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and spirited; and many of the in- standing in his way, said hastilr, cidents are very interesting. There • Get out of the way, boy !' • That is nothing very novel in the cha- boy, sir,' said the doctor, very racters, but the story, which is calmly, “, is a post-boy, who never from the Spanish, is so developed turns out of his way for any body.' as to render it a very good vehicle for some very beautiful music. The songs were excellently adapted to
MR. YOUNG, the style of singing, and the powers of the respective performers. [With his Portrait in the Cha
The new music of this Opera is in racter of Hamlet.) all respects worthy of Mr. Shield,
MR. YOUNG, who is from its tasteful and scientitic compo- the Manchester theatre, of which ser. He has written bravura songs he is the manager, made his first for Mrs. Dickons, Incledon, and
a London stage Bellamy, in his most spirited style, in the character of Hamlet, at the and which were executed by these little theatre in the Haymarket, on performers in as brilliant a man
the 22d of June last. His fame ner. Mrs. Dickons, who is be- had preceded his arrival ; but so come a polished singer, was never complete was his success in the difheard to so much advantage: most ficult part he had chosen, that his of her airs were rapturously en- merits appeared to be under-rated. cored; and Miss Bolton sung those His voice is excellent, and he comallotted to her with delightful sim- mands it to any utterance. His plicity. The old airs are very judi- judgment is sound, and his taste ciously adapted; and the over
correct. His voice does not posture, which is a masterly compe
sess the compass to rant, were he sition, was universally admired
so inclined, but it is peculiarly and applauded.
adapted to the expression of tenIn scenery, dresses, decorations, derness, in which it is remarkably &c. &c. there was every thing to fine. If he fails in any thing it is detain the eye—but the appeal to in the lighter parts, into which he the ear was irresistible, and we sometimes does not infuse a suffihope the very flattering reception cient degree of ease and playfulwhich Mr. Shield has received on his return to the theatre, will be
Mr. Young's figure is below the of force to win from him additional middle size, but well formed, and gratification to the lovers of ge- graceful in action. His counteQuine music.
nance is manly and expressive.
Judging from it, his age might be ANECDOTE or Dr. LONG.
supposed about forty, but we un
derstand that he is little more than DR. ROGER LONG, the thirty. He has been married, but famous astronomer, walking one has buried his wife about a twelvedark evening with a gentleman in month. He is at present engaged Cambridge, and the latter coming at Drury Lane, and the town is to a short post fixed in the pave to be congratulated on the acqui. ment, which in the earnestness of sition of a performer of such inconversation he took to be a boy trinsic merit,
cnlar friend ; then giving into his
hand the letter which was yet unHARRIET VERNON; sealed You are coine,' said he,
' in good time to save me the OR,
trouble of telling you a long story CHARACTERS FROM REAL LIFE. which you may there peruse.'
Sir Philip took the letter, and I A NOVEL
retired; for, as it contained some In a Series of Letters.
coinmendations in my favour, I
felt, though highly gratified; a BY A LADY.
little embarrassed at its being read
in my presence. In about half an (Continued from p. 525.) hour I returned, when sir Philip
congratulated me in such polite
terms, that I became highly preLETTER XXXVI. possessed in his favour, and return
ed his civilities in the best mamer Air.Il'entworth to J. Johnson, Esq. I was able; at the sanre time ex
pressing a wish to be received into
Bengal. the circle of his friends.He told I HOPE that ere this my dear me he had seen miss Winstanley Friend has received my long letter, the day before, and would, if her dated from this place, in which I father pleased, be the conveyer of informed him of the happy change his letter, and hoped to bring the in my circumstances, I am even young lady in a day or two. My now scarcely recovered from my uncle's carriage was ordered, and dream of surprise and joy, which he set off to lord Ainaranth's seat, such a discovery inust occasion. I about ten miles distant. When wrote a similar account to colonel he was gone, my uncle inforined Ambrose by the same ship that me that he was a young gentleman took my letter to you, and as no of good character, fortune, and vessel can have yet arrived by connections, whom my cousin had which I can expect an answer, I selected froin a concourse of admirwill continue my narrative, know- ers to bestow her hand upon. The ing the warm interest you take in union, he said, met his hearty conmy concerns.
currence; but as his daughter wa's . I left in my last my good uncle very young, only eighteen, he writing to his daughter an account wished it to be deferred a year or of her new-found cousin, and all two. I told hin that I thought the wonderful particulars of the the young people were the best affair; at the same time express judges. Some young women at ing a wish for her innmediate re eighteen are as steady, and know turn home. Just as he had finished their minds as well, as others at writing, and I had, by his desire, thirty. perused his letter, the servant • Your cousin,' said he, is announced sir Philip Norton. A not of that number : she is exyoung gentleinan of genteel ap- tremely volatile; and her unfortulpearance entered the room; my 'nate attachment to the Romish uncle shook him by the hand, and religion has given her a bad twn, presented him to me, as his partie I fear. My great hope is, that is
sir Philip is a protestant, he may most charming vivacity, but I reform her. Alas! it is not in my felt impatient to see you. Sir power, every thing that vexes me Philip knows I have talked of gives her pleasure.
nothing but you the whole way.' Nay, sir,' replied I, “she has Sir Philip smiled, and confirmed not in the material point, the her assertion. You may suppose choice of a husband, run counter I said all that politeness could dicto your wishes.'
tate on the oceasion, and in a few • It is the only thing,' said he, minutes my fair cousin and I were • I ever knew her fail in. If I perfectly well acquainted, and enwish her to stay at home, she goes grossed most of the conversation. out; if I wish her to go out, she The old gentleman seemed to stays at home; and so on. But I regard us with much satisfaction, love her as I do myself. She has and it was hard to say which felt many suitors and admirers where- the happiest. Sir Philip seemed ever she goes.'
not so perfectly at ease. He, lover • We will excuse, then,' re- like, did not wish his mistress's plied 1, her vanity: universal attention to be so wholly engrossed! admiration is too apt to create it from hinself. I saw his dissatisin the most sensible minds.' faction, and proposed a walk in the
My curiosity to see this lady gardens. There we entered into was now wound to the highest general discourse on England and pitch. The next day I was re its customs; and my young cousin joiced to see her alight from the made many remarks which concarriage with sir Philip, who led vinced me that she had a good her into the room, where was my understanding joined to a playuncle and myself ready to receive fulness of disposition, at her years her. Now for a poet's pen to den not unpleasing. She says many scribe a complete Venus! but as witty things unwittingly, as I may I am not a poet, nor the lady a express it; for she does not give complete Venus, I crave your ex- herself time to think, and it must cuse for the omission. I will, how- be a very good heart and head not ever, inform
you, that my cousin to err sometimes by such volubiis the most beautiful girl I ever lity and spirits. I believe, rather saw, and wants nothing but a good than lose her repartee, she would shape to make her perfectly lovely. affront her best friend. I plainly I will venture to say, no one that see she is a coquet too; and poor ever looked in her face regretted sir Philip, who I think is really that she was not quite so tall or fond of her, often looks grave, and straight as a painter would wish knows not what to think of her her; and, I can speak for myself, behaviour. One hour all comit was some hours before I could plaisance, the next hiding berself take my eyes from her countenance and sighing, as she says, for her to observe her figure. Her father dear lady Amaranth, and declaring embraced her with transport, and a resolution to take the veil. This presented her to me, with joy lady Amaranth is daughter of a lord sparkling in his eyes. I told her Amaranth, an Irish family come I had waited for that moment with here about two years since, on the impatience.— I know nothing of decease of a brother who left large you, good sir,' said she, with a propertyThey are to return to
Ireland when the affairs are settled. some European ladies. I was much This gentleman's house my cousin entertained, but at the same time often goes to, and a violent friend- sorry to see so many of my lovely ship is formed between the young countrywomen exposed to sale at a ladies : all the family are zealous market, as I may call it: to say the catholics, and, I suppose, found it best of it, it is indelicate and disno very difficult task to convert my gusting. Had they heard the resprightly cousin. This young lady marks and witticisms uttered at Amaranth having lost by death a their expense by the ungracious favoured lover, a few weeks before bidders, I am certain they would their nuptials were to take place, have quitted the room. They must became so overwhelmed with grief be well recommended to respectthat she formed a resplution to take able families, or they would stand the veil. Her family and my cou a bad chance for their matrimonial sin are concerned at it; but the success; and I ain informed that friendship of the latter is so strong, if they refuse the first offer, have that she frequently expresses a wish little chance of a second, unto accompany ner'in her retire- less their persons and manners are ment. Fler father and lover are above mediocrity; and many there. territied with the idea; but I can are who die, or return to England discover very plainly, nothing is without their errand. I was intromore remote from her intentions, duced to several, and being now or less congenial to her disposition. looked on as a young nian of My cousin has received the best consequence, I dared not behave education this country can afford, gallantly, for fear of raising false but it falls short of that bestowed hopes. O ye fair votaries of ambion the higher rank of females in tion! think of the little chance ours. My uncle has taken pains to you give yourselves for happiness, instruct her in useful knowledge, when, by leaving your country in: and has, in a good degree, suc- quest of a rich husband, you receeded; more from her quickness nounce friends, sentiment, and of parts than attention; for she is delicacy, the bulwarks on which so extremely giddy that it is diffi- true happiness are built. But you cult to fix her attention to any will laugh at my rhapsody; it arose subject. She dances well, and has. naturally to my mind on sight of a good ear for inusic; but for want: the fair victims. of proper masters will never excel. As I know you dislike the subUpon the whole she is a charming ject of business, and I may add,' woman, and was she introduced in would not understand it, I will not England, would draw a crowd of trouble you with explaining the admirers. My uncle is not fond of nature of my uncle's. I have the her forming acquaintance with the happiness to grow daily in his faEnglish ladies; he thinks (and invour and affection, and feel myself my opinion very justly) they must much attached to him; I have only be devoid of delicacy ere they to regret that his health is such, could quit their native country in that I fear his life will not be long quest of a husband, whose fortune, continued. But of course whilst perhaps, only could make him ac- he lives I shall not revisit England. ceptable. I attended a ball some I do not like this country, and time since, given on the arrival of shall reside in it no longer than is
necessary, Can I ever be thauk- nents, and bury myself alire in a ful enough to that Providence for convent. No, no, my good sir, throwing me in the way of the only that will never be the case, though relation I had? What a singular I love sometimes to frighten you and happy lot is mine! The cir- and sir Philip with the threat. cumstances are so extraordinary Why these fathers, wise as they as scarcely to gain belief. Thus would be thought in the manage blessed and thus situated, ought ment of their daughters, are I to entertain any sentiment but strangely oat sometimes. · We all gratitude Is it not eriminal to love contradiction; as for me, it is sigh, or suffer a repining thought? my chief delight. Were I ordered I blush to write I ain not happy, to write to you, I should hate it but from my friend I will conceal of all things; or, had I been comnothing. Ah, Johnson! ere this manded, with the sterndess of pacolonel' Ambrose is blessed with rental authority, to be a Roman the hand of miss Vernon, the only catholic, I should have remained a woman in which my happiness is protestant, and so on in a hundred centered. Time and distance has instances. Now it is my firm opinot erased her from my memory nion, if I and the rest of your and affections. I am now in a friends had not have made such a situation to ask her hand, and rout about your taking the veil, from a thousand circumstances I you would at this time have been conjecture it might have been tiguring away at a .ball, and—but accepted; but she is lost to me; hold, I must not touch on this tormenting thought ! --and it is topic, lest I should make you now criminal to think of her. Had angry.--You desired me, when I I but risked an avowal of my pas- took leave of you, to send you 3 sion before I left her! But yet I full account of my new-found cannot on reflection blame myself! relation; I comply the more reaHow could I with honoar act dily, because he is a fine, handotherwise? I would fly froin the some, young fellow, and really subject, but my pen will not find worth writing about. It would another. I expect the next ships have been horrid provoking to will bring me a confirmation of the have had a stupid, plain, English colonel's marriage. O fortune! monkey rise from the dead and thou art but half kind! Impious run away with half one's fortune; observation ! I recall it, and con- but as it is, I have no objection to clude with subscribing myself your alteration in wills, as you know ever faithful friend,
I value not money.--Well, but CHARLES WentWORTH. the picture of this charming fel
Tow, and first his name-Charles
Wentworth, about twenty-five, LETTER XXXVII. very tall, with the handsomest leg
you ever saw; a inanner peculiarly Miss IV instanley to Lady Amaranth. graceful. Sir Philip, you know,
is thought graceful and elegant in FORBIDDEN to write to my his deportment and address, but dearest, my only friend! what does he is nothing to him, I assure you. my father mean? Why truly he His face I think not so completely is afraid I shall adopt your senti- handsome as his figure ; but his