MARCH 8. felt compunction of the accused, contrasted with the unrelenting seve rity of the accusers, have, at all times, invited the hands of the best ar tists to try their sk ill. Titian, Tintoretto, Rubens, Rembrant, and some snore modern masters, attempted it, and succeeded according to their conception of the subject. The performance, under our consideration h a s a great deal of intrinsic merit. The figure of Christ is dignified; t h e woman is really sinking under the weight of her shame, and the accusers, whose features might have been more of a Jewish cast, express an uncommon eagerness for severity and punishment. The whole is pleasingly coloured. No. 54. St. John preaching in the Wilderness. By W. HODGSON.— Placed rather too high for a minute observer; this painting, however, evinces great efforts towards the perfection of historical painting. The composition is noble, and the colouring meets the eye with clearness and harmony. No. 52. The last Deposition of Schidoni. Radcliffe's Italian. By H. SAss.—The scene is well represented. The figures have their appro priate expressions; the gloom of the dungeon is correctly illumined; and, though small, this picture says much in favour of its author. (To be Continued.) DRAAIATIC REGISTER. COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE. The Dramatic Muse of our immortal Bard, Sun KSPEARE, does not always fly on even wings, and all his Dramas are not to be weighed in the same scale. Transcendent and free, his genius, like the bird of Jove, often soars up to the highest verge of the ethereal sphere, and imbibes above an incomparable sublimity of thought; and sometimes flutters in the valley, rases the even plains, and mixes there with beings much inferior to himself—indeed it is the same of every great mind, and the author of the Iliad and Odyssey, HOMER himself, is said to slumber at times; " aliquando bonus dormitat Homerus." The tragedy of Julius Casar, although in several passages it sparkles with the brightest rays of genuine pathos, and is stamped throughout with distinguishable marks of Shakspearian sublimity, eloquence, and wit, had long been laid on the shelf, as if to be read only by commentators, and profound literati,who seek vainly in printed texts that pleasure which the living representations of the Theatrical scene alone can afford. We onght, therefore, to thank most sincerely Mr. KErzBLE for his having revived this drama; it is not the first time that he has deserved the gra titude of the Public for this peculiar sort of service he has rendered us, and when we consider what exertions it must have required from him to restore it to the stage in a garb fit to meet the critic's eye, and to please the generality of the Public, our acknowledgments must increase in proportion. We are happy, however, to find that his effor is have been crowned with success, and that the testimony of public approbation was loudly uttered by as thronged an audience as we have ever wit nessed at that house. The three principal characters in the play were supported by most able actors; Mr. KEMBLE performed the part of Brutus; Mr. C. KEMBLE, that of Antony; and Mr. YOUNG assumed the character of Cassius. The first appeared with his usual transcendency of talents, but did not meet our full approbation in his delineation of t: "noblest Roman," of whom Antony says that— His life was gentle ; and the elements So niix'd in him, that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, This was a max The dignified serenity of the Senator, the placid benevolence of the man of letters, and the philosophic mind and stoic appearance of Cato's son-in-law, were too often eclipsed by the austere look, the haughty gait, and pedantic sententiousness of Mr. KEMB LE ; but his brother never received more meritedly the theatrical applause. His Antony was fairly pourtrayed, and were it not for his having partly mistaken the well-known passage, i‘ Brutus was an honourable man, so are they all, 4( e." which he pronounced with the decided feeling of acquiescence, when on the contrary, it is perhaps the bitterest stroke of irony riich eve? escaped the lips of an ambitious man who courts popu lar favours, we would have passed an unrestricted encomium upon the whole of his performance. Mr. YOUNG was not quite so successful, although in several parts, and chiefly in the dispute between Brutus and C.iss‘its, he 41isplayed his natural talents, and did fvll justice to the character. Ile ire cf mats Pte' OW . lead' r,_ THE. NATIONAL REGISTER. 155 In this Tragedy, as well as in Coriolanas, the Roman " rabblement" appear too thin and too scanty for the occ . sion ; their fluctuations, their running to and fro are merely ridiculous, and instead of adding to, detract from, the dignity of the scene. We doubt not but this-Drama will be often repeated, and rid, for sometime, il.e Thespian boards, of decrepid puns, stale j.•kes, musty sentimentalit y, and all such customers, which toe often intrude themselves upon the patience of the Public. Tuesday se'nnight a New Musical Piece, or Farce, bearing on its forehead the unauspicious name of Frost and Than', was represented tor the first time. The Scene lies in Sweden, and the Plot is made up of the distresses of two lovers, Christiana and Adolphus; • who, although separated by seas, find means to meet, and, unmindful of the severity of the Northern nights, sing duets and sigh madrigals, as comfortably as if they were on the genial shores of the Adriatic, or under the per fumed shade of orange-trees and rose-bushes, in the neighbourhood of Naples or Palermo. Count Stokai found in the buffoonry of Mr. Lis- TON, a considerable support ; and the absurdities of that character, en riched by the laughable drollery Gf the actor, threatened, at times, to melt the Frost that seemed to have congealed the hands of the audience, and to Thaw into laughter the long and ennui-struck faces of the specta tors; but it would not do.—The talents of Mrs. BISIIOP, the sweet warblings of SINCLAIR, and the comic spirit which flutters about the pleasing form of the vocal muse, and renders Miss FEitorr so interesting, could not warm the theatrical atmosphere. It was Frost indeed—but at last the whole was Thawed into loud, obstinate, and unrelenting hisses, till the curtain dropt, in the middle of every possible mark of disap probation. The Music is by Mr. T. CooKE of Dublin, and the piece is ascribed to the pen of Mr. IioLmAN. Some of the Songs wt.re favourably re ceived, and the following verses in particular, did nut want effect upoti the hearers : Sorc-4doi Thus. If not with her I'm blest, In vain I twine the bower; If not to deck her breast, In vain I rear the flower. Such seenes as these no joy can prove On earth no joy without my love. Awaken'd by the genial year, The warblers trill their lay ; The verdant fields bedeck'd appear With all the sweets of May. After the second representation, this After-piece was withdrawn, and condemned to merited oblivion. PRISON MEMOIRS OF LIVING GENIUS. No. V. MR. MUGNIE. Having now satisfactorily established the claims of this gentleman to be considered an English national composer of the first eminence, I shall resume the review of his productions in the order in which they origin. ally appeared. Encouraged by the reception which his .Marche des Roy daisies had met, and the encrease of patronage with which he was re warded, Mr. Mugnie next published a Grand Sonata, with accompani ments for a full band. In this piece he maintained his reputation. He not only displayed originality and effect, but deep science ; which, in deed, marks all his compositions and renders them as pleasing to the mind of the learned connoisseur, as they are to the public ear. Some parts of his music are in consequence found difficult by the indolent, who affect to despise beauties which it would cause them some exer tion to reach. But that difficulty is not real ;it exists chiefly in the mind of the player, and proceeds from some deficiency in its percep tions. For as EXPRESSION is the soul and life of Mr. Mugnie's compo sitions, the ear that cannot find that harmonious management of sounds, which produces all the effects of sudden or progressive nearness and dying distant falls, and the hand that runs with monotonous rapidity over the keys of an instrument, will fail to awake his brightest beauties. His music is like our language; wielded by ignorance, it grows coarse though still powerful, but dropping from the lips of taste and genius, it breathes refined elegance, extatic rapture. There are stutterers in har mony, as well as in speech. The Polacca movement in this Sonata is remarkably happy, and the accompaniments skilfully composed, and particularly well adapted to render the whole a strikingly grand instance