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part with two sticks, being unable to stand on the stage without that aid*.
On the 5th of September he took his benefit, and played Captain Bertranı, in the “Birth-day,” and then introduced an entertainment, which, some years after, became very popular. It was announced as follows:
“At the end of the comedy, Mr. Mathews will present the audience with an entertainment, consisting of Recitations, Songs, Imitations, Ventriloquy, &c., called
Recitation-Introductory Address; general Improvement in the Conveyance of Live Lumber, as exemplified in the progress of Heavy Coach, Light Coach, Caterpillar, and Mail; whimsical Description of an Expedition to Brentford.
SONG-Mail Coach. RECITATION-Description of the Passengers ; Lisping Lady; Frenchman and Critic in black.
SONG-Twenty-four Lord Mayor's Shows. RECITATION, Breaking of a Spring; Passengers at Highgate; the Literary Butcher, or Socrates in the Shambles ; Definition of Belles Lettres; French Poets ; Rhyming defended.
Song-Cobbler à la Françoise. Recitation-Theatrical Conversation ; Dimensions of Drury Lane and Covent Garden Stages; Imitation of an Election Orator : the First Part to conclude with a Specimen of Ventriloquy.
Recitation-Digression on the Study of the Law; Whimsical Trial, Goody Grim versus Lapstone.
SONG-The Debating Society. Recitation-Scramble at Supper ; Drunken Farmer ; extract from Hippesley's “ Drunken Man;" Cross Readings; Imitation of Fond Barney at York; Highway Robberies ; Captain M Jumble from Tipperary.
Song-Rhyme with Reason. RECITATION—A Bull; a Quack Doctor ; Mountebank's Harangue ; another Bull; Anecdote of a Yorkshireman ; more Theatricals.
SONG-Humours of a Playhouse. The Entertainment to conclude with part of Hamlet's Advice to the Players, in
Imitation of several celebrated Performers." This entertainment he repeated for Mrs. Gibbs's benefit a few nights after. At the close of the Haymarket season he went to Brighton to be shampooed; but it did not relieve him from the sad effect of his accident, and he found himself unable to fulfil his engagement at Covent Garden before the 3rd of February, 1815. In the mean time he gave his entertainment in several country theatres.
In June, 1816, he played Macheath for his own benefit at Covent Garden Theatre. “The characters to be dressed as on its first representation in 1727, taken from Hogarth's celebrated picture. Mr. Mathews, for that night only, will attempt the voice and manner of a celebrated performer of that character.”
* From the effects of this accident Mr. Mathews never recovered ; nor, indeed, was the real nature of the injury he received ascertained until after his death.- Ed.
(To be continued.)
ALLAH CALLA 00!
Every one who has visited Edinburgh during the winter months must have been struck with the singularly wild and plaintive cry of the Newhaven fisherwomen at night. The following lines were written shortly after the loss of several fishing boats in the Frith of Forth.
HEAVILY, slowly, the fisherman's bride
Is pacing her weary round;
Is startling the ear with its sound :
And the bright cheek dims its hue,
While startling the ear through the silent night
Comes the wild Allah calla oo !
And how could it mirthful be?
And her Willie's away on the sea ;
But his heart is undaunted and true,
While startling the ear through the silent night
Comes the wild Allah calla oo !
'Twas a bride's—'twas a daughter's prayer!
Like the maniac shriek of despair. -
As they sank 'neath the waters blue,
While startling the ear through the silent night
Poor castaway! now thou may'st weep by the shore,
And fade like the sea-weed round;
To startle the night with its sound.
And whisper a prayer for the crew;
When startling the ear through the silent night
GALLANTRY—or the homage paid by Man to Woman, for her own sweet sake—is not dead in the world : it lives, at least here, in England. By gallantry, I do not mean that homage which consists almost wholly of deferential attitudes of attention-of waiting upon her wants, and flying to meet her slightest wishes-of polite bows and graceful genuflexions--of handings-in and leadings-out-of setting a chair, or seeing down to a carriage, and all the shallow, superficial, signs of worship, without any real devotion to the sex ;-I mean that gallantry which is the only gallantry—the unshowy, reverential respect, the quiet, unpretending homage paid hy good and true men to women as women, for their virtues' sake; the gallantry of the heart and the honest thoughts-not that of the head, and hands, and legs, and hat. The English-rough, rude, unpolished, and uncourteous as they are said to be—have always rendered that proper reverence to the sex, plainly, bluntly, heartily, and honestly. The French were always great professors of the external forms of this gentle worship: no men could flutter about woman more assiduously, and pay her handsomer attentions-none flatter her morethrow themselves more gracefully at her feet—" talk of love the whole day long”-protest, swear“ lovers' oaths,” and “lie like truth”-love's truth—in her presence; but the true reverence and real religion of the heart were wanting all the while, and were not seen either in the bended knee, or in the clasped hands, or in the beseeching prayer, or in any one outward sign or demonstration of their worship. The sentiment of love was heard breathing sweet syllables about her ear, like the warbling of music, but the heart was not heard beating in the centre of the instrument amid all that concord of sweet sounds, like the pulsation that should accompany the air--without which it was but
“ Aërial music in the warbling wind," and “sound, signifying nothing.” The soul and spirit of love and gallantry were wanting, and a selfish passion only was heard and seen making itself companionable, worshipful, and amiable for its own sake, and its own selfish ends. Gallantry was a gay fop to look at: fashionable, frivolous, airy, witty, sparkling, sentimental-giving himself a. thousand agreeable airs-saying a thousand agreeable things, and saying and doing all without an atom of heart. A preux chevalier was gallant because gallantry was the mode at court: homage aux dames was as essential to his outward man as his diamond-hilted sword, his enamelled spuff-box set with brilliants, his laced ruffles, and his gold or silver garnished court-suit. The “ nice conduct ” of an amour, so called, was as carefully looked to as the nice conduct of his clouded cane;" and the true chevalier took up the one or laid down the other with about an equal quantity of sentiment : the one was quite as important as the other, and just as much a matter of soul. If the one ended in a walk, or the other in a wife, the heart was equally unconcerned : to the chevalier, if of a certain age, a wife was as convenient, as much an article of form, as showy an appendage, perhaps, as the cane which was sometimes handed along with a graceful air as an ornament and an addition to the trappings of the man; and was sometimes dangled at the elbow as an incumbrance and no ornament, as it happened. The gold-headed cane testified to his rank in life, or his wealth without rank; and the eyes of the Parisian world took him on trust, upon his own personal responsibility: the gold-headed wife restored his reputation as a gentleman when over head and ears in debt, and with her handsome dowry set his pride on its legs again, to “ strut and fret its hour upon the stage.” The stage, however, where the chevalier had so long “played his part,” was cleared for a tragedy, and the frivolous actor in the comedy of life was rudely driven from the scenes.
That order of gallants, and their notions of gallantry, are dead and gone among the French of modern times; and according to the observations of all alien visiters to the self-styled " capital of the world,” the changeable Parisians are now more remarkable for their want of gallantryeven their own-invented, conventional sort of it—than the wellbred men of any other less-conceited city in the world : the inevitable ending and natural termination of a pretension founded on falsehood — a superficiality without heart and soul. Having forsaken the outward form of their old false worship of women, they will perhaps, in time, learn how to treat them with the proper, manly gallantry. The Parisians show no signs of this “ consummation, devoutly to be wished,” at present, if one may judge of their respect for women by what we see of the spirit of modern pictorial art ; for there are no artists in the world who degrade women so utterly by making them objects of mere sensuality in print and picture: all is grossness and ingenious impudence, however wrapt up and disguised. Depravity of taste stares you in the face, imperfectly concealed with a thin drapery of sentiment. Thank heaven that, though the invasion of these licentious works spreads over our city, and disgraces its print-shop windows, there are still “ manly hearts enough “to guard the Fair,” and “ beat brute violence down.” The English may be coarse, and homely, and “to seck” in French refinements; but they will—the millions of them-be men ;-fathers who respect the modesty of the eyes and the heart of their wives and daughters-brothers who are jealous of the uncorrupted innocence of their sisters, or any other womanly objects of their love and reverence. True, manly gallantry is not dead here : it lives in the honest hearts of the humble, as much as in those of the high, as healthily as ever.
You may see it active and stirring, and hear it speak-ay, and think, too-plainly, and openly, so as not to be misunderstood." The English are still a modest people—no thanks to French artists and French novelists, and French “ evil communication,” which“ rupts good manners.'
I witnessed, the other day, an instance of the pure and simple homage paid willingly to woman in this country, even by men of the common class. The poor gallants were scavengers; the fair object of their respect-a Gentlewoman. As is my way, I shortly fell into a contemplation and investigation of what it is in a perfect gentlewoman that delights and subdues at once the temperate and the rude into a sort of reverential love. Is it her bland, sweet voice ?—for the voice of a gentlewoman is-next to music—the sweetest of all earthly sounds : it is, indeed, music-spoken music. Is it the benign expression, the softness, the shine, the occasional sparkle of her eyes ?-the persuasion
which there is in her very silence?-the self-restraint, that constrains you?-the composure--the unaffected air-the elegant simplicity of her personal carriage?—What is it that subdues us; and how is it—by what means of enchantment—that we are subdued ? The vulgar and the noisy are immediately silent, and involuntarily assume an unaccustomed gentleness, and a respect for her feelings, if she but passes by them in a narrow street, or in the passages of an inn, or wherever she is met, in any place, where the gentlewoman is not often seen. An increase of light seems to come into the room where a gentlewoman enters: the poorest place seems no longer poor while she is present, like a rich jewel in a mean casket-an unknown Titian within “the walls where poor men lie”—a Raffaelle, full of angelic beauty, surmounting some small road-side altar to the Virgin. A sweetness suffuses the air where she abides but for a minute. Love hovers round her, and tends upon her steps. Poesy, with “expressive silence,” hymns“ her praise." Painting follows her, watching her every turn, and detecting some “new grace, beyond the reach of art," to copy and transfer. Sculpture studies her“ in form, and moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel !” and turns desparingly to the cold, lifeless marble. Observe her, having left her carriage somewhere in the neighbouring wide street, unaccompanied thread her way through the noisome alleys, leading to some wretched spot, whither she is bent on some errand of benevolence ——see her, I say, among all sorts of unaccustomed offences, picking her way, but unoffended by anything she meets, among the dirt and depravity of what may be called a sprat neighbourhood—the exposed abundance of that cheap dish for the poor man's table being always a tolerably good indication of the abundance of poverty roundabout-see her among those ruinous streets in the decayed districts of this town which were once wealthy, and perhaps fashionable,
• O'er whose wastes," as Barry Cornwall says of certain lodgers of the ocean, like a good lawyer and good poet,
“ The weekly tenants range at will :" see her there, for it is a gladdening sight to see her there. The poor of her own sex hurry out to their doors as she glides by, and, envying and unenvying, look after her, and bless her—for she is perhaps know to them for her goodness to such as are poor and wretched. The ragged little girls curtsey to her : the shveless boys scrape one hard foot behind them on the stones, and, catching their elfin-locks by their rayged ends, bow to her, in their way. The mothers hold up their squalid children in their arms, and bid them “Look at the lady!” The sauciest, idle fellow stares modestly -- but stares-in her sweet face as she approaches the wall against which he is loiterilig or lounging; and seems as if he would, on the instant, run ten miles to do the smallest errand for her, without fee or reward, out of pure sudden liking and love of her gentle looks : he would do anything in reason-suspend an oath, or give up any depravity which is a part of his enjoyments-to win her smile, and hear her thank him ; and if she curtsied to him-humble as he is - for some small favour done to her, would feel a moral elevation above Tom, Jack, and Harry, not so blest, and glow all over with infelt