frock, with long sleeves; the bottom worked or scolloped. An autumnal brown wrap-cloak, with sleeves made of rich twilled sarcenet, without lining: a pilgrim 4 A hat of the same, edged with narrow white fur. Shoes or half-boots, and gloves. 2. A long train-dress of soft spotted India muslin, the back made full, and tied with bows of white riband: the front and sleeves richly worked to correspond, and trimmed with a very fine Vandyke lace. The hair dressed in bands round the head, and fastened with small gilt combs: a long crimson silk scarf fringed at the ends. Kid shoes and gloves. PARISIAN FASHIONS. THE shawls which were worn on the hand, or on the arms, are now extended over the shoulders. Some small coloured fichus have again made their appearance: they are in general blue with spots: linen dresses of an amaranthine ground are again in vogue, but the spots are smaller. Green is a colour much in request. There are many capotes of plain green taffeta; and some likewise of white taffeta with a small green comete, sometimes accompanied with a torsade. The new hats are of white straw, trimmed with white ribands, and with white folettes for full dress; coloured ribands and suitable folettes, for half-dress, and Scotch ribands for undress. Many ladies in full-dress wear a veil, which they raise in front, and suffer to fall down equally on each side. The ladies have had, till within a very short time, with the exception of a few taffeta robes, chiefly worn only white muslin. They now begin to assume striped muslin robes of different colours; more particularly rose-coloured and white, blue and white, lazule and white, and hazel and white. Feathers are still seen, and straw-coloured hats with ribands are also worn: but green capotes, and white cometes; or blue barbeau, and cometes of a light yellow or deep gold colour, are most fashionable. Many small cap-like bonnets are made: some of them with ribands of two colours; and others with riband and lace, having either a wreath of roses in front, or two branches of flowers, one inclined towards the front, and the other falling or dropping behind. The caps for full-dress have two large feathers, or several small ones; but the most fashionable are those with two large feathers falling down on the cheek. The hats are mostly tied under the chin with a small ficher; or, rather, with a little barbe, which forms a point, and is ornamented with lace. The ornamental roches of gauze are made so as to be adapted to different robes. Not long since fashion proscribed great-coats even in the morning; at present, when undress has obtained the ascendency, they are worn even in the evening. It is true they are modern-fashioned great coats, so singularly made that they seem to combine every kind of dress; and when thus habited, a young man, in the eyes of many an observer, may seem only to wear a decent and ample habit like that of his father's; while to his mistress he shall appear to be in a most amiable and gallant undress. To the EDITOR of the LADY'S MAGAZINE *. SIR, AS the compositions inserted in a magazine are chiefly the first productions of youthful genius, we seldom look for unblemished excellence; but we, at least, expect something which shall not fall too far beneath mediocrity. The attentions, Sir, which I have received from you have been numerous and gratifying, I therefore hope that you will not think the following observations, because severe, are ungrateful: for I assure you it is my sincere regard for the reputation of your long-established and respectable magazine which induces me to make them; and as I would scorn to condemn a man without giving him an opportunity of defending himself, I beg you will insert this communication in your next number. The objects of my criticism, though they scarcely deserve the trouble, are those motley and ridiculous effusions intituled Walks,' by Messrs. John Webb, J. M. L. S. Y. &c. But before I proceed I must observe that it is not out of disrespect to these gentlemen that I assume the disagreeable office, as I think their other compositions do them credit; neither, Sir, can you be offended, as I do not attach any blame to you for their insertion, for I am conscious it arises from the condescension Impartiality to our correspondents has induced us to insert this letter, though the strictures contained in it certainly appear to be somewhat too strict; especially with respect to such ingenious writers as Mr. J. Webb, and J. M. L. and politeness which have ever characterised you as the conduc tor of the Lady's Magazine. I do it because I am sorry to see ingenuity perverted, and without further preface, or taking each piece in regular order, I shall proceed. Who, then, can with patience, or even without strong disgust, read such stuff as the following? a In Mr. J. M. L's night-walk for July, amongst other equally interesting matter, he informs us that he remained gazing at the black clouds till he was caught in a heavy shower of rain (which by the bye was a very silly trick, Mr. J. M. L. indeed); he next informs us that he got completely soaked through,' which was certainly very probable after he had been walking in a heavy shower of rain; and he concludes by saying that for fear of taking cold,' he drank • small glass of brandy,' and changed every article of his dress ! ! ! a very natural, and very wise precaution upon my word; hut what, in the name of common sense, has the public to do with this? Or how can they be interested by the relation of such a trite and everyday occurrence? I shall not take up the time of your readers by any more extracts from this writer of walks, but shall conclude by advising him, as a friend, to em ploy the ingenuity, which he certainly possesses, in a manner more likely to add to his reputation. In your number for August, by some extraordinary means, a piece has obtained insertion, called 'The Stroller, by D. Y.' the nonsense of which is only exceeded by its extreme vulgarity. I would recommend this gentleman, if he intends to favour you with his further communications, to leave out such wretched stuff as he will find by referring to the thirty-seventh line of that most wretched piece; it is such language as could only be tolerated in a company of Billinsgate fish-wives. 6 In your last number Mr. S. Y. gives us a morning-walk in Autumn,' in which, after some pretty talk about the rising sun, and flocks of sheep, a clear morning, the trunk of an old tree, the appearance of a beautiful female rustic,' and other original descriptive language, he tells us he rather impertinently' bid her good morning astonishing! and that he asked her where she was going; when she informned him that she was going a nutting, and at his request allowed him to accompany her (amiable condescension! Beautiful description! Happy, happy fellow!). He then gives us something about Venus and Adonis, and Idalian groves; and at length he tells us he was going to steal a kiss; (Oh fie! Mr. S. Y.-Shocking, shocking!) but he eases our feelings by informing us in an apostrophe, beautifully tender, that the thought of his prevented him (thrice happy maid, to possess so constant a lover! He is absolutely a modern Joseph!) But enough of such triffing; I sincerely hope he will see his error, and improve. The Solitary Walks' of Mr. J. Webb are little superior, and I would advise him to commit them to a solitary corner of his port-folio, till he can clothe them in more spirited diction. It is the quotations alone which (being sometimes made from our best authors) render these things tolerable. I cannot conclude without ob serving that the Harvest Evening of W. H. and the love-correspondence of S. Y. and Mr. John Webb, must be equally uninteresting to your fair readers: for when common-place incidents are introduced they should certainly be related in elegant and forcible language to make them at all agreeable. And now, Sir, after all this censure, I must proceed to praise. That part of the work which falls immediately under your own department, namely the selections from new and scarce books, has, I assure you, given me the greatest pleasure: it does equal honour to your taste and judgment, and I wish sincerely to see it extended. With many of the original pieces I have also been much gratified. I cannot ensure the insertion of this letter; but I hope the gen◄ tlemen mentioned in it will view my motives in their proper light, and as they cannot then be offended, and as they have also the liberty of justifying themselves, I shall expect to see it in your number for the present month. the Property Tax Act,' (octavo edition) printed by his majesty's law-printers, on a type that has THE FATAL CONSEQUENCES been in wear at least half a century, or to use a typo-technical term, on ball-nails,' with candles before you manufactured principally of that delicious ingredient kitchen-stuff; which, as you hold the book up to them for information, vent their saline particles at your eyes, regaling, at the same instant, your olfactory nerves by their odoriferous effluvia; the servant, too, having neglected to place the stuffers on the table: OF DISSIPATED HABITS. I AM the youngest son of an earl, and was intended for the army, but the will of a partial grandmother made me independent, by bequeathing to me an estate, which, with the accumulated interest of ten years minority, put me in possession, at the age of twenty-one, of an income of two thousand pounds per annum. My father died in my infancy, and left me to the care of an indulgent mother who could not support the idea of my entering into the army. She had lost one brother and a nephew in the American war, and she was determined that the life of her only son should not be endangered by a profession which had proved so fatal to her family. You are not to imagine, however, that the countess was one of those weak mothers who indulge their parental fondness in spoiling their children by a neglect of their education. SQUIB SECUNDUS. She submitted to the direction of Mr. Testy. Of whom were these infernal mutton-lights bought? Mrs. Testy. Of our neighbour EUSEBIUS Smy dear! Testy Junior. Ha! ha! ha! You-see-by-us! That would make a devilish good motto for the Worshipful Company of Tallow-chandlers; but neighbour Eusebius can never expect to set up for a shining meinber of that Community, while he furnishes so dull an article of sale. Sept. 22d. 1807. To the EDITOR of the LADY'S SIR, THE following narrative is supposed to be written by a husband who had unfortunately made a too precipitate choice, and was afterwards too timid and indulgent to be able to stem the torrent of destruction, into which the follies of a thoughtless votary of fashion had necessarily involved him. Your insertion of it in your agreeable Miscellany will much oblige an OCCASIONAL CORRESPONDENT. The name of an eminent tallow chandler well known in Westminster. a respectable uncle so important a charge, and I passed my first years at Eton school, from whence I removed to Oxford, where I remained till it was judged proper that I should make the grand tour. At the expiration of the third year of my travels I returned to England, to celebrate my one-andtwentieth birth-day, and to take possession of my little fortune. My mother received me with rapture; but I was grieved to observe that sickness, during my absence, had impaired her constitution, which, being naturally delicate, had yielded to a gradual decay that threatened approaching dissolution. |