The National Register. — London, England, 1812-11-08 00:00:00

898 /'• . # NOV. 8 THE NATIONAL REGISTER. DRA.ll.,ll'h . : I? EGI ST'ER. COVEN I' GATZWN-111:-A PPE ',RANCE OF BErry. This Gentleman, whose bovhoad acquired so much thea trical fame aod fortune, after spending six years in classical studies and t tirement, has now returned to court the ap plan-c of crowded houses, arid endeavouv to confirm, by his exertion: as a man, his reputation as a boy. Rapturously welcomed by the puhlic, leis net with a ruder reception from some of the daily dispensers of cr iticisno and renown. They have assumed, that haring gone through a sufficient round of initiatory exexise in his earlier performances, he now prey , c.ts hisnself, not as a debotant, but as a finished ActET. This :or rrnise sufficiently accounts for their severity, whit h being ft: undrd on a mistaken notion, recoils upon them selves, ai.d d:•prives their opinion of its tonal weight. The little expeticoce which Mr. BETT V had gained in the course , cf his short but blilliant theattical career, must have been greatly implhed, if not entirely lost during his secession from the stage, when his mind bent on graver pursuits, seemed to have for ever resigned all claim to the histrionic crown. It is hot fair, therefore, to consider him as a new cand.date for Dramatic honours, labouring under all the ap pralteta,i-ns that attend a first appearance, and under diffi eo!ties encrcascd, intlead of being diminished, by his former exertions and successes : for, whilst to the one may chiefly be attributed the inharmonious tone of his voice, strained by them, we fear beyond recovery, the other pitch him against himself, and create a wildness of expectation, which it is impossible should not in some degree, be disappointed. To judge fairly of his merits, we must decide on what dless of what he has been. Mr. BETTY chose the patt of Saim, in Barbarossa, for 11 , •.s re aiTearance, probably because it was the character in which he first presented himself before a London audience, nr on account of the allusions which it contains to the changes operated by time in a boy whom years have ripened into manhood. The play itself is not one of superior met it Of interest. It was framed by I)r. BILOWN out of SOPHOCLE'S .E.'",r/ra and VOLTAIRE'S Mcropr, aed, like all imitations, is j o l oi jor to the originals. It is not, however, deficient in ge neral elegance, •and occasional strength of style, but it boasts few of those passages, which, sprung from the heart, aw,ken all its energies. The loud language of the passions is he.. d, their violent effects arc seen, but those less stormy, atid stil 'rote powerful touches, that always find an answer ing fibre in the human breast, but seldom, if ever occur. Tle_• author did not paint from nature herself, be caught her reilectiror in the soot ks of ancient and contemporary genius, and in his atterni.ti at giving it an original garb was not al ways exempt limo iuciation and boniln,st. The pai t of ''elfin does not ()tier a wide field for the dis- T lay t,f varit d excellence. Revenge and filial piety form its coostittieet passions, for love awakes but weak and transient emotions in the soul of the hero. The tenderness of his filial affection, and the fierceness of his ICVCI2C, are even ineceAsatily checked in their expression during neatly the whole of the piece, by the nature of the situations in which he is plaCed, and until the moment when, frantic with indignation at the insuhs•otTered to his mother, he .forgets the caution which seemed indispensable to secure the success of his 'plan, vainly attempts to stab the usurper, and then discovers himself, the representative of the dis guised Prince, has to assume the demeanor of a slave, and to silenc=e, not to utter, the voice of 'his passions. Dissimula tion, twin sister to hypocrisy, Theoniv evillhat walks invisible, except:to Doti atone, is only arduous when the situations in which its votary finds himself, are such as either to tempt him strongly to reveal himself, a , .;ainst his interest, or to expose him to a perilous discovery. In Barbarossa the author has relieved his hero from that difficulty in almost every scene, except that wiih his mother ; for when he presents himself before the usurper as his own murderer, he is provided with proofs, which he knows must be satisfactory, and screen him from all suspi cion. When, afterwards, he meets Oilman, he speed:lv reveals himself, on ascertaining his real sentiments; and at the very appatent crisis of his fate, he is made guilty of the same imprudence, after a struggle, trifling when com pared with the important reasons he had to remain con cealed The dissimulation of Oilman is perhaps the most arduous of the two, as it is of longer duration, and is expo s ed to more frequent trials. On Tuesday last the house overflowed at an early hour, and as Mr. BETTY does not appear until the middie of the second act of Barbarossa, the expectation of the public was carried to such a pitch, as to become perceivable in the agita tion of the audience. When his arrival, as Achmet, is announced in the piece, a moment of perfect silence pre vailed in the house, every breath scented even suspended ; but when Barbarossa orders the youth to be conducted be fore him, an universal and involuntary buz arose, as of pre paration for some great -event, which terminated at his ap pearance, in repeated bursts of applause. Visibly affected by his reception, he bowed gracefully several times, wed not withstanding his agitation, which lasted through the greatest part of the evening, his performance deserved the prafuse mat ks of approbation with which it was greeted. Mr. B.'s stature,without being commanding, appears a little above the common size, but his stoutness reduces his height, without producing an unpleasant effect. His countenance is handsome, but more expressive of the lighter than the setious passions; for its rotundity accords better with the received ideas of mirth and good nature, than with those of dejected grief, or deep pondering revenge. The smile of satisfaction, the flash of joy, breaks on his lips, or darts from his eyes with peculiar lustre and eloquence ; but the gloom of thought and woe sits less efficiently on his features. Ills voice which, though somewhat clearer and softer, resembles much that of Mr. FARLEY, produces the same effect on the ear as E ISTON'S nose on the eve. Both offend at first, the one by its inharmonious modulations in the high tones, the other by its undignified brevity; but both are soon forgotten in the excellence of the performer. In its low notes, bow ever, Mr. BETTY'S voice is both melodious and impres ' sive. His action is generally jnst and graceful; occasionally perhaps rather formal. He seems to have studied paintings and statues more closely than nature. Hence his attitudes are elegant, appropriate, and classical, but sometimes war t that unaffected ease which a long habit of the stage alone can give, and which enables an actor, instead of going throu g h a regular round of motions, planned beforehand, to obey the sudden inspirations of feeling and of genius, and to produce the most powerful effect. He treads the stage occasionally too pompously, and when 'he recovers from a bow, is apt to throw his shoulders and his head too far back, Hso as, for a - moment, to present little more than his neck and chin to the spectators.. The , e are trifling defects, which are mentioned only because they may be corrected as soon as they ore known, and svhich, even now, vanish in his atsimated scenes. In these, lie evi ! Neatly feels, and yields to, the impulse of genius : his court ' tenance beams with additional expression : the-unpleasant d•swell io his 'voice disappears or is 'forgotten; his action he- 7 NO conic )IlOit less; her pica; befa than olio 111 • ~lP'C i ~,', k the day S 511;