But, to return to our old favourite. All who remember him must likewise remember his powers of attraction ere this blight of _fashion_ had come over us. Witness his various benefits, and above all, that at the Opera House, producing, it is said, 1,500_l_. Such marks of public favour, added to the constant request of company, both public and private, and to a man who, like Incledon, _loved_ his art, were sure to be productive of _vanity_--vanity, the besetting sin of all great men, from Alexander on his Persian throne, to Mr. Kean enthroned in the Coal Hole.--His education had been limited. The songs chiefly in vogue at the early part of the late war were _nautical_, which led him to a bold, free style; these were his faults--vanity, want of cultivation, and a freedom of manner approaching to excess. But he had a qualification as a singer which threw all these into shade. The "Spectator," I believe, somewhere says it is necessary for a good dancer to have a good understanding; but I think it is much more necessary for a good singer to have a _good and feeling heart_; and whether singing or acting his part in the drama of life, with family, friends, or brother (not forgetting sister) performers, Charles Incledon had as warm a heart as ever beat. I cannot completely effect my purpose of reminding the public of what they have lost in this fine singer, without recurrence to the songs in which he earned his fame. "Pleasant is the recollection of the joys that are passed," says Ossian; and what a delightful store-house of melody is opened by the remembrance of these songs! At the head of the list, in unapproachable beauty, stand his "Black-eyed Susan," "Storm," "Old Towler," and "Lads of the Village;" songs which few voices can attempt, and none dare hope to equal him in. Then, as operas, we had first his Macheath, a part in which, notwithstanding what has been said of his slovenly acting, I think him unequalled. His was the voice to burst forth in the rich melodies of that _equivocal_ piece--_he_ was the _gentleman_ who, if ruined by excess, could become the _highwayman_--his was the dashing, manly style to ensnare either a Polly or a Lucy. Poor Macheath is now emasculated, because _no man_ has voice to sing his songs. I have heard Mr. Young has played the part, and "report speaks goldenly" of his singing, and I deeply regret not having heard him. I understand he sings Moore's melodies better than any body; and think it likely, from the few "snatches" I have heard him give. By the bye, excepting the hurried, thick utterance of Incledon when speaking, there is great resemblance, as far as regards voice, between that singer and Mr. Young.