The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1824-03-13 00:00:00

PAS.IIIO,7ARtn LVTELLICENCE.

Lord Gage has left town for his seat, Firle, Sussex.
tat Earl of Egrzniont has arrived at his house in Grosvenor-
place, from his seat, Petworth, Sussex.
The Earl of Abergieenny baa left town for his seat, Eridge
Cootie, Sussex.
Colonel Gordon has left town fee Wynn Castle.
handy Marchioness of Londonderry entertained a distinguished
party at dinner on Thursday, at her house in St. James's-square,
among whom were, the Marquis of l'amilen and body Georgina
Pratt, the Marquis of Hertford, the Earl of Westmorland and
Lally Georgina !Vane, Mr. Temple, Mr. Seymour Bathurst, Mr.
Jekyll, &e.
Mrs. Hope will give a route on Monday next, at her house In
Slanalickt-street.
Si, George and the Missies Talbot will give a rout on Monday at
their house in New Burlington-street.
The Bishop's( !Amnia had a grand dinner party yesterday at his
Isousein 'Connaught-place.
Lewd Bexley had a dinner party yesterday at his house in Great
liso►ge.atrret, Westminster.
Viscount Hampden entertained a distinguished party at dinner
'yesterday, at his house in Green-street, Grosvenor-square.
Arthur Stanhope, Esq. bad &dinner party yesterday, at his house
in Tilney-street.
Afriralsa: the Coburg Hotel, Charlesetreet, Gronenor-sq awe:—
Lady Powiscourt and die Misses NVingfield, nom the Continent;
Mr. and Mrs. Cape!, from Paris ; and Lewd Mark Ken.
Arrivals at Kirkharies lintel, Lower Book-street :—Lord and
Lady Mandeville, from Brighton; Sir William Napier, Bart.
fmen Scotland ; Captain Mansell, from a tour ; Mr. and Mrs.
hate Is, from their seat near Canterbury; and Mr. lhgby, from the
Cornhieut.
lbe Hon. Mr. and Mn. Berkeley Nod and Mils Cave bare sr.
:red at Thomas's Hotel, Berkelcy.square, from their scat, Max-
well Pak, Warwickshire. The Marquis of Exeter has left ditto
tor Sussex.
Ai. ire:, at Mimes Hotel, Lower Brook-sired :—Mn. Gans.
semi, front a tour ; F. Davison, Esq. from Vorkshite ; and Edward
Foley, iSq. front a tour.

ITALIAN OPERA-HOUSE.

CONCERTS SPIRITUELS.

Lilt night the second of the Concerts Spirituel, took
place at the Italian Opera-house, but without tte• powerful
assietatiet• of ('atalani. We begin to think that the musical
mania has reached its smith in this country, and for this
plain ainf obvious reason (amongst many others), that
Shikspeare's comeilits arc only listened to because opera-
tieizt His ever-natural dialogue—his sprightly fancy—
his kt•eti and satirical wit—his sallies of passion—his
palfturs— liis invention—are all insufficient to attract, if
Miss Stephens, or Miss Paton, or Miss I'ovey, or Mr.
Biaham, or Mr. Sinclair, or some other lady or gentleman,
as the case may be—be not conspicuously set forth in the
bill of fare. The purity of this taste MUy indeed be ques-
tioned; the ext•rens• of such a judgment cannot be esti-
mated for its soundness or discretion. But then the ma-
nagers find that tousle pays them best (after the homes);
and they doeillgdly have • right to make the most of that
atimmoolity in which they deal. If the consumer be pleased
wikh• Continued sweets—if it be with him as with our
French neighbours, tottjours prrdrix—why, we cannot Pre-
vent, though we most heartily regret it. IVe hope, however,
that the evil will cure itself. It is as much un-English
' for us to ir_vome • nation of musicians as of dancers
• Only, as it would seem, to show the good people of the
CoOtnent,'lltat. if. we oho equal them in taste, or love
for the lighter arts• and sciences, we still have vanity
enongb to cover out deficiency by extravagant ostentation.
It is a troth, perhaps little attended to, because so well
knOwn, that these self-styled foreign artists in music and
dancing, actually ridicule our opinions on these subjects;
while we seem, by the prices we pay to witness their exhi-
bitions, to fix a bounty on their abuse. lf we must have
music, let us encourage that of home-growth ; if we must
cultivate singing and practise dancing, let us not for ever
stoop to the humility of foreign imitation. We have no
objection that foreigners should make the most of their ta-
lents; but we have every objection to that sift eted and in-
lurious fashion which is only gratifitel by the performance
of persona whose only claim to superior attention is, that
they arc neither English men nor English women. Look
at the contrite' to this conduct all through the Continent ;
• look to the occurrences which took place not long since at
aParis, where not only Mr. l'enley'a company was hooted and
hk.sed out of that capital, but where a lady of the Royal
Family commanded the perforponice of 9 piece which was
' a•gross miff istatteivus arttature upon the manners of Eng-
land ; soil Lea .lagh,i3 riser hire set the whole of the French
auditory into convulsions! In this country, however, we
have risen above such a feeling, and we take credit for it ;
but we must again repeat our regret—we would say, if it
were not a strong term, our disgust, at the unpatriotic va-
nity which induces the greater portion of our nobility to
patronize what is foreign at the expense of their own
country. In this " Lenten season we have a variety of
entertainments—astronomy, phrenology, criticism, tragedy,
and even now and thea a comedy, with an unusual
quantity of sacred and miscellaneous music. With respect
to sacred music, as performed at all the theatres, we think
its effect can never be good ; at least it can never be what,
under other circumstances, it might. There is something
strikingly incongruous in hearing "Scuts wha hae" after
160111 e of Ilandel'a soul-inspiring, sublimating strains : nut
that the former; in its proper place, is devoid of producing
the highest emotions ; but the one is of Earth, the other
of Heaven; one may "raise a mortal to the skies," but the
other can

" call an angel down."

Besides, the object of sacred music must be destroyed, in
consequence of the place in which it is heard. It is not in
the gaudiness of light--it is not bent meter the phantasics
of drapery—it is not amid straggling eyes and the artificial
bnery of the toilet, that we can find these feelings which
are likely to respond to " the long majestic march and
energies divine," which is the general characteristic of the
Isigher compositions of sacred music. The contrast is too
violeut between the ear and the chords by which it is to
be touched, and which are to convey to it, not pleasure so
• much as a more elevated enjoyment. Besides, if we becioute
faitiilisrised to amend music on the stage, its Effect will be
weakened in the solemn aisle; and we are old-fashioned
enough in our notions to believe, that there is not only a fit
sand proper time, bu: a fit and proper place for all toings,
The general tun of oratorio audiences set in to hear with-
out pleasure, and to pass their hour at the theatre merely
to show their servants they are refined, their visitors that
they are fashionable, and the world of lox that they can
be anywhere more happy titan at home. One seldom or
•ever sees anything like enthusiasm at an oratorio, and
seldom even a sparkle of that intelligence which catches at
the are of a Kean, or used to catch at the majesty of a
Kemple. lu tact, the oratorios are seen rather than heard,
and endured without being enjoyed. Nor is this, per-
haps, without excuse: the constant repetition of sounds,
however varied, must cloy the ear, as sweets are said to cloy
she stomach. They offer no continuity of interest, to keep
Masmitm ameba; thasmind's eye has no resting-place on
*inch to repose—all is distraction, though the field of sur-
vey may be all of concord and beauty: and thence results
the ranni, the indifference, and sometimes the passive
drowning sort of approval, which follows the best-performed
oratorio.—These observations are by no means intended to
apply to either of the respectable individuals who have un-
dertaken the oratorio, at the King's Theatre, or euvont-
garden and Drury-lane; they are generally made, and
like all others similarly ',Were& are to be taken with the
honest purpose which re have in view. We ate aware
that Mr. Itenelli has undertaken a very arduous duly; and
we are informed that he uses every exertion to meet the
wishes of his patrons, both as to the liberality of his en-
gagemoin,, and the superiority of the performers. If he
has not hitherto been able to succeed, be may say with the
poet—

'Tis not in mortals to committal success.;
But well do 'note, Nemprontut.--we'll deserve it.
liaising said thus much, we have little inclination to mid a
syllable upon the immediate performances of the last even-
ing. A hall was posted at caeh of the doors, announcing
the regret of the pmprietors that Atatlante Catalani's state
of health was such that she could not appear for three or
four days; to which was also added a certificate from Dr.
'Clarke, that it would he dangerous for her to appear in
public for sonic time. This announcement prevented many
persons from going into the theatre, who went there fur
that pupae: ; and to say the least, those who paid their
money had little for it, beyond a view of the Opera-house,
,in rstin r a cleanlie► condition than it was for the last
,two or three raviolis seasons. The change of proprietors
seems to have added little to the strength of the vocal
corps, however that of the ballet and orchestra departments
may have ken improved. Handel, Haydn, Mozart,
Rossini, and Mayer, were under contribution; but it will
perhaps surprise our readers that the only vocally sur-
plan thing tit the evening was, that the air, " Ile was

despised and rejected of men," was given with great sweet-
ness and pathos by Miss Love, and that it was doserv4v
encored.. We noticed that wleen she first sung it Ist
evening, she feared to venture upon the deep descent into
which it drops, and with which it concludes ; but we
were happy to find that the deserved applause of the au-
dience gave her a becoming confidence, which enabled her,
in the second effort, to meet the difficulty and conquer it ;
and win a well-earned tribute to her rising talents. Miss
Love should labour incessantly, and in a short time she
may be assured of reaping a harvest worthy of her best
ambition. Wilman played a conostoon the clarinet, with
his usual power and singularly rapid r xecution. Ile in-
troduced into it (rather the compostr) " The Last Rose of
Summer," and " II ‘'edrai," with variations; the former
breathed all the soul of music, and all the tendcrnessof
feeling ; and the variations to the latter found a master's
delineation in the finger of this admirable and unos-
tentatious native of the Emerald Isle. Mr. Atkins
sting an aria, " Arm, arm, ye brave," and was
received with considerable applause. Garcia and
Curioni were in excellent voice; Camdori looked inte-
restingly pale ; and as Grasiani continues to breathe
British air, perhaps she may acquire a voice. Bcnetti
deserves a favourable mention, and we cannot say too
much of Kitseweter's violin concerto. The orchestra
I is too powerful fer the voices; and taking the affair alto-
gether, we must honestly say, that if inure talent is not
thrown into the Concerts Spiritnels, we fear they are not
likely to repay the proprietors. On the present occasion we
are unwilling to say more. Before we close this article,
one word. What is the precise meaning Mr. Benelli
would have us to affix to Cuirerts Spirituel'? It would
be ungenerous in us to conclude our notice without ad-
verting to Madame Vestris's song, In infancy our hopes
and fears," which she sang with great taste. The horn ac-
companiment, by Paul, and another with whose name we
are unacquainted, displayed the astonishing power of that
instrument. But why does Madame A'estris break so much
in the time that the accompaniment is obliged to cease ?
The house we fashiostaltly attended. Their Royal High-
news the Duch. saes of Kent and Clarence honoured the
I theatre with their presence.

FIRST LOVE.
A TALE OF MY MOTHER'S TIME.

Those who find gratification in the reading of romance,
should, we think, be pleased with this book. Although
we may not have discovered, like the publisher, that it
possesses " more than the usual share of merit found in
similar productions," yet we have discovered that it is a
very plea;ing production, belonging to the light and de-
scriptive department of novel-writing. It is animated
throughout with a natural feeling of the beauties of rural
scenery, as well as by a great delicacy and propriety
of sentiment, and an occasional elegance of expres-
sion. Such a performance is certainly a desirable ac-
quisition to that class of literature to which it belongs. The
story is not such a one as the title would lead us to ex-
pect. We have the authority of Mr. Moore (no incan one
in love matters) for thinking that—
" There's nothinglialf so sweet in life

Love's young dream."
Yet our author has made •• First Love" a theme of bitter-
ness, of mortification, and disappointment. She (for we
suspect it to have been written by a lady) has not pour-
traycel the fond fidelity of ardent and youthful affection, or
traced that early and growing attachment which, though
it may be interrupted or impeded for a time by parental
authority, triumphs over difficulties, and terminates in
the happy union of two devoted lout rs. Such an out-
line, interwoven with agreeable incidents, would be
acceptable to every reader, because it would enlist
the sympathy of every heart. This seems, however,
to have been too dazzling a picture of human feli-
city for our author to depict, and she has thought pro-
per to exhibit the reverse in a narrative, of which the fol-
lowing sketch may convey a notion to our readers:—Ar-
thur Vernon, a young officer of hussars, uncommonly
handsome, amiable in the extreme, &c., pays his addresses
to Miss Julia Behnore, a haughty, heartless, and irre-
sistible blonde. She favours his suit; everything is ar-
ranged for their union, and she is united to the Colonel.

We give one extract, which is indeed characteristic of,
the general style of the book. It contains the parting of
Harriet Crcenvil and Louisa, and a liner of the former to
the Colonel. It is itnpossible to read these volumes without
being impressed with the very amiable character of the
former. She is must worthy of bring loved herself ; or in
promoting a matter of that kind for a friend, she would
be an invaluable auxiliary.
What then were her feelings when she received a summons to
without delay to town, in order to attend her mother, who
Kl7het, suddenly attacked with illness! A thousand new appre-
hensions assailed her, and in the midst of her tears for a parent's
health, she was not indifferent to the claims of friendship. She
anticipated the advantages her absence would give the dnmineering
spirit ofJulia over her sister s gentleness. and when she forced her-
self to communicate to her dear Louisa the unwelcome intelligence
of her immediate departure, she read in her countenance the des-
pondency which the shock occasioned. Louisa threw herself into
the arms of her cousin, and tears and sighs testified the distress of
mind she experienced. A few broken exclamations escaped her,
and the only consolations Ilarriet could otter were the assurances of
her confidence in Vernon's lionour.—" Ah, nay Ilarrict, his honour
is no doubt all you believe—but what of his affections !—Do you
think I could claim the performance of his engagements at the ex-
pense of his inclinations ? Oh never, never."
direst was the struggle of separation—at length Harriet, with an
effort, tore herself from her friend ; having exacted a promise that
she should keep her informed of every minute particular ; and en.
gaging to return to Delmore the very moment her dear mother's
health permitted.
. . . . . .

Before setting out on lICT journey she hastily penned the follow.
log letter to Vernon : _ _

'"The ilium of a parent calls me suddenly from llclniore. I
am compellel to Irate my beloved friend at the vcry moment when
she has the greatest occasion for my support. When I reflect on
the part I have taken, a thousand fears and reproaches overcome
me as I write.-ob, Vernon, to whom shall 1 entrust Louisa. if
not to you? may I not confide in your honour?—Could I doubt
your amaistency I should be the most wretched being on
esnh, (and n.y present unhappy state renders me wretched enough)
could I doubt you fur a moment !

" I have watched the progress of my Louisa—shall I not say of
your Louisa's iifllctions. I well know her to he worthy of your
heart. Her feelings ure as delicate as the taint blush on Inv cheek.
Ito not then for a moment trite with fedings that could nut sup-
port disappointment. You do not know that gentle soul as I do.
Oh, Vernon, beware of Julia—heware of her for your own sake,
but still more tie the sake of my Louisa.
" If you have valued the friendship, the regard of Harriet Green-
vil, remember all those engagements of which I was the witness.
Yet it is not to your honour that I appeal, but to your heart—if
you 'would redeem all your pledges, words alone will not suffice—it
is by your affections slime you can fulfil your engagements. Louisa,
:hough she were to sink under the loss of the man to whom she has
dedicated her existence, will never receive a hand, which a sense of
duty, • feeling of honour only have secured to her.
" But I must be brief—farewell, my esteemed friend : to you
once more I commit the sacred charge—Oh, should you prove un-
worthy of the trust, then will you become as hateful—as hideous,
act you are now dear to HARRIET."