eyes. This stricture is due to talent itself, which should not be permitted to choak itself up with the briars of its own luxuriance. Whatever may be the scope, or the vanity of genius, true it is, the higher attainments of the stage, are the rewards only of severe industry and patient endeavour. If Mr. Whitlock would become eminent, he must consent to be instructed. He should beware,

....................lest some impulse accursed

Make him seize the wrong end of his duty first;
And in vain seek for fame, by a traverse conceit,

Like the Turk, who crawls into his bed at the feet."

In "Milwood" Mrs. Barrett acquired great reputation, for soundness of judgment and strength of talent. Of this character the passions are violent, as the regrets of love, and the anathemas of vengeance, yet opposite, as the zephyr whispering to the violet, and the whirlwind uprooting the oak. Her best scene suffered something in effect from the strumming 66 notes of preparation" sounded from the orchestra. This gross errour should be corrected; for the last scene of many an act has been mutilated by such voluntary cadences and syncopations of Catgut,

“Whose squeaks are as dissonant, grating and harsh,

As a file rasping knots, or lewd frogs in a marsh."

It is neither our purpose, nor our pleasure, to deal out to the publick a tissue of panegyrick, but to subtract the record of fame, where the lovely individual stands registered in excellence is a ranker offence, than to leave "unannointed” a

whole tribe of demerit, "with all its imperfections on its head."

Mrs. Jones, whose very self is melody, and whose sweet ballads in "Margaretta" could not derive a more touching charm, even from the lyre of Sappho, has preferred large claims on the publick admiration, in a great variety of character, where the comick spirit, unaided by vocal fascination, is left to exhibit its own powers in scenes of difficult interest and execution. Her "Donna Clara" is one of the happiest of these specimens; and we trust the repetition of the farce, in which Mr. Bernard and Mrs. Jones so eminently excel, will, on any night, increase the attraction of the theatre.

This evening "The Voice of Nature" is again called for by the voice of the publick; annexed to it is the Opera of the "Highland Reel," supported, perhaps, by the strongest cast of characters, which have ever assisted its representation in any part of America. Mr. Bernard is the "Shelty," and Mrs. Jones the "Moggy" of the evening. Surely the publick has an appetite for the luxuries of the scene, after all the refinements of an opposition. Else, they will never know " a hawk from a handsaw."

THE dramatick persons in the comedy of "John Bull" require an extensive range of talent. There are but few plays, which cannot be represented with a more limited variety of powers; and the great and merited success of this piece, is no profitless tribute of thanks to our "lucky manager" for that diversity and strength of scenick ability, with which he has embellished and enriched the publick amusement. The best author's most favourite production may perish by stage suffocation, or tottle to death in a rickety representation. What is wit without its conductor? Its flashes exhaust by excursion that fire, which direction would have vivified. Hence it is, the characters of most modern comedies are moulded for the actors, who are intended to personate them. American theatres have many performers of eminence, but it frequently happens, that their force is not so embodied, to sustain the weight of a popular English drama. The play may shoot vigorously in London, but will not take root here, and dies by transplantation. Such, however, has not been the fate of "John Bull;" though it is certainly a comedy, which demands the more arduous and and multiform efforts of the scene. The representation of this play, with an individual exception, would honour any theatre. The design of it, is to exhibit one of the most prominent features of the English character; the proud, robust honesty, and strong moral sensibility of the middle.

class of society. "Job Thornberry" is an English tradesman, of such principles and such feelings. Impatient in honour, as a peer; yet assiduous in his occupation, as the humblest citizen. His character and his fortune have been the fruits of thirty years of equal benevolence and industry. Wealth and reputation have grown up along with him. He has an only child, a daughter. Job Thornberry is the very best of fathers. Mary has too much simplicity for so much loveliness. She is the victim of an illicit attachment. Job has a friend, who is in distress; and with a nobleness of heart advances, for his relief, the whole earnings of his life. His friend absconds with the money; and Job awakes on the morning, when the play opens, to find his house filled with bailiffs, and deserted by his daughter. Shame and the fear of a parentald iscovery of her indiscretion have driven her, unconscious of her father's misfortune, to an inhospitable and almost desert heath. But the parent nest is scarcely cold, before the little wanderer is restored to it. Many touching incidents, chaste, impressive sentiments, and festive ebullitions, crowd the action of the play. Its combinations of interest are so dexterously interwoven, that the audience is wound in with the tissue, before it perceives the charm, by which it has been snared. The fable finally restores Job to opulence, and gives to the grief-worn affections of Mary the honourable seal of wedded love.

Such was "John Bull;" and he was ably presented by Mr. Dickenson. It has long been our intention to notice this actor in a style of commendation, due to his rare talent, highly improved and polished as it is, by indefatigable attention, and

ment.

aided by the discrimination of a sound judgment, and the quick impulse of a strong, natural sensibility. Four years since, he ranked among the obscurest comedians of our stage. Opportunity had never indulged his genius with an experiment of its energies. He was silent and unknown. Soon after a poverty of talent in the theatre compelled Mr. Dickenson into the character of "Sir Oliver Oldstick," in "He would be a Soldier;" and his great success, though generally acknowledged, excited an applause, not unmixed with astonishFame now opened her course to him; her goal was in view; he has ever since been mending his speed; and, if the race is to be won by sound bottom, good mettle, whip and spur, we shall soon behold this favourite actor, the growth of our own town, in possession of the stake. His cast of character is commonly that of Parsons and Suett; but he occasionally deviates into the precinct of Munden, and returns with fresh laurels. His "Old Rapid," "Sir Robert Ramble," and "Nicolas," in "Secrets Worth Knowing," are among his best assumptions. In "Job Thornberry," for the two first nights, he appeared diffident of the task he had undertaken; but discovered all the great outlines of the character. On the third and fourth nights, his confidence was strengthened by applause, and his merit by consciousness. The honest petulance of his anger is one of his best traits. In his scenes with Mary, he feels, if possible, too much, to give effect to his conception.

Of Mr. Bernard, in "Dennis Brulgruddery," we shall give no sketch. The reader must see him. In this walk of Hiber