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glaring, and its intricacies so numerous. We shall content ourselves with offering hastily a few observations exactly as they struck us during the performance.

The Cherokee is not merely a vehicle for the music there is an interest in the story, which is not unhappily preserved throughout-considering the sacrifices that must be made to the Composer, no little ingenuity is requisite to carry on any plot at all. To carry it on with effect, is a difficulty surmountable but by a few. The misfortune of an author is, tbat he cannot vary his style. The pieces of Cobb are all improved imitations of his first production-the same situations--the same language-the same puns, and the same colouring. This is the defect of Colman, and in a lesser degree of Reynolds. In a different sense, it is also the defect of Storace.

The character of the revengeful Cherokee is very boldly conceived, and the sentiments are suitable to the character. The generous disposition of another Chief is judiciously contrasted, and serves to heighten the colouring of Malooko.

Young Average is not an original. We recollect him in numberless instances.-Mr. Cobb’s official character has supplied him with the cant of the Custom-house and the City Merchants—this is not badly displayed in Average, who carries the terms of business along with him, however situated or affected ---the neatest point is about selling out in the song on matrimony.

Suett is a Quaker in babit only ; he might be any other character as well; there is something entertaining enough in his being perpetually interrupted in the disclosure of his passion to Fanny.

The Music, which is both original and compiled, is exceedingly fine on the whole; the finale of the second act is, out and out, the grandest composition we ever heard; some of the bars are too similar to what we have before heard in the Pirates, &c. which is indeed an objection that may be made to several of the songs, particularly one of Storace's, which is almost exactly the air of Bianchi, given to Lovers that listen, &c."

Mrs. Bland has a beautiful little ballad, which will assuredly be very popular; and Sedgwick an air in the first act, that deserves to be so-" Power unknown.'

Kelly sung with infinite taste and precision, and directed the semi-chorusses, &c. in a very masterly manner; the aria in the cave was, in our opinion, the best; there was no bravura worthy his talents.

The acting of Barrymore in the Cherokee was as fine as could be ; and Mrs. Crouch never performed with so much spirit and energy during our remembrance. There is no better declamation on the stage than her concluding address from the cavern ; no elocution could be more irresistible.

The Opera was abundantly applauded; and will, no doubt, have a very successful time.

The dresses of the Indians are as exact as possible ; and the liberality of the Manager is in every respect conspicuous.

26. MAGO AND Dago, or HARLEQUIN THE HERO, a new Pantomime, was presented the first time at Covent Garden Theatre, composed, prepared, and directed by Mr. Lonsdale. The Dances are by Mr. Byrn. The subject is taken from Romance, and is as follows: Harlequin, being enamoured of the young mountain shepherdess Columbine, is, by the spells of Dago, a revengeful and odious rival, confined in the hollow of a rifted oak, where he is discovered by the good magician Mago, released, and presented with a magic sword, which has a new property of changing colour at the approach of danger: under this powerful protection he openly defies the guilty plots of Dago. After many un. heard-of rencontres, pursuits, and escapes, Harlequin at length triumphs over his opponent, who then repenting of his evil projects, is restored to the friendship of his brother; and, thus reconciled, Mago and Dago join in rewarding the good and virtuous.

The Vocal Characters are by Messrs. Bernard, Gray, Street, Linton, and Mrs. Martyr.

Harlequin Mr. Byrn, Clown Mr. Follett, Dago Mr. Farley, Mago Mr. Ri. chardson, Father to Columbine Mr. Hawtin, Zanny Mr. Simmons, and Cou lumbine Madame Rossi.

The Music is partly composed new by Mr. Shield ; the rest selected by Mr. T. Goodwin, from the works of Haydn, Dr. Aylward, Baumgarten, Bocche rini, Pleyel, Gluck, Reeve, Arne, Ware, Letser, jun. and Spofforth.

On the whole, there is more new business than we have seen in any Pantomime for some years; the tricks are very numerous and ingenious; and the whole is managed with extraordinary effect. The difficulty of contriving a new deception for a pantomime is now nearly as great as inventing a situation for a Drama; preceding Mechanists have forestalled almost every idea of this sort, and origina! Pantomime is consequently not so easy to produce as may be generally imagined. No pains or expence have been spared in the preparation, and the manager will no doubt be amply repaid for his liberality.

The Jumping Scene is extremely well executed. It is by far the best in the Pantomime. The Crystal Rock at the conclusion is very brilliant: the principle is perfectly new, and the effect is as grand as the Temple of Glory in Faustus.

Jan. 2, 1795.-At Covent-garden Theatre, Mr. Haymes, from the Bath Theatre, made his first appearance as Farmer Giles, in the Maid of the Mill.The public may recollect this gentleman some seasons back at Drury-lane, where he performed Belcour. · He will find at this House a more permanent situation; his merits are very considerable, and his talents by no means confined, As a singer, he vill a vays be a favourite with such as can relish a good English song, unaduiterated with the fasnionable intricacies of the foreign school. He has few artific al accompliments, but he has what is better, a natural mel lowness of tone, which suits happily that sort of strain and cadence an audience in the general approve, His acting was perfectly chaste and natural, with no mixture of buffoonery or grimace, so usual with provincial actors on their introduction in town. The audience were highly gratified with his performance, and the applause was in consequence abundant.

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Name: Hap---py, long happy may he be, Who loves and honours

Masonry. With a fa, la, la, la,

la, With a fa, la, la, la.

YE British fair, for beauty fam’d,

Your slaves we wish to be ;
Let none for charms like your's be nam'd,

That loves not Masonry.
This maxim has been prov'd full well,
That Masons never kiss and tell,

With a fa, la, &c.
Freemasons, no offences give,

Let Fame your worth declare ;
Within your compass wisely live,

And act upon the square.
May Peace and Friendship e'er abound,
And ev'ry Mason's health go round.

With a fa, la, &c.

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY'S EPITAPH.

E

NGLAND, the Netherlands, the Heav'ns, the Arts,

The Soldiers and the World, hath lost six parts
Of noble Sydney; for who will suppose
That a small heap of stones can him enclose ;
England hath lost his body ; she it fed ;
Netherlands his blood; for her sake 'twas shed:
The Heav'ns have his soul; the Arts his great fame;
The Soldiers his grief; the World his good name.

M.

PROLOGUE TO THE PLAY OF

KNOW YOUR OWN MIND, Spoken by Mr. SUTHERLAND, in Mason's Cloathing, at Dundee THEATRE,

in October 1788.

Written by J. R. LAMY, Esq. A Member of St. David's Lodge, Dundee, No. 97 of the GRAND LODGE

OF SCOTLAND.

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(USIC be hush !-let Catgut cease to trill,

I come to speak a Prologue, if ye will.
To close the day, Sol sinks into the West,
And the pale Moon proclaims the hours of rest:
Now Silence reigns ! and Nature from her treasure
Pours forth to Mortals ev'ry lib'ral pleasure.
Those badges of an Antient Art I wear,
Which

grace the Prince, and dignify the Peer.
The Sister Lodges bade me kindly say,
They love the Drama-and they've chose the Play,
KNOW YOUR OWN MIND, it is no common thing;
Some fickle Minds are ever on the wing.
When sprightly Fancy once begins to roam,
She little thinks of any thing at home ;
Such wand'ring Minds in ev'ry place are known,
Wbo know YOUR MINDs much better than their Own.
This is no Secret, tho' we've Secrets too,
Secrets as yet unknown to some of you:
Without the aid of Devils, Spells, or CHARMS,
The Coquet Fair-One drops into our arms.
Honour and Virtue all our actions guide,
We woo the Virgin, and we kiss the Bride ;
But never blab--for blabbing is forbidden,
Under The CLOATHING, the grand secret's bidden.
I have a mind one Secret to disclose,
(Come forth sweet Secret from the blushing Rose)
The Tale unfolded, to the World discovers,
That we FREEMASONS are no luke-warm lovers ;
Sly, leering looks, and soft, and tender presses,
Are Signs and GRIPS,--no other man possesses ;
And when a BROTHER tries the Maid to move,
He wbispers PHYLLIS, that THE WORD is Love.

EPIGRAM.
ED SOAKER lay stretch'd on the bed of grim Death,

A friend, with much fervour, advised him to think
On his awful approach to Eternity's brink!
Cries Ned, “ For such matters I duly have car’d,
“ And am well for a World of good Spirits prepar'd.”

A

mouic

זין

LINES TO THOMSON,
THE IMMORTAL POET OF THE SEASONS.

Τ Ρ.
PILGRI

Is
Belov'd

wail! .

wontent's untroubled way. For Wii ihat Nature's various works can charm,

Whose spirit drinks the breeze or sunny beam; Joys in the landscape, boundless, bright, and warm,

Or Cynthia's rays, where trembling kiss the stream: Whose bosom to the sky-lark's chearful note

Responsive beats, and when night's shade prevail, With pity swells, as her sad songstress throat

Pours its soft plaint along the dusky vale : Whose hunger yields well pleas'd to humblest fare,

And thirst by earth's pure bev'rage is controll’d; Would envy joys so intermix'd with care,

As those which guilt too highly rents of gold ? And who, once having seen thy polish'd page,

Where Fancy, Reason, Virtue, are combin'd With Nature, ease and elegance t'engage,

Delight, improve, and elevate the mind, Would hesitate his ling'ring heart to tear

From tinsel state, which vice and folly love, To breathe with thee of downs the healthful air,

Or musing wander thro' the mazy grove? If the world's pomp and pleasure I forego,

If I enjoy, tho' poor, a state like this, To thee, O Thomson, bard divine! I owe

Th’extensive pleasure and the mighty bliss !
Thy fame the wreck of nature shall survive,

Whose lovely progeny around the wave
Of Father Thames, with endless verdure strive

To grace the town which owns her Poet's grave,
The pilgrim's trinket on our lady's vest,

Suspended peers around with feeble glare, 'Mid glitt'ring gems and gold, which well attest

The patron's merit, and the vot’ry's care. Though small the boon he on the shrine bestow,

'Twas given freely from a heart sincere ; So I, my rev’rence for the dead to show,

'Tis all I have, these Lines alone can bear.

NA

EPIGRAM.
COL MARTEXT, who never the pulpit could grace,

As he warp'd every accent quite out of its place; Stead of “ Hebrews the Tenth and Twelfth,” right announcing! “ He Brews Ten and Twelve" was liis mode of pronouncing! " He Brews Ten and Twelve," then repeating once more, An old drowsy toper, whose nap was just o'er, Rubb'd his eyes, and roar'd out, “ Ten and Twelve, Master Vicar?" Two or three bushels more, and he'd Brew humming liquor!

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