The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1825-09-06 00:00:00

COBURG THRATR F.

It seems of late to have been the taste of the minor
theatres to fight Baniparte's battles over again, and we
are not inclined to rind fau!t with this predilection; for
however Englishmen may differ in opinion as to the for.
reation of his mind said the treatment he experienced in
his latter days, few, we believe, will be inclined to lament
the conclusion of a career that prevented Europe from being
at peace for so many years, and must always have rendered
peace precarious ; and the prominent part that this country
took to bring about that conclusiou, is naturally a spirit
btirring reflection, because it recalls to our remembrance the
enduring thinness which Great Britain evinced in the
most important contest that she was ever engaged in. The
managers at this house have chosen the close of the battle
of Waterloo as the commencement of their operations for
lutroducing Napoleon to their audience, which are brought
down (every intervening circumstance being introduced)
to his funeral at St. Helena. There is more of dialogue
In this piece than in those at Astley's, in which the Es-
Emperor is brought forward, but we cannot felicitate the
author upon its merits, although we can with great truth
congratulate the scene painters upon a variety of very
beautiful scenery. Indeed we ought to qualify our disap-
probation of the dialogue, fur the Gods were somewhat
noisy on this geod &int Monday night, and the only words
that we heard in the last set were from Mr. Bengough,
and to the following—" A hornpipe iu this scene would
ent4ely destitay.tho almost of the piece, hut you shall have
a jolly good one in the burning of the Kent." Now, as
Mr. Benin-ugh did not accompany this speech by the
courteous commencement of " Ladies and Gentlemen," we
may imagine that the authorship in this part was
of a most interesting description, and that the
acter's patience was exhausted at the little attention
that wee paid to it. Mr. Henry Kemble enacted the exiled
Napoleon, but his performance of the character was out of
all keeping ; and when we say that he ranted and cried,
with great difficulty got his snuff box out of his pocket,
awl when be did get it out took scuff with his glove in his
band, we are sure that we need say no more to convince
every one that ever heard of Bonaparte or his habits that
lie was tot well represent. d t.y Mr. Kemble. Sallies of
isn't n are very different from continual ranting, in which
the Emperorof the Coburg indulged. Mr. Kemble should
also recollect, that although his father cou'd play Shak-
speare's fat Knight without stuffing, it does not follow that
Le, the son, shoed.' be able to play a French Emperor with-
elt such aid. He looked more the representative of the
stripling General when he was making the campaign of
1796, than the corpulent Emperor at Waterloo. Besides,
his surtesit was not the grey great coat, lined with white,
that Napoleon ever.. and which appeared as natural to him
as Ms snuff box ; but it was a plain drab, rather of a light
culour to be sure, that every linentlraper's apprentice,
wears on a Sunday. And this inaccuracy of costume upon
the back of a descendant of John Kemble, representing an
emperor, did, we confess, surprise us, although it was at a
tumor theatre. The piece appears to have been got up
with great care, as far as decorations, scenery, and me-
chanism go, and we doubt not that ie hero of it, Mr.
Kemble, will receive other friendly hints besides our own,
which will ultimately make him a fair representative of the
extraordinary Conical]. The house was crowded in every
Pam

On Tuesday his Serene Highness the Duke of Bruns.
with, attended by Baron Bulow and Captain Bowles, ar-
rived at the Royal Hotel, from England. He leaves town
to-day fur the Highlands, where he will probably join his
brother, Prince William, to whom, if rumour may be cre-
dited, he has eNled the principality of Vela, in `Silesia--,a
territory containing about eighty-five thousand inhabitants,
and yielding a rtvenue of fifteen thousand pounds a-year.
His S lent Highness has remained quite private during'
his stay in this dity.--.Edieburgle Observer.
The Duke Bernard of Saxe Weimar, recently arrived at
Boston, is about 39 years of age. He is the second son of
the reigning Duke, and has distinguished himself as a war-
rior. The object of his visit is to inform himself, by per.
anal observation, of the institutions, resources, and cha-
ncier of our country. Ile is represented ro be a person of
highly liberal principles and unaffected manners. The
noble example set by his father, in being the first German
prince to give a free constitution to his subjects, will pre-
POWS& the American people in favour of the son.—Phi-
ialatAier Paper.
Ths &V. Rowland Hill still continues in the neigh.
heu-hood, and is constantly attended in whatever chapel
be preaches by great crowds of hearers.—Dettonshire Free-
holder.

Letters were recently received front the War-Office by
the late Town Majors, Sirr and Swan, permitting these
',sidemen to retire on their full salaries for their lives.
I'amain White is now the sole Town Major of the garrison.
lin Evening I'ust.
We understand a clue has liven found to the names of
the Penns who lately %blew down the statue of the Duke
of Wellington in the Crescent, Ramsgate. A word dropped'
at a convivial party discovered what the reward of 40
guineas failed to do.—lt'seffliag Paper.
The first shaft of the Thames Tunnel at Rotherbithe
It 1105 sunk to the full intended depth, via. 80 feet, which
n2O feet below the bed of the River. The excavation

1000,01 will now 1100 I) commence, and, to all appearance,
'Nh every prospect of success.
nntrov Jevicrton RAIL-ROAD.—We undentand that
In consequence of the proprietors of the Liverpool and
Manchester rail-road having adopted a new line, which re-
dacts the distance nearly three miles, it has been resolved
to unite the Bolton and Leigh rail-road with it ; the din-,
tatiteof Bolton from Liverpool will then not exceed thirty
Loilea.--..ifartchester Guardia".

• ANECDOTE OF TALMA. 1
The French are notoriously delicate in murder upon the
stage ! In the height of the Revolution, when the guillo-
tine was permanently patriotic, and the judges fell asleep,
wearied with signing sentences of bloodshed, a dagger
lifted upon the stage would have thrown the whole mob of,
regenerators into hysterics. On the first representation of
I Othello, the death'of Desdemona before the audience raised
len universal tumult. Tears, groans, and menaces resounded
from all parts of the theatre, and what was still more de-
monstrative, and more alarming, several of the prettiest
women in Paris fainted in the most conspicuous boxes, and
wore publicly carried out of the house. Ducis was alarmed
for his tragedy, for his fame, and for his life. The author
of so much public combustion might have been sent to ex-
piate hie temerity in the Bastile. He took the safer mode,
and altered the catastrophe. At the moment when Othello
lifts the dagger over Her/dinette (the name of Desdemona
was too unmusical for Parisian ears), °dal& rt! the hero-
ine's father, Loredan, and the Doge of Venice, rush in.
The latter personage seizes the dagger, exclaiming—
" Itlalbeureux, que tain-tu ?
Tu vas de ce poignard immoler la Term !"
The play was published with both catastrophes, for the Pa-
risians to take their choice, and the coteries found an in-
teresting and unending topic in the respective merits of the
denouement
_lunette and denouement heureux. But the actor,
probably from his English education, was less tender, and
more natural than his audience. The denouement hcureux
sat uneasily upon hint; and a few nights after its adoption,
as Ducis, the author, was passing behind the scenes, he
saw Telma striding away in one of the dark passages, in
full soliloquy. "Shall 1 kill her?—No, the audience will
not suffer it !—Yet, what do I care—l will kill her—they
shall learn to suffer it—Yes, I have made up my mind—
She must be killed !" Duds, who stood aloof from the
whirlwind of' this debate, now came forward. " What is
the matter with you, Taltna ?"—" I am determined—l'
must put her to death !"—" I am of your opinion, Talme ;
but what then?"—" Her fate is fixed ! —" Then go through
your determination!" The actor went through with it, to
the surprise of the general audience, and to the peculiar
agonies of the most obviously handsome and fashionable ;
but there was so much' truth and dramatic feeling in his
performance, that the death became the established mode,
and Talons had all the honours of a successful intrepidity.