The National Register.
London, England, 1811-09-29 00:00:00

HAYMA RKET THEATRE. •
A whimsical Tarce from the pen of Mr. Tit eon° er Hooit,
was produced pn Monday last. Its title is " Darkness risible,"
and as a light piece it is certainly entitled to much commen-
dation. it opens vrell, and from the business of the first scenes,
something exquisitely laughable was expected to follow. Mr,
Voox, however, seems to have rather slackened in the chase
of humour, and the whimsical mistakes which occur in the
early part of the piece, are discovered too soon. The climax is
not properly supplied, and the interest in a great measure eva-
porates without that ludicrous explosion which the Audience
are led to anticipate. I wAs disappointed to find he made so
little use of that which in the first instance seemed to promise
a.display •of extraordinary whim. The business, however, it is
but fair to state, does not languish long. New game is quickly
started, and followed to the end of the course with renovated
.vigour. The last Scene is exceedingly well worked up, and
• though extravagant, its extravagance is of that sort, that we
have, from infancy, been accustomed to tolerate, to laugh at,
• W!' even to commend in a Farce.
• The dialogue is in many parts very poor, and the characters
are little better. There is a heroine (Miss DE CA 34 e), who does
nothingbut grin, and a talkative servant (Mr.JoN es), who has
• thing to say. It contains many puns, which I cannot trace
to Joe Miller, and several wkiels r can. 1 wonder Mr. H. can
condescend to enliven his pieces with another's humour, when
he has so much of his own. The jokes, however, arc generally
fairly introduced, and not so awkwardly lugged in as in some
of his pieces, and in general they produced the desired effect,
having at least, the merit of being well timed. It was well
played (with a few exceptions), received great applause, and has
been repeated every evening since.
COVENT-GARDEN.

'I-

Mr. SINCLAIR has performed in The Duenna, and The Cabi-
net, in the course of the week, with increasing merit, anti com-
tuensurate success.

STAi\ZAS:
,ASIONED DIT Tun DECEASE OT
The late Rev. T. SPENCER, of LIVERPOOL.

Like flowers of morning, lost in swift decays
How oft is man, untimely, snatch'd w.vay ;
Ere dews of health the bloom delightful spread,
Or fostering suns their ripening virtue shed;
Alas! how soon the year of life is o'er,
And man, precarious man, beheld no more!
But, oh ! when Death with indiscriminate hand,.
Bears the prospective blessing from the land,
Must forfeit life, perpetual be deplor'd ?
Ne'er shall the hopes of Eden be restor'd ?
Nor Jesus yet, beyond the grave's control,
See, and enjoy the travail of His suul ?

Yes! there's a home, where, every trouble o'er,
Joy ever vernal beautifies the shore ;
Where peace and truth in holy concert reign,
And man and paradise unite again!
There glorious ecstasy the soul pervades,
And springs the healing fruit that never fades;
There Jesus, from his empyrean throne,
Gives the bright laurel wreath, the golden crown,—
Claims for His Church the mansions of the skies;
And wakes a Seraph song that never—never dies f
Great God ! and is such strength, such joy p.repar'd
For those who love Thee, such a large reward.?
Yes! 'twas to Thee he•gave his dubious breath.
A birth-place found amongst the waves of Death,
Claim'd an inheritance divinely blest,
And wing'd his welcome flight to realms of richest rest!
Fain would I trace his spirit to the shore
Where rocks deceive, and wave* distress no more,—
But fadeless joy dispels the forms of tear,
Nor gratitude itself can shed a tear !
There Heav'n's deep plans in Heav'e's own light are known,
And angel hallelujahs greet the throne,
While raptur'd saints their songs congenial raise
And concave thunder.; swell th' applause of praise!
There, love superlative ! the race shall rise,
Which pierc'd his heart, to fav'rites of the skies,—.
And truth and pardon beautifully shine,
The blended wreath of price and power divine !
Row late, methinks, I saw my Spencer wear,
A smile of Heaven, and breathe this ardent pr ay'r
" Great God of love, be Thou my strength and song,.
My heart replenish, and instruct my tongue,—
Guide me, amidst the complicated maze,
Impart the counsel, and accept the praise!
0 make it oft my grateful lot to rove
Tluo' the sweet pastures of Emanuel's love,—
And there my soul,—my flock,—abundant feed,
To streams profound of peaceful waters lead,—
And in each heart let springs of glory rise,
That wind thru' Death, and flow beyond the skies!"
Ah! had the awful sire of Heaven's decrees
Seen, as mortality's frail victim sees,—
Then had my friend in Zion been carest,
And long, the Church, in Spencer sweetly blest I
New tribes had heard and hail'd the cheering sound, .
More ample seals the faithful labour crown'd,—
The voice of joy had mark'd the glad abode,
Aud the world watch'd—and wept—and turn'd to God!
But if, by harmony of hearts endear'd
A life mature our happier friend had rear'd,—
Would fondness, less tenacious, yield the prize,
His-worth forego, and bid hint to the Wert

F6] 8, THE NATIONAI; 1
ittGIS
. DRA :VATIC REGISTER.
OCC