procession was conducted with great propriety, and gave general satisfaction. I had almost forgot to tell you that minute guns were fired upon this occasion. 66. To make this celebrity as complete as possible, a new Oratorio was performed yesterday in West Wycomb church. The words were selected by Mr. Arnold, and the music composed by Mr. Atter bury. The name of the Oratorio was Goliah. The choruses were grand, most of the airs very pleasing and sweet, particularly the following, Help us now, O Lord: O Lord, send us now prosperity. All the music was very well chosen and adapted to the words. The performers were too few to do justice to the music. A charming Concerto was performed on the Hautboy, between the first and second parts of the Oratorio, by Mr. Foster. The performance began at half past twelve, and continued till three. No tickets were required for admission: but every person genteely dressed was admitted into the church on giving something to the poor's Box.' A short Account of the Life, Writings, and Genius of the late Sir John Hill. Xtraordinary characters have been considered to hold up useful views of human nature; and that the late Sir John Hill was an extraordinary one, we believe, is not what his enemies deny. This gentleman was originally bred an apothecary, but marrying carly, and without a fortune, made, him very soon look round for other resources than his profession. Hay ing therefore, in his apprenticeship, attended the botanical lectures, which are periodically given under the patronage of the company, and being possessed of quick natural parts, he soon made himself acquainted with the theoretical, as well as practical parts of botany; from whence being recommended by the late D. of Richmond and Lord Petre, he was by them employed in the inspection and arrangement of their botanic gardens. Assisted by the liberality of these noblemen, he executed a scheme of travelling over several parts of this kingdom, to gather certain of the most rare and uncommon plants, which he afterwards published by subscription; but after great researches and uncommon industry, which he possessed in a peculiar degree, this undertaking turned out by no means either adequate to his merits or expectations. The stage next presented itself, as a soil in which genius might stand a chance of flourishing; but this plan (after two or three unsuccessful attempts at the Little Theatre, Hay-market, and the Theatre Royal, Covent-garden, at which last place he played the second Spirit in Comus) became abortive; it was found he had no pretensions either to the sock or buskin, which once more reduced him to his botanical advantages, and his business as an apothecary. In the course of these pursuits, he was introduced to the acquaintance of Martin Folkes and Henry Baker, Esqrs. both of the Royal Society, the former the late president, and thro' them to the literary world, where he was received, and entertained on every occasion with much candour and warmth of friendship; in short, he was considered by them as a young man of great natural and acquired knowledge, struggling with with a laudable assiduity to stem the tide of misfortune, and in this view was pitied and encouraged. At length about the year 1746 fat which time he had the trifling appointment of being apothecary to a regiment or two in the Savoy), he translated from the Greek a small tract, written by Theophrastus, on Gems, which he published by subscription; and, being well executed, gave him friends, reputation, and money. Encouraged by this, he engaged in works of greater extent and importance. The first he undertook was a General Natural History, in three volumes folio. He next engaged, in conjunction with George Lewis Scott, Esq; for a Supplement to Chambers's Dictionary. He at the same time started the British Magazine; and, at the time when he was engaged in a great number of these and other works, some of which seemed to claim the unique attention of a whole life, he carried on a daily essay under the title of Inspector. Amidst this hurry of business, where much enquiry and great attention were necessary, it may be thought to engross the whole of his time; but Mr. Hill was so laborious and ready in all the parts of his undertakings, and was at the same time so exact an œconomist of his time, that he scarcely ever missed a public amusement for many years. Here, indeed, he mixed the utile dulci, as, while he relaxed from the severer pursuits of study, he gleaned up many articles of information for his periodical works. There are not wanting many men, and some of them of emihence, who have pronounced Sir John Hill to be little better than a quack in his literary, as well as physical knowledge; but this judg ment, we must suppose, is inferred from the perusal of some of his publications, which are decided on as pieces of writing, without cons sidering the embarrassed situation of the author. As for those who knew, and will make allowances for the various literary engagements he has been embarked in, all at one time, mary of them sufficient for the labour of a long life, they will be astonished at the depth of his judgment, and the quickness and variety of his parts, and will be fully jusified in drawing this ge neral conclusion, that was he early in life possessed of a fortune suffi cient to chuse his favourite science, and had steadiness enough not to be diverted from it by pleasures, there can be little doubt of Sir John Hill holding a respectable rank in the annals of British literature. It would be an historical folio, instead of a newspaper essay, were we to trace Mr. Hill, now Dr. Hill (for he had taken his diploma from the college of St. Andrews) through all his various pursuits in life. In such a collection, the limits of a sketch will only point to select the most leading. Be it sufficient then to know, that from this successful period he started a man of fashion, kept his equipage, dressed, went into all polite companies, laughed at the drier studies, and in every respect claimed the character of the man of bon ton. His writings supported him for a while in all this; and notwithstanding the graver part of them were only compilations, and the lighter part what the copymoney could not be extraordinary, yet there is no doubt he made for several years, communibus annis, not less than 15001. A quar 1 1 1 A quarrel, however, he had had with the Royal Society, for being refused as a member, and the sterility of his genius, merely from be ing over exercised, after some time made him sink in the reputation of the public nearly in the same pace as he ascended. He found as usual, however, resources in his own invention. He applied himself to the preparation of certain simple medicines, such as the essence of water-dock, tincture of valerian, balsam of honey, &c. &c. The well-known simplicity of these medicines made the public judge favourably of their effects, (which we really believe are serviceable in many cases, inoffensive in all) insomuch that they had a rapid sale, and once more enabled the Doctor to figure away in that stile of life ever so congenial to his inclination. Soon after the publication of the first of these medicines, he obtained the patronage of the Earl of Bute, through whose interest he acquired the management of the Royal Gardens at Kew, with an handsome salary; and to wind up the whole of so extraordinary a life, having a little before his death, presented an elegant set of his botanical works to the present king of Sweden; that Monarch, in return, invested him with one of the orders, of his court, which title he had not the happiness of enjoying above two years. Anecdotes of Signiora Gabrieli, the celebrated Opera Singer. By Mr. Brydone and Mr. Wraxhall. R. Brydone saw this lady at She is, says he, certainly the great est singer in the world; and those that sing, on the same theatre with her, must be capital, otherwise they never can be attended to. This indeed has been the fate of all the other performers here, except Pacherotti; and he too gave himself up for lost, on hearing her first performance. It happened to be an air of execution, exactly adapted to her voice, which she exerted in so astonishing a manner, that, before it was half done, poor Pacherotti burst out a crying, and ran in behind the scenes; lamenting that he had been prevailed on to appear on the same stage with so wonderful a singer, where his small talents must not only be totally lost, but where he must ever be accused of a presumption, which he hoped was foreign to his character. It was with some difficulty they could prevail on him to appear again, but, from an applause well merited, both from his talents and his modesty, he his modesty, he soon began to pluck up a little courage; and, in the singing of a tender air, addres sed to Gabrieli in the character of a lover, even she herself, as well as the audience, is said to have been moved. The performance of Gabrieli is so generally known and admired, that it is almost needless to say any thing to you on that subject. Her wonderful execution and volubility of voice have long been the admiration of Italy, and have even obliged them to invent a new term to express it; and, would she exert herself as much to please as to astonish, she might almost perform the wonders that have been ascribed to Orpheus and Timotheus; but it repose of mankind, that her ca. price price is, if possible, even greater than her talents, and has made her still more contemptible than these have made her celebrated. By this means, her character has often proved a sufficient antidote both to the charms of her voice and those of her person, which are indeed almost equally powerful; but, if these had been united to the qualities of a modest and an amiable mind, she must have made dreadful havock in the world. However, with all her faults, she is certainly the most dangerous Syren of modern times, and has made more conquests, I suppose, than any one woman breath ing. It is but justice to add, that, contrary to the generality of her profession, she is by no means selfish or mercenary; but, on the contrary, has given many singular proofs of generosity and disinterestedness. She is very rich; from the bounty, as is supposed, of the last emperor, who was fond of having her at Vienna; but she was at last banished that city, as she has likewise "been most of those in Italy, from the broils and squabbles that her intriguing spirit, perhaps still more than her beauty, had excited. There is a variety of Anecdotes concerning her, that would not make an unentertaining volume: and, I am told, either are, or will soon be published. Although she is considerably upwards of thirty, on the stage she scarcely appears to be eighteen; and this art of appearing young is none of the most contemptible that she possesses. When she is in good humour, and really chuses to exert herself, there is nothing in music, that I have ever heard, at all to be compared to her performance; for she sings to the heart, as well as the fancy, when she pleases; and she then commands every passion with unbounded sway. But she is se'. dom capable of exercising these wonderful powers; and her caprice and her talents, exerting themselves by turns, have given her, all her life, the singular fate of becoming alternately an object of admiration and of contempt. Her powers, in acting and reciting, are scarcely inferior to those of her singing; sometimes a few words in the recitative, with a simple accompaniment only, produced an effect, that I have never been sensible of from any other performer; and inclines me to believe what Rousseau advances on this branch of music, which with us is so much despised. She owes much of her merit to the instructions she received from Metastasio, particularly in acting and reciting; and he has ever said, that she does more justice to his operas than any other actress that ever attempted them. Her caprice is so fixed and so stubborn, that neither interest, nor flattery, nor threats, nor punish ments, have the least power over it; and it appears, that treating her with respect or contempt have an equal tendency to increase it. It is seldom that she condescends to exert these wonderful talents; but most particularly if she imagines that such an exertion is expected. And, instead of singing her airs as other actresses do, for the most part she only hums them over, a mezza voice. And no art whatever is capable of making her sing, when she does not chuse it. The most successful expedient has ever been found to prevail on her favourite lover, for she always has has one, to place himself in the centre & the pit, or the front box; and if they are on good terms, which is seldom the case, she will address all her tender airs to him, and exert herself to the utmost. Her present inamorato promised to give us this specimen of his power over her; he took his place accordingly; but Gabrieli, probably suspecting the contrivance, would take no notice of him so that even this expedient does not always succeed. The Viceroy, who is fond of music, has tried every method with her to no purpose. Some time ago he gave a great dinner to the prin cipal nobility of Palermo, and sent an invitation to Gabrieli to be of the party. Every other person ar rived precisely at the hour of invitation. The Viceroy ordered dinner to be kept back for some time, and sent to let her know that the company waited her. The messenger found her reading in bed; she said she was sorry for having made the company wait, and begged he would make her apology, but that really she had entirely forgotten her engagement. The Viceroy would have forgiven this piece of insolence, but, when the company came to the opera, Gabrieli repeated her part with the most perfect negligence and indifference, and sung all her airs in what they call sotto voce, that is, so low, that they can scarcely be heard. The Viceroy was offended, but, as he is a good-tempered man, he was loth to make use of authority but at last, by a perseverance in this insolent stubbornness, she obliged him to threaten her with punishment, in case she any longer refused to sing. VOL. XVIII. 1775. On this she grew more obstinate than ever, declaring that force and authority should never succeed with her; that he might make her cry, but that he never could make her sing. The Viceroy then sent her to prison, where she remained twelve days; during which time she gave magnificent entertainments every day, paid the debts of all the poor prisoners, and distributed large sums in charity. The Viceroy was obliged to give up struggling with her, and she was at last set at liberty amidst the acclamations of the poor. Luckily for us she is at present in very good humour, and sometimes exerts herself to the ut most of her power. She says she has several times been on terms with the managers of our opera, but she thinks she shall never be able to pluck up resolution enough to go to England. What do you think is her reason? It is by no means a bad one. She says she cannot command her caprice; but, for the most part, that it commands her; and that there she could have no opportunity of indulging it for, says she, were I to take it into my head not to sing, I am told the people there would certainly mob me, and perhaps break my bones;-now I like to sleep in a sound skin, although it should even be in a prison.-She alleges too that it is not always caprice that prevents her from singing, but that it often depends upon physical causes; and this indeed I can readily believe: for that wonderful flexibility of voice, that runs with such rapidity and neatness thro' the most minute divisions, and produces almost instantaneously so great a variety of modulation, must surely F depend |