the necessary preparations for your departure;-take a hasty adieu of Serafina, and I will accompany you to Cadiz. We must set off in a very few hours. I will go and prepare for my journey, while you wait on my sister, and apprize her of your intended departure.

Don Gabriel hastened to Serafina: At last,' said he, we part, and for a long time; perchance for ever! I have received an order to join my regiment, and proceed with it to South America, where it will remain at least five years. To part with you certainly pains my heart in the most acute manner, notwithstanding all that volatility and caprice which have occasioned me so many uneasy moments. Could I leave you with the full persuasion of possessing your affections, the distance would vanish; the time, however anxiously its termination might be wished for, would be easily supportable. As it is, I have but too much reason to fear that this separation will prove eternal. I can scarcely Hatter myself that I have obtained your favourable opinion, much less that great object of my ambition, your affections-your heart. When I am gone, so slight is the hold I have of your regard and remembrance, that I must soon be forgotten. A crowd of admirers will succeed me, over whom you will exultingly display your power; till at length, with the gratification of your own caprice, you will condescend to make some lover, less truly affectionate, but far more fortunate than myself, superlatively happy.

The ardent manner, the tone of voice, the gesture with which Don Gabriel gave vent to his

expressions, especially when combined with the expectation of his immediate departure for so long a period, were too much for the feelings of Serafina. She could no longer dissemble, no longer act a part so contrary to her real sentiments.-She was constrained to unveil her heart- she burst into tears.'-Oh! Don Alvarez ! exclaimed she, my heart is yours, it has long been yours, even from the first moment I saw you; I now despise my own dissembling. I have been unworthy of you. But I cannot part from you without declaring what I really feel, and vowing to you eternal fidelity. Be assured that neither distance nor time can produce a change in my heart: yours I will be, and yours alone.

“

The ecstasy with which Don Gabriel heard this tender and sincere avowal cannot be described; it can only be imagined by those who have similar feelings, and have enjoyed similar happiness Now," exclaimed he, I can journey, enraptured, to the extremity of the world, if my country requires my service there. The immeasurable happiness I have this day enjoyed will recompense me for every hardship I may endure, for every danger I may encounter.'

At this moment Don Miguel entered, wrapped in his cloak, and ready to set out in company with his friend. Don Gabriel started up, and eagerly grasping his hand,

Congratulate me,' said he my dearest friend; my felicity is boundless-But let us go where honour calls have received a sacred vow-Neither time nor distance can diminish my happiness.'

Don Miguel, from the frantic joy of his friend, and perceiving his sister in tears, presently guessed

what had passed, and turning to Serafina What,' said he, 'your volatility and coquetry are subdued at last: they were not proof against the fear of a long separation. Well, you will now enjoy the pleasure of an unaffected sincerity, and as I have every reason to believe your repentance sincere, and that you will not relapse into your former folly, I will render the happiness of both of you still more complete if possible than it is.You will not have to suffer the separation you feared. The order which has occasioned this happy explanation is a fiction of mine: you, Don Gabriel, are neither required to join the regiment, nor is the regiment to go to South America. I had no doubt, my sweet sister, of the true situation of your heart, and was well convinced that a real fear of losing your lover would soon make you drop all disguise. I knew at the same time that my good friend Cabriel was totally incapable of dissimulation, and could never deceive you unless he were first deceived himself. I therefore practised this innocent imposition on you both, which has had all the success I could have expected from it. You now fully know the hearts of each other, and if you are wise you may be hap

I had the honour and happiness of associating in Amsterdam, are very amiable, thoroughly wellbred,well educated, speak English, French and German, and they are. very polite and courteous to strangers they are also remarkable for their attention to decorum and modesty. The unmarried, without prudery are highly virtuous; and the married present a pattern of conjugal fidelity. They are also very fond of dancing, particularly of waltzing; and they are much attached to English country dances, in which the most graceful Parisian belle seldom appears to any advantage.

cated by a female relation, who, by the father's desire, conceals from the young lady her real rank while supposing herself the daughter of a cottager, Claudine is addressed by Ignacio, a young officer, but the arts of Frederico, his rival, create a quarrel between the lovers. Ignacio joins his regiment abroad; Claudine, on the death of her relation, is sent to boa d in a convent; and all correspondence between her and Ignacio ceases. Four years are supposed to have elapsed (at the opening of the piece) since the separation of the lovers, at which time the Marquis Raimondi returns from his commercial speculations with a fortune which enables him to resume his rank; Claudine is made acquainted with her birth, and quits the convent for her father's palace. A day is set apart for the ceremony of the Marquis's public re-investiture and admission to his former honours, on which day Ignacio arrives from abroad, sees Claudine among the assembly, but imposed on by the brilliancy of her habit, and the alterations and improvements which four years of absence have effected, he does not suppose her the same lady, though he is forcibly struck with her resemblance to his favourite cottagerClaudine takes advantage of his situation, and with the assistance of Ursula, her waiting-maid, alternately appears to him as the young marchioness and the simple cottager, endeavours to attract him in each character, and has the satisfaction of proving at last that his love is disinterested, and that he prefers the poor Claudine to the rich heiress. Connected with the foregoing story are the loves of Antonia and Sebastian, who are friends of Ignacio and Claudine.

The characters of Martinique, Brazilio, Hector, and Ursula, furnish the materials for a minor plotHector and Ursula are cousins, whose uncle has left them a large sum of money on condition they marry together-to this arrangement they are equally averse, but the avarice of Hector determines him to comply with it, and enjoy the whole legacy, rather than divide it with Ursula-by a trick of Brazilio's, however, he is enlisted for a soldier, and the fair division of the legacy is the condition on which he is released.— Martinique is the attendant of Ignacio, who, before he sees Claudine at the assembly, sends him in quest of her to her former cottage residence; but Martinique having been let into the secret, that the young Marchioness is the very lady to whom he is sent, remains concealed, and joins his sweetheart Ursula, to aid her lady in the innocent deception practised on the count.-Jeronimo is an old civil officer of the city, who assumes to be deaf or blind as his convenience suits-and Frederico is a sea-captain, who having been formerly Ignacio's rival with Claudine, and seeing her again in her cottage habit, lays a plan to carry her off, and by rousing Ignacio to rescue her, hasteus his decision, and thus gives him an opportunity of proving himself worthy of her. The piece then concludes with the triple union of Ignacio and Claudine, Antonia and Sebastian, Ursula and Martinique.

This opera is the production of Mr. Dibdin, jun.; indeed, those who are at all acquainted with the manner of that dramatist, can by no means mistake the author.There is much bustle and action through the piece; the dialogue is lively

and spirited; and many of the incidents are very interesting. There is nothing very novel in the characters, but the story, which is from the Spanish, is so developed as to render it a very good vehicle for some very beautiful music. The songs were excellently adapted to the style of singing, and the powers of the respective performers.

ner.

The new music of this Opera is in all respects worthy of Mr. Shield, its tasteful and scientific composer. He has written bravura songs for Mrs. Dickons, Incledon, and Bellamy, in his most spirited style, and which were executed by these performers in as brilliant a manMrs. Dickons, who is become a polished singer, was never heard to so much advantage: most of her airs were rapturously encored; and Miss Bolton sung those allotted to her with delightful simplicity. The old airs are very judiciously adapted; and the overture, which is a masterly compesition, was universally admired and applauded.

In scenery, dresses, decorations, &c. &c. there was every thing to detain the eye-but the appeal to the ear was irresistible, and we hope the very flattering reception which Mr. Shield has received on his return to the theatre, will be of force to win from him additional gratification to the lovers of ge

nuine music.

standing in his way, said hastily,

Get out of the way, boy!' That boy, sir,' said the doctor, very calmly, is a post-boy, who never turns out of his way for anybody.'

MR. YOUNG,

[With his Portrait in the Character of Hamlet.]

the Manchester theatre, of which MR. YOUNG, who is from he is the manager, made his first in the character of Hamlet, at the appearance on a London stage little theatre in the Haymarket, on the 22d of June last. His fame

had preceded his arrival; but so ficult part he had chosen, that his complete was his success in the difHis voice is excellent, and he commerits appeared to be under-rated. mands it to any utterance. His judgment is sound, and his taste correct. His voice does not possess the compass to rant, were he so inclined, but it is peculiarly derness, in which it is remarkably adapted to the expression of tenfine. If he fails in any thing it is in the lighter parts, into which he sometimes does not infuse a suffi

cient degree of ease and playful

ness.

middle size, but well formed, and Mr. Young's figure is below the graceful in action. His counte nance is manly and expressive. Judging from it, his age might be supposed about forty, but we understand that he is little more than thirty. He has been married, but has buried his wife about a twelvemonth. He is at present engaged at Drury Lane, and the town is to be congratulated on the acqui sition of a performer of such intrinsic merit.

HARRIET VERNON;

OR,

A NOVEL.

In a Series of Letters.

BY A LADY.

(Continued from p. 525.)

LETTER XXXVI.

Mr.Wentworth to J. Johnson, Esq.

Bengal.

I HOPE that ere this my dear friend has received my long letter, dated from this place, in which I informed him of the happy change in my circumstances, I am even now scarcely recovered from my dream of surprise and joy, which such a discovery must occasion. I wrote a similar account to colonel Ambrose by the same ship that took my letter to you, and as no vessel can have yet arrived by which I can expect an answer, I will continue my narrative, knowing the warm interest you take in

my concerns.

I left in my last my good uncle writing to his daughter an account of her new-found cousin, and all the wonderful particulars of the affair; at the same time express ing a wish for her immediate re turn home. Just as he had finished writing, and I had, by his desire, perused his letter, the servant announced sir Philip Norton. A young gentleman of genteel appearance entered the room; my uncle shook him by the hand, and presented him to me, as his parti. VOL. XXXVIII.

Sir Philip took the letter, and I retired; for, as it contained some commendations in my favour, I felt, though highly gratified, a little embarrassed at its being read in my presence. In about half an hour I returned, when sir Philip congratulated me in such polite terms, that I became highly prepossessed in his favour, and returned his civilities in the best mamer I was able; at the saure time expressing a wish to be received into the circle of his friends. He told me he had seen miss Winstanley the day before, and would, if her father pleased, be the conveyer of his letter, and hoped to bring the young lady in a day or two. My uncle's carriage was ordered, and he set off to lord Amaranth's seat, about ten miles distant. When he was gone, my uncle informed me that he was a young gentleman of good character, fortune, and connections, whom my cousin had selected from a concourse of admirers to bestow her hand upon. The union, he said, met his hearty concurrence; but as his daughter was very young, only eighteen, he wished it to be deferred a year or two. I told him that I thought the young people were the best judges.

Some young women at eighteen are as steady, and know their minds as well, as others at thirty.

Your cousin,' said he, is not of that number: she is extremely volatile; and her unfortu'nate attachment to the Romish religion has given her a bad turn, I fear. My great hope is, that as 4 F