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repentant criminal had been left to his hapless fate, in a society where it required all the support of a Governor-in-chief to give him a status in that society, and maintain him in it. Yet this Christian-like conduct was one of the few errors that were imputed to General Macquarie in the discharge of his duty as governor of the colony.

Having been superseded by Major-General Sir Thomas Brisbane, General Macquarie returned to England in 1822, and retired for a short time to his estate in the island of Mull. While in India, he married a Miss Jarvis, sister of LieutenantColonel Jarvis, now of Dover in Kent. But this lady did not live to accompany him to England, and left no issue; and in the beginning of 1809 he was married a second time to Miss Campbell, daughter of Donald Campbell, Esq. of Aird, and sister to the present Sir John Campbell of Ardnamurchan, Baronet. By this lady, who survives him, he has left one son, Lauchlan, who was born in Australia, and is now about nine years of age. Having served for upwards of fortyseven years, General Macquarie a few days before his death, was advised, under the new regulation, to sell his lieutenant-colonelcy. During the winter of 1822-3, he travelled on the Continent for the benefit of Mrs. Macquarie's health; but in the autumn of last year he retired once more to his estate in Mull, where, as he states in a letter addressed to the writer of this short memoir, he intended to rusticate for a few years, until his son was prepared to enter Eton College.

But alas! how vain are the determinations of man.- In April last General Macquarie came up to town, with the view of getting his colonial accounts finally settled, and to ascertain the determination of Ministers in regard to the remuneration to which he had become entitled by his long and faithful services as Governor of New South Wales. His accounts, being regularly and correctly kept, were soon brought to a close; and his merit so fully allowed, that a pension for life, of a, thousand a year, was granted him; and as he

states in a note from Duke-street in the end of June last, his cares were now at an end. In four short days from the date of that note they were indeed at an end for ever. Dining at a friend's house about the beginning of June, he was unable to procure a hackney coach, and as the rain had nearly ceased, he ventured to walk home to his lodgings. He was immediately seized with a suppression of urine, which in the end baf fled the skill of the most eminent of the profession to remove or alleviate, and on the 1st July he breathed his last. Mrs. Macquarie, impressed with some im pending misfortune, and from information from a faithful black servant that had been many years the attendant of the General, fortunately left Mull to join her husband in London, and arrived a few days before his death, so that she had the consolation, though a melancholy one, of witnessing the last moments of him whose loss is irreparable, but who died as he had lived, a hero and a Christian. General Macquarie was ever more desirous of a good name than of riches; he returned to England in 1822, a much poorer man than he had left it in 1809. He did not live to enjoy his pension a single day, so that the regulated price of a Lieutenant-Colonelcy of Infantry was all that he received for a faithful service of nearly half a century. We have little doubt, however, that when his merits become fully known to his Majesty, and are fairly appreciated by his country, as one day they must be, that some permanent mark of Royal favour will be granted to his orphan son. And upon whom could a baronetcy be more worthily bestowed than upon the son and only descendant of such a man? General Macquarie has left one brother, a distinguished officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Macquarie, who retired from the service a few years ago on account of bad health, and is now resident upon his property in his native isle. The General's remains were sent down to Scotland for interment, and have been deposited in the family vault of the Macquaries, at Iona. Aug. 9, 1824.

A. H.

THE DRAMA.

THE ENGLISH OPERA-HOUSE.

Jonathan in England.

MR. MATHEWs has at length, with the courage of a traveller who has resolved never to revisit the country of which he speaks,-given a loose to his humour about the Americans; and we are no longer taught by him to believe that on the other side of the Atlantic, all is constancy, generosity, and hospitality. Either our inimitable actor in his original sketch meditated a second trip to the Land of Liberty, and was therefore tender in touching too roughly on the frailties of his friends, or else he was under the restraint of some American intimate or visitor, whose national prejudices were to be consulted, and whose home feelings were to be studied. Very certain it is that Mr. Mathews was upon his best behaviour in the first narration of his adventures in Boston and New York; and we English, old and new, were repeatedly admonished to love each other, and to cherish mutual kindnesses, as though the actor were fearful, lest he should by some unhappy slip of the tongue set the two countries together by the ears. The time, however, has now arrived when Mr. Mathews is" a pretty damned deal" less particular about the nice feelings of the Yankees. And whether it is that he has abandoned all intention of again crossing the Atlantic, or whether he has lost the quelling spirit that sat nightmaring his humour,-is of little consequence to an English audience; -the change is thoroughly for the better-and Jonathan in England is as unvarnished a caricature of the impudence, stubbornness, and freedom of a Yankee, as a lover of the ridiculous would desire to see.

The idea of this little farce is well conceived, and does great credit to the ingenuity of the inventor. Jona than W. Doubikins, our old friend with the straw hat, fowling piece, and snuff-coloured surtout, arrives in England with a letter of intro duction from his uncle Ben,-dear uncle Ben,-every body's uncle Ben! He reaches Liverpool with his Nigger

Agamemnon, and the first act passes at the Waterloo Hotel from which he is ejected, and at a little inn on the outskirts of the town where he sleeps for the night. At the latter place a good night scene is contrived, where a pair of long and short ostlers in meagre trim, sneak in to rob the pantry through a pannel in the Yankee's room. One of the ostlers, meagre, miserable, and poor, is about to go to London to better himself-and has a letter to an alderman, recommending the bearer as a postilion,-which by mistake he changes for Jonathan's letter of introduction to the same person. The second act brings Jonathan W. to London, and ushers him, with his post-boy character, before Sir Leatherlip Grossfeeder :— of course, the ostler also appears with his American letter of introduction, and the blunders and pleasantries which arise from these mixed letters are excessively humorous. The character of the alderman is written with a pen dipped in mock turtle!

The dialogue and the incidents are broad, and much is left to the actor to fill up ;-but as Mathews has been measured with a nice hand his American character fits him admirably. All the follies of all the odd characters throughout America, appear to be huddled together in this one part, and the jumble is therefore considerably more humorous than natural. Perhaps the happiest scene is that in which Jonathan discourses upon liberty in the kitchen with the political butler,-seasoning his remarks with the offer of his Nigger for sale.

All the performers played with good-will, and good sense and spirit, from Mr. Tayleure down to Mrs. Grove. Keeley is too slow, but he is truly natural. Mr. Sloman played Agamemnon with a genuine humour

and Bartley, as the Alderman, was as hearty as good living and swanhopping could make him. His sketch of a river excursion to Richmond was most happily conceived and exe cuted.

This little picce is, we understand,

from the hands of Mr. Peake, who, without doubt, is the cleverest writer to order, of any dramatist of the day. He can, if he pleases, make an actor; and the less activity there is in the object he selects to work upon, the more he achieves. He built up Wilkinson out of some very raw materials,—and it has also pleased his authorship to erect Mr. Keeley into something like an acting shape. We only wish Mr. Peake would patronize a few other sleepwalkers; he would do an incalculable service to the thea

tres.

THE BASHFUL MAN.

This is a very clever dramatic sketch, for it is no more; and all our readers who remember the story in Cumberland's Observer, will recognize the original on which this piece is founded. Mr. Moncrieff is the author, and he is fortunate enough to have once more hit the town a masterly blow; having with his Tom and Jerry, Giovanni in London, Monsieur Tonson, and other pieces, succeeded in planting some tolerably hard hits heretofore. Mathews plays the Bashful Man, and though the part is not suited to him, and other performers might be found who would make more of it, still he exhibits a very ludicrons picture of the miseries of a constitutionally timid

man.

His bow is nervous and gentlemanly, but he is only near sighted at intervals. Elliston, or Jones, or Liston, would perhaps better fit the part than Mathews; who, since the solos he has been of late years accustomed to play on the stage, has acquired habits of couferring with himself, or with the audience only, which much perplex the other performers.

There is little plot. Mr. Blushington, by the death of a rich uncle, suddenly comes into a large property, which appears to be settled upon his nerves for life, with no "remainders over." His college habits having increased his constitutional timidity, he is well fitted to come trembling forth into society. All is agitation, diffidence, confusion, error, mischance. He sees a young lady at church whom he should like to love. The father of the girl, descrying the tender and fearful affection, and not perceiving any objectionable poverty

to make the match undesirable, determines on wooing the young gentleman into the family. Blushington is asked to dinner at Friendly Hallhe accepts the invitation and becomes alarmed. He goes-blunders a set speech, intended for the Baronet, to his butler; reaches down the wooden Xenophon, upsets the ink and his own three grains of trembling self-possession, bows down a bust of Socrates, wipes up the ink with his white handkerchief; and goes, thus tuned in every nerve-string, to the dinner table, where he lays waste every moveable object! He throws down the butter-boat, scalds his mouth with burning soup, spills the salt, and drinks to his young lady in vinegar; wipes his flushing face with the inked handkerchief, and then, amid the laughter of all the Friendly family, jumps up with the tablecloth in his button-hole, and accomplishes a finished clearance. He returns home; but the Friendlys (determined not to lose their prize) follow him, and invite themselves to dinner at his house. We do not see this second feast, but we see its effects, for he comes in fuddled yet frightened, has an interview with his lady, who contrives a good fainting fit in his arms, and finally with wine and kisses he is sobered into a fit state for marriage. The intoxication, though well acted, is awkwardly introduced, and as awkwardly got rid of, for the curtain falls before he has well done staggering.

The laughing in the front of the house is true Mathews-made laughter-noisy and incessant! There are some rugged puns and antiquated jests, but the piece on the whole is one of the most amusing we have seen for many seasons.

THE HAYMARKET THEATRE.

Harley and Liston have been for the past month acting their favourite characters at this house with success; and several of the stock comedies have been revived to admit of Farren playing his best old men. In the Hypocrite he makes but a hard, and not an insinuating Doctor Cantwell,-Methodism, like Noyau, is an oily cordial, and has nothing tart or effervescent in its nature; it is drunk in quiet, and wets the heart through in sober sadness. The Country Girl, in a clip

ped state, to suit the summer eveninga, has been revived for the sake of a new Peggy. The name of Mrs. Jordan rises upon our thoughts; but we must overcome recollections of her, so ruinous to her successors! -The young lady who has now appeared is indeed a young lady, but she is extremely lively, with brilliant eyes, an arch expressive countenance, and a capability for catching the passing humours of the scene rarely to be met with in one so inexperienced as we understand this debutante to be. She played throughout the comedy with an untired spirit; and when the curtain fell, the

audience were evidently charmed with the new suitor for their favour, and roundly applauded her. She will, with a little care and experience, settle down into a very clever little actress, we think. She is not yet named in the bills.

The comedy, with the foregoing exception, was but indifferently acted. And if any of the old stagegoers, who love to talk of Dodd and King, happened to witness this performance, they were furnished with food for lamentation sufficient to gratify their most inveterate recollections.

HYMN TO THE MONAD.

Intended to illustrate the Pythagorean Doctrines.
SHINE forth! shine forth! with every beam renew'd,
Oh brightest image of the fair and good!
Shine on my soul with all the flood of light
Which fill'd the Samian's liberated sight,

When, bless'd with happy boldness, he withdrew
The veil that Hyle o'er thy beauty threw.
Shine forth! but ah, the boon would be in vain
While sin's pollutions in my soul remain-
For dark as hell the chaos of my mind,
Each thought unyoked, each passion unconfined,
Bound down to earth with all the chains of clay,
With strength to ask, but none to seek thy ray.
Yet may I trace, though thus degraded still
In the inconstant tide of human ill,

Some vestige of the forms which Hyle shrouds,
Like mountain shadows on the fleeting clouds.
Half-seen the torch of heavenly beauty gleams
E'en through the twilight of this land of dreams;
And oft-times, in the chance that mortals own,
The finger of eternal power is shown.

Yet weak the power, and false the voice of sense,
Truth's birth-place far, and far her dwelling hence:
For, as was chaos to the laughing earth

When love first smiled and nature had her birth,
So they to thee-their place to thy abode,
Unchanging symbol of the perfect God!

Thine are the thunders, and the throne of Jove ;*
The bow, the quiver, and the shafts of love; t
Thine sacred Vesta's unpolluted fire; +
And all the echoes of Apollo's lyre. §

The supermundane Gods receive thy rays,

Surround thy throne, and celebrate thy praise;

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And if one beam in many ages fall
On the dark surface of this nether ball,
Then is the triumph of the good and sage,
Then the new era of a golden age!

But Hyle's reign returns, and fainter grow
The traces of thy rays in all below;

Mind cleaves to earth, and shuns the genial light,
Yearns after sin, and glories in the night.

Yet are there souls, by Hyle less confined,
That still can wave the fetter'd wings of Mind.
Oh, yield them strength, Eternal! Highest! Best!
Oh, grant them light to seek the realms of rest!
Bid the bright spheres ring out a louder chime
To cheer the struggle they maintain with crime.
Hark-Dian lifts her anthem to the stars-
Gods bend responsive from their burning cars—
The earth is full of deities, the sea-

Yea every wave hath its divinity

I see them rise-I hear the ecstatic song

The lofty diapason swell along—

I feel the Bacchic fury in my veins

I rend the veil-I struggle with my chains

Oh, God! oh, Heaven! no more in night I roam,
I see the day—I hasten to my home!

S.

REPORT OF MUSIC.

OUR article in the August Magazine contained a relation of the Bath and Cambridge festivals. The series has been since continued by the Salisbury, Worcester, and Norwich meetings; and at the very close of September, comes that of Newcastle. Never were grand demonstrations of art so numerous in the provinces of England. At the Salisbury meeting Madame Catalani had her share with Mr. Corfe; and a pretty large share it was, as she is known to have netted something more than 7007. There were six performances; three sacred, commencing on the morning of Wednesday, August 18, on Thursday and Friday; and three in the evenings, the first and last being concluded by a ball. Madame Catalani, Mrs. Salmon, Miss George, Mr. Harrington, Mr. Rolle, Mr. Sapio, and Mr. Bellamy, were the principal singers. The band was wretched for such a meeting, and we look in vain to the selections for the least particle of novelty. At the first performance were present 762 persons, at the second 425, at the third 1200, at the fourth 482, at the fifth 884, and at the last 642.

From Salisbury, Madame Catalani chasséed to Portsmouth, where she not only enlivened the town by a festival, but by an aquatic fête, for which she furnished the prizes. There were two evening concerts and one morning. The singers were the great undertaker herself, Miss Goodall, Messrs. Harrington, Forster, and. Rolle. The only remarkable trait was, that between the first and last parts of the Messiah was given an act of miscellaneous selection. Madame sang no fewer than five songs each night, but Miss Goodall had all the encores. Neither was there a note of Italian except from Madame Catalani. Verily the Portsmouth and Portsea audiences are more national or less advanced than the rest of the country. But then they had Rossini to English words; which, amongst those who know nothing of the original language, will answer all the same purpose. These Concerts were thronged. And here Madame Catalani had all the management, and all the profit. There was no "soft charity" to "repair."

The first of these performances took place on Aug. 24th, and we find this

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