THE NATIONAL REGISTER although they may " mean no harm" in any particular ac 6 , 41 whether the world may not see harm in it; and to recollect that scandal is one of the most restless busy bodies society is cursed with; and also to consider, while they 44 r.:ean whe ther those in whose society they are way not, and themselves be betrayed by their own ingenuousness. Our Saviour has told us to " unite the wisdom of the serpent with the simplicity of the dove," clearly meaning, that our ingenuousness must he govern ed by Prudence, otherwise our virtue will be inevitably exposed to oppression, temptation, or censure. Prudence, in regard to our fortunes, is the practise of industry, economy, and honourable caution ; in regard to our health, ex ercise and temperar ce ; in regard to our reputation, endeavour ing to avoid censure ; and inard to our virtue, to avoid temptation, and to remember that the devil, who was an angel of light, can still take that form to deceive us. Weak minds may observe, that to live under a state of such . perpetual restraint, must render life miserable: but it should be eongidered, that 44 sc:lf denial" i 3 the soul of virtue, and if that self denial which I have recommended, is early and earnestly practisod, it eventually become the most permaslent source of pleasure ; but it is our misfortune in our pursuit of happiness, to consult passion inste.Al of reason ; and passion, like a spoiled child, will gratify itself at the expence of health. To the Fair, let me observe, Prudence is one of the greatest promoters of beauty, and a certain recommendation for the mar ried state; to the :cads of the crLation let me remark, that Pru &Tee will enable them to keep u 7 to their chai - acter, and attach more firmly to them that lovely sex, without whom life is a blauk (I have Adam's authority for it, and I believe that of all his sons, grandsons, and great grandsons); to the young of both Vtl:t f let me recommend Prudence in listening to and observing the prec( pis of the old, wliiic to .the old Ict me advise Pruthr-e in temp(!ring their inszructiens with kindness and consideration : to the single let me recommend that Prudence, that may win for them that attachment they would seek; and to the married, Pru dence to accommodate themselves to each others imperfections , and studiously to unite to defeat the purposes of those seducer; who would embitter their cup of naptiness, and in setting their children such an example as may rnAt. , : them a blessing to their old age ; to the great and the wise, ha me recommend Prodenc:: in governing and instructing, that their law may be that of de- light, and their precept that of pleasure ; to the int.:rior elders ;,:nd illiterate, let me advise Prudence in obeying with chcartul ness, and listening so as to profit by it: upon the middling, and I think happiest ranks of life, let m•• iinpress Prudence in esti mating jutly th it enviable situation in sociezy. and in preserv ing their integrity from contamination, by imitating the vices and follies of those above them, or in descery:ing to the indeli cacies of those below them ; and in fine, let me invite society at large to the exercise of that Prudence, which !nay lead them, • while practising self-denial individually, to make eharit;:ble al lowance for their neighbours; and by inculcating honour an-1 oc nevolence by separate example, produce that genera! compact of brotherly love and integrity, that. will make the nation go art and hand together in defeating both our temporal and eternal foes. A LAYMAN. • JULY 17, 1811. VAUXHALL. All the world and his wife are or tiptoe to set off for this rural scene of fascination on the approaching Reßalla, which talz . .s place on Wednesday next. Every accominwiation pos.Able we understand, nnk:r.g for the expected overflow of company, so that even an env:ous shower can only drive them from the shady covert of the vocal grove, to the livelier shelter of archi- tectural elegance, where 'iClidst all the brilliancy of rotundas and corridores, the sylvan deltic s oldie scene slay add the brillian: y of sparkling eyes to the vivid glare of the enlivening and daz zling lustres, " enchanting and enchanted in the mazy round !" The following Nobility were among the company en Fri(lay . night :—Spanish Ambassador, Duke of Grafton, Earl of Weq snorland, Countess of - Wetrnorlard, Earl of Egvernont, Earl of Oxford, Countess of Oxford, Lord Arden, Lord Palmerstone, Lord EustOn, Lady Fane, Lord Dam, Lord Ch:nbervi,!, Lord Dysart, Lord Alvan:el, Lady Alvanky, Lord Gr..ntlis Lord - Coleraine, Lord Mount Cashel, Lord Yardley, Lady Arian ) Su Rama Wilson, General Wynyard, &c. MIA MATIC REGISTER. ENGLISH OPERA. ' An heroic, tragic, operatic Drama, which had long been in preparation, was performed on Thursday at the Lyceum, callel Quadrupeds, or the .Manager's Last IC;ck ; partly founded on ancient dramas, and applied .to modern events, with old scenes and nett , animals (being their first appearance on that or any :,tage.)!!!" This Drama, we are given to understand in the piece itself, is brought forward by a Manager to •gratify the prevailing rage for four-footed performers, and because he finds the attractions which his 1 heltre had boasted till now, those of human nature, wit, and humour, would draw foil houses no longer. All this is so feelingly stated, that I cannot help thinking there must be a something in it. I really conceive it to be probable that the author while writing it, really thought it was true. The fact I believe to be, Mr. ARNOLD (who is said to have fur nished that part which is given as original), found his theatre rather thinly attended. .111171E111 nature, ivit, and hu»unir (in The Americans) were all disregarded by the tasteless multitude for the horses at Covent-garden. It was to no purpose that he performed that beautifid Opera, the last production of his muse, for a whole fortnight; such was the degenerate state of the public mind, that even that failed to reclaim them, and though ail reflections on " that respectable class of persons the Quakers were carefully done away, still that sacral ! instructive ! witty natural drama! was unfortunately performed to empty benches. In this state of things the Manager of the Lyceum thinking he had to complain of a kick from the horses, determined to have a rut at them. With this feeling Mr. A. is supposed to have up his pen for the purpose of turning the laugh against the Covent-garden Managers. aquitever may be said of the execution of this plan, it is certainly impossible to give too much praise to the deign of the bald Satirist for his laudable e'Aleavours at reforming the public taste, and for his intre pidity in thus nobly opposing the tide of popular folly, for the I.urposc of putting those out of countenance who bring forward such silly pieces as Blue Beard, and Tirnour, at Covent-garden' that the lovers of the drama might again he taught to enjoy such classic performance's as The 4,nericans, the Maniac, and Up .A%ht, at the Lyceum. The piece thus produced, opens with a scene in which the Manager, Prompter, &c. of a theatre are introduced as being in great distress. A bailiff enters in the disguise of a country. man to arrest the Manager, but he is presently put out of tfie way by a stage trick. A number of duns next wait 'on him, to whom, as he knows not how to escape them, the MaHagtr offers his person, or the profits of a plan which he has in his head. His plan is, to introduce Honkies on the stage, and to bring them forward in " The Tailors—a Tragedy for Warn; Weather." His creditors agree to wait the result of the experi ment. Several observations are made with respect to the pro priety of getting up this piece, and some compliments are be stowed on the Tailoring profession to guard against giving Of fence: to the members ,of that fraternity. This scene goes off very well, and the concluding mock pageant has a very good effect. " The Tragedy for Warm Weather" is then performed. Some of the scenes are emitted, and a number of songs are introduc ed. It i only the close of the tragedy which can boast any im portant addition. There the whole strength of the Theatre is called forth, and the stage is covered with horses, mules, and donkics. The strange appearance of these creatures, thus brought together, is heightened by some of them being fantastically painted so as to give them a caricature resemtiance to the Co vent-garden horses. These animals are mounted by the hostile Flints and Dunp. A dreadful battle talus place, in which the last sccne of "Blue Beard" is very successfully travatiel The