THE REAL CHRISTMAS ENTERTAINMENT—THE BEAUX' STRATAGEM.

" Look not the gift horse in the mouth."—Sancho Panza.

THE performance of FARQUHAR'S piece of iniquity, which men censure as they read, and read while they censure, is, for the merit it has displayed on the part of the actors, and the gratification it has afforded the audience, by far the greatest achievement of either house, this winter's campaign. And though a sister dra- matist—of course immaculate herself—with a kind of christening modesty, accounts it " an honour to the morality of the present age that this most entertaining play is never performed, except some new pantomime or other gaudy spectacle be added as an afterpiece, for the attraction of an audience"—(O ye gods !)—yet it there be any faith in human merriment, very audibly expressed, as a token of human enjoyment, sorry we are to be forced to tes- tify against this righteous generation, that the universal hilarity of pit, boxes, and gallery, proves that the moral public " of the pre- sent age," in all its grades alike, takes unusual delight in this most immoral play. Nay, it is moreover certain, that the moral house do particularly applaud with most undisguised symptoms of mirth whatever expressions admit of two interpretations ; and that a gratuitous double entendre of KEELEY'S Scrub—more question- able than aught that can be charged on the licentious dramatist— is received with peals of rapture, ringing round and round, till echo rings again, The presentation of the Beaux' Stratagem in conjunction with the Christmas Pantomime, which Mrs. INCHBALD instructs us to consider as more than accident, looks not unlike a stratagem on the part of managers to cheat innocent folks for their good ; and, under pretence of exhibiting Harlequin and Columbine, to treat them to an illicit entertainment. Nobody of course dreams of de- siring to go to see the Beaux' Stratagem ; but everybody must go to see the new pantomime : as for what the actors may choose to ex- hibit previously, that is nothing to him or her,—they don't go to see that, they go to see the new pantomime. But many a pair of laughing eyes thL night saw the curtain fall on the novel sort of family arrangement which FARQUHAR has hit upon for the benefit of wives blessed with sullen husbands, from under the pent- house of a sad and mortified brow. Ourselves even heard words —severe words—in reprobation of the piece, from fair lips that had the minute before given less questionable evidence in its favour; and we remarked an elderly gentleman, amidst a family groupe, who closed a hearty cachinnation, with a recollective look, a shake of the head, and a demi-groan of " sad morality ;" whilst his eyes yet ran over with glee, and his visage was radiant with the hilarity of his heart. There is a good deal of cant in daily and weekly periodicals about the rows of shining faces at a Christmas pantomime. Truth to say, we saw none at this pantomime. On the contrary, we saw the faces that under the influence of Foigard, Scrub, and Archer, had waxed bright and joyous, gradually over- cast in the reign of Pantaloon and Clown ; and they who had been so sinful as to laugh at the iniquities of the play, remained to do penance and be lugubrious over the pantomime. For FARQUHAR and his play, in sober earnest, he is a bold man who ventures any other defence than is comprised in the common- place remark on the " prevailing immorality of that age," or in the Scotch proverb—"least said soonest mended." So we leave it to the fair smilers and venerable laughers to reconcile, as they best can, their merriment to their consciences. Only we would suggest, that a public which so often sits down to Figaro, stripped indeed of his original wit, but in full possession of his original morals,—or sees with applause Sit, Giles Overreach, tempting his own daughter to prostitution, represented by one who to the offensive meaning lends its most offensive expression,—needs not be too severe on itself for enjoying a play in which a neglected wife is drawn tam- pering with temptation. However, it is a singular performance to have occupied the last six weeks of a man's life ; for it was in that space of time, and at that period of his life, poor, disappointed, broken in spirit and declining in health, that the courtier-captain- actor-author composed this exquisite morceau of wickedness :—and coupled with this fact, the play is about as odd a commentary on FARQUHAR'S morals and those of his age, as its warm reception at Covent Garden is on those of this present immaculate January 1829. For ourselves, we neither defend nor deny the pleasure we take in the performance ; but to him who would -censure us, reply, with our fellow laughers, fair and elderly —" Hout tout, man! let that flea stick i' the wa', and when it is dry 'twill rub off:"

KEELEY'S SCRUB.

KEELEY'S dramatic character is established—the greatest actor of littleness that ever trod the stage. In Scrub, a part which allows those who can fathom it to sound the bottom of all humility, he attains unto the highest pitch of greatness. His mere walk and posture are irresistible provocatives to laughter ; and along with the open mouth and deprecatory face, are the true index to the inner man—that happy compound of the valiant heart of the chicken, the magnanimity of the mouse, and the spirit to resist of the worm_; on whom men tread without thinking it necessary to apologize, and who does not deem himself privileged to feel even angry with persons of their height and dimensions—" I believe they talked of me, for they laughed consumedly." When from far below he lifts up his face to those that look down upon his from their heights, it wears the humble, submissive, non-resisting look with which Gulliver may be supposed to have met the punch-bowl eye of the Brobdignag farmer who found the little biped among the corn-stalks ; and his cheek, so conveniently and invitingly pre- sented, seems to entreat a slap, would the tall person but deign to take that notice of his humility. His voice is in most perfect harmony with his look and posture, and is nicely tuned to the ex- pression of the most unfeigned prostration of spirit ; as though he were a being that called himself man only on sufferance from his greaters. " Secondly I asked, what the gentleman was ? They answered and said, that they never saw hire before. Thirdly, I inquired what country- man he was? They replied, 'bras more than they hnrw." This budget of non-intelligence is unfolded with a feeble impor- tance, and deeply earnest sincerity, that enhance to the degree of ne plus ultra the ludicrous nullity of the communication. Then image little KEELEY putting himself in a jaunty attitude to give his ladies an accurate idea of the tall flashy footman who jabbers French with the Count's valet, "like two intriguing ducks in a mill-pond." But the most admired hit was, perhaps, the haste which he makes to gulp a capacious mouthful fresh sucked in from a reamy tankard of the squire's strong ale, in his anxiety to satisfy brother Martin as to his trustworthiness—" But will vou be sure to keep the secret ?"—Or the brimful impatience he -dis- covers to overflow in confidential gossip, when Archer dexterously but carelessly tries him again with the magic word—" Ay, ay, to be sure, there are secrets in all families." Keeley—" SECRETS, 0 LUD . . But I'll say no more—Come, sit down."—All the humour of both pantomimes, distilled and condensed into the

smallest conceivable drop, were weak and waterish compared either with this aposiopesis, or with the hurried suppression of the mouth- ful aforesaid.

KEELEY makes much mirth by his assiduous mimicry of Mar- tin's nonchalance and airs of flashy importance ; but possibly there was a little too much of it—a dash or two of imitation less pre- meditated would have told more. Another and yet more question- able improvement on the original, is Scrub's soliloquy to the bottle, when, parodying Aimwell, he bends in adoration of the " bright divinity" which he has just deposited on the floor. It is impos- sible not to be amused with this interpolation, though it is quite out of character with Scrub, whose imagination cannot be sup- posed capable of winging such a flight. Of this, as of all such

additions, it may be said, that however humorous in themselves —and it is seldom that they are so redeemed—they stick like patches on the original piece—" tutus et alter adsuitur pannus." FARQUHAR himself wrote only-

. " Exeunt Dorinda, 83Pc. Scrub sits down.

" Enter Foigard. Foig. 'Save you, master Scrub ?"

It has been said often of GARRICK, that he could be Brutus in the play and Fribble in the farce, and delight the audience equally with both ; and eye-witnesses have professed not to know whether most to admire his Scrub or his Ranger. Now, putting KEELEY'S Scrub by the side of KEMBLE'S Brutus, what are we to say of the man who could grovel as low as the one and reach the elevation of the other ? Rare men were living before Agamynnon, no doubt ; but a range like this, from the summit to the base of humanity, can never have been given to mortal actor ; and, frankly to speak, we don't believe in the truth of the eulogium to the extent here supposed. GARRICK must have fallen short either of the scrub- biness of KEELEY or the loftiness of KEMBLE ; and, if the truth were known, it would not surprise us to find that the first excelled him as much in depicting what is poor-spirited and abject in man, as KEMBLE transcended him in the manifestation of all that is noble and great.

" ET CXTERA."

The Foigard of POWER and the Archer of CHARLES KEMBLE are worthy companions to KEELEY'S Scrub; but as the latter has usurped the space that should have been devoted to them, we shall endeavour to commemorate their deserts at a more conve- nient season.

We have only to observe further, that the other parts are re- spectably sustained ; though BLANCHARD'S queer face and comical tones converted Sullen, the sot and the brute, into Sullen the sot and the humorist ; though Mr. 0. Snipe can neither elevate nor depress his eyebrows, work them as he will, into exact conformity with the hang-gallows look of Gibbet; and though even BARTLEY, with the needless addition of an extra belly, is a thought below or beside the mark in Bonniface,—nay, we grow at last to think him a bit of a bore, begging his pardon " as the sai-ing is." We might have anticipated, too, a more adequate representative for Cherry than the lady to whom she is consigned,—though to do Miss FORDE justice, her demeanour is far from unpleasing ;—but perhaps Cherry was a condescension too great for VESTRIS ?— What a mistake ! Cherry, the pink of bar-maids and flower of innkeepers' daughters !—Cherry, typified by nothing so aptly as a generous morel, which having escaped the fingers of men and the beaks of birds, has hung its full time, and is at last espied by some glad eye, blushing, ripe, and luxuriant, behind the green leaves that have screened it from observation. If VESTRIS stooped to Cherry, it would have been only to conquer ; and she may put down in her memorandum-book one opportunity at least fairly let slip of shining and charming at once. We must not forget to ask, why the very proper and becoming costume of CHARLES the Second, oa the back of Gibbet, is put out of countenance by the swallow-tails and tights of GEORGE the Fourth, on Aimwell and Archer;—renewing the absurdity of the days which saw a RICHARD the Third in an old English cloak, surrounded by the bag-wigs, ruffles, and skirts of GEORGE the Second. Some obsoleteness of apparel is wanting to countenance a certain air of antiquity that runs through the piece, as well as sundry obsolete allusions it contains to the Pope, the Devil, and French gold. Bepides, antiquated costumes, as they would throw the scene more decidedly back into an earlier age, might haply give an historical air to its immorality also ; leaving us, in our scantier coverings, to conclude that such doings had a necessary connexion, and went out with broad flaps and low pocket-holes, and to bless ourselves at the profligacy of people who wore wigs and embroidery.

The thanks of the moral portion of the house are due to Miss CHESTER, for having made the somewhat lax but captivating wife as harmless as she could well become ;—more meritorious

in this than the original Mrs. Sullen, who having no such proper respect for virtue, usually made the most of her many charms and drove the nail quite up to the head. Yet even Mrs. OLDFIELD was apprehensive lest the final arrangement, which so frankly transfers Sullen's wife to Archer without the formality of a divorce, might

give umbrage to even a wigged and embroidered audience ; and

she is reported to have sent a message to FARQUHAR, then almost on his deathbed,requesting that the catastrophe might be amended. " Tell her," was his reply, " I wish she was married to me instead of Sullen, for then, without the trouble of a divorce, I would give her my bond, that she should be a widow within a few days :"- and the author kept his word, by dying ere his friends had done congratulating him on the brilliant reception of his play.