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diant beams can cheer the gloomy heart; its lenient balm can soothe the wounded mind.

Hope is a lover's staff; walk off with that, And manage it against despairing thoughts." SHAKSPEARE.

Try what absence will effect: doubtless it will tend in a great measure to wean your mind from the object of your idolatry; and Time with his sponge will erase from the tablet of your heart all the fond characters which youthful fancy inprinted there.

But if, contrary to my friendly remonstrances, you at last fall a victim to the soft infatuation, I will tim to the soft infatuation, I will pen your epitaph, drop a poetic tear over your ashes, summon the Loves and the Graces, and invoke Cupid to come, and break his arrows, and tear his rosy chaplet. I will in vite the queen of the fairies, with her train of tiny invisibles, to strew your grassy turf with flowers. A disconsolate red-breast shall sing a requiem to your departing spirit, a widowed dove shall coo a funeral

dirge, and a love-lorn damsel shall

JOHN WEBB.

plant a violet on your tomb. Haverhill, July 24, 1807.

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THE father of Frank Woodland leaves his estate mortgaged to the elder Mr. Grumley, to redeem which the amount of a debt due from Gaa sum is bequeathed in addition to briel Invoice, a dishonest speculator, who not only eludes payment of what he already owes, but fleeces' Frank Woodland of his remaining inheritance. The young man is by his villainy not only reduced to live on the fruits of his education, but obliged to resign his pretensions to Sylvia Conroy, a young woman of large fortune, whom he had addressed under an idea that he would possess property of his own by the redemp tion of his father's mortgage.

Mr. Grumley, who holds Frank WoodThis lady has two other suitors land's estate; and Mr. Verdiet, a

foppish, but persevering, attorney.

The first she dislikes for the bruta

lity of his manners, and for his folly in trying to conceal a low but honest origin; and the other is detected in having broken a promise of marriage to Mrs. Hall, a widow in business, who meets and circumvents her faithless lawyer at every oppor~~~ tunity he takes to address Sylvia.

Commodore Convoy and Mr. Convoy are brothers, and joint guardians to their niece Sylvia. The commodore's carriage, on his return from a distant command, breaks down; and this accident is taken advantage of by a stranger, who, while the servants are gone for another chaise, attempts to rob the Commodore: the latter resists, when the opportune entrance of Frank Woodlund prevents the robber, and discovers him to be the fraudulent Gabriel Invoice, who had plundered Frank of his fortune, lost it at the gaming

table, and hearing the Commodore mention that he travelled with a considerable sum, had adopted the rash resolution of retrieving his own broken fortune at the Commodore's expence, and without in the least suspecting that the Commodore is his near relation, whose very long residence abroad prevents their knowing each other.

The wife of Gabriel Invoice, and her infant, are both deserted by him, and left to experience the resentment of his creditors. Commodore Convoy is at this time bringing home a large bequest from India, which is left solely and independently to Gabriel's wife, and out of which she restores Frank Woodland the property her husband had defrauded him of Frank having been the only one of Gabriel's claimants who, in his resentment to the husband, had not forgotten to commiserate the wife.

Old Mannerly has been a village schoolmaster, but is reduced to toil as a gardener, by the oppression of his landlord Grumley, who sends the old man's son, Tom Mannerly, to sea, on a false charge of peculation, be cause the youth had refused to marry Grumley's neglected mistress, and because Tom had resented the 'Squire's ill usuage of Fanny Freemun, an interesting girl, between whom and Tom there is a reciprocal affection. Betty Barnes, a most communicative landlady, is the cousin and protectress of Fanny Freeman; they both reside at the village inn, where several of the events of the play take place. The scenes in this inn are much enlivened by Richard, a rustic waiter, whose blundering • Errors,' produce some material incidents. Frank Woodland having rather warmly expostulated with Grumley on his treatment of the tenantry, a quarrel ensues, and Frank is put in custody by the vindictive Squire, for an assault. Sylvia Con

voy at this time confesses her regard for Frank, and asks her guardian's permission to marry him; but an equivoque ensues, by which the Commodore supposes she means Gabriel Invoice instead of Frunk, and, of course, refuses to give his niece to a highwayman. The imprisonment of Frank seems to strengthen this supposition, till an ecclaircisement takes place, by which every thing is set right. Sylvia weds Frank, Tom marries Fanny, the Lawyer keeps his promise to the Widow Hall, the Squire is obliged to receive the acquittance-money for the mortgage of Frank's estate; and, some few Errors Excepted,' all the parties are suitably recompensed.

It will be seen by this sketch, that this piece, the author of which is Mr. T. Dibdin, to whom the public are indebted for some mirthful hours, is rather a light summer comedy than a regular and well-finished drama. It is accordingly written in a style suited to its temporary purpose: it is full of playing upon words-puns-contrived mistakesmisconceptions-marvellous, if not unnatural, incidents, &c. &c. merchant is asked why he failed in business when he had no business to fail; and, speaking of the passengers of the mail coach, all the mail is said to be fe-males: The comedy, however-Errors Excepted-is certainly an agreeable summer amusement.

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The performers deserve much praise. Mr. Young rendered Frank Woodland manly and interestingFawcett's Commodore Convoy was active and pleasant, although we cannot think but the author might have contrived so as to give the powers of the actor a scope more peculiar to his style-Matthews's Verdict was pertinent and comicalListon's grimaces set the house in a roar-Chapman's Old Mannerly was

well cast and played-Carles's Invoice was a good representation of the villain-and Decamp, in Young Mannerly, grinned as prettily, and looked as well, as he could.-With regard to the ladies, the merits of Mrs. Litchfield equal any praise which we can bestow-Mrs. Gibbs appeared now and then in her very best manner, although we regret that the author has not given her more for the exercise of her valuable talents-And Mrs. Liston's Mrs. Hall had every commendation, and warbled her song charmingly.

The Prologue (which we have given in the Poetry), was well pointed, and told with good effect, by the excellent delivery of Mr. Young. The Epilogue was, perhaps, better written, very appropriately drawn, and admirably spoken by Mrs. Litchfield, whose powers we never before witnessed on such an occasion. They are valuable, and ought not to lie dormant.

The house was crowded by all the gay, fashionable, and critical, in town; and the comedy was given out for a second representation with the loudest plaudits.

line of his profession. Of the various duties of a hair-dresser of eminence, none excites more anxious concern than that of turning his abilities to the most profitable account for himself, and most for the happiness of others.

THE citizens generally of all parties are respectfully invited to partake of a barbacue, on Saturday next, at the Spring on Monocasy, near Storer's White-house Tavern, two miles from Frederic, on the Lancaster road. The candidates are all respectfully requested to attend, as it is expected there will be a political discussion, that the people may then have an opportunity of being fully informed on public subjects, by hearing both sides face to face, in an open and fair manner.

And spirit give to ev'ry native grace;
My art can lend new beauties to the face,
The magic of the mind 'tis I impart:
But for my skill in the cosmetic art,
What were the proudest dame?'

THE brilliant talents and acquirements of Henry J. Hassey, whose residence is at No. 123, Front street i and whose unrivalled merits, like the blaze of a comet, throw a glory round the general prospect, which renders

CURIOUS ADVERTISEMENTS from visible the common herd of frizeurs, AMERICAN PAPERS.

(From Janson's 'Stranger in America.')

JOHN Richard Deborous Higgins, ladies hair-dresser, from New York, takes the earliest opportu nity to inform the ladies of Philadelphia, that, in compliance with earnest and reiterated entreaties, he has arrived at this city, and intends to make it the place of his residence long enough to develope character and design; or, in other words, he means to employ some days to the best employment of his talents in the

are universally acknowledged; but the visibility of .that herd is very evanescent, and when seen, are no more to be regarded by the side of the grand luminary than the constellation of smaller lights encircling the moon when in full-orbed splendor. In the classical language of ancient Rome, Henry J. Hassey shines among the candidates for notoriety in his profession,

Velut inter ignos Luna minores.
With me, presumptuous miscreants, do ye

vie,
The brush and razor only doom'd to ply?
Of paltry caxons mounted on your blocks,"
Or haply to revive the rotten locks

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PERUSE the fairest page, and still you'll An Author's like a Merchant, and his Play

trace,

That error is the lot of human race;

E'en with the best, at Nature's last
Errors excepted, the account must
No living man without some folly made is:
And tho'stern truth wont even spare the ladies,

et to their lot should trifling errors fall,
Look in their faces, you'll except them all!'
Wisdom herself may err as well as Wit,
Law's writ of error is not bely writ.
The Doctor too has faults, but, happy lot,
Physic's faux pas, when buried, are forgot!
In seeking Fortune's all-desir'd abode,
We meet cross paths of error on the road.
Placarded invitations meet the eye
At every turn, with Now's your time to
buy,'

And the mysterious charm of B. C. Y.;
All to insure you, when the wheel goes
round,

Of blanks excepted, ninety thousand pound.
Authors to critical exceptions bow;
And Critics candidly must allow,

That, while they lash the faults of scribbling elves,

Twere well from error to clear themselves. To you (to the Audience) whose approbation to

obtain

Our bard has sought, and sometimes not in

vain;

His cause he offers, as at Mercy's shrine,
To err is human-to forgive, divine :'
Let Mercy's influence, then, your bosoms

sway;

Except his errors, but acerpt his play.

The bark in which is lodg'd his precious

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rogue,

I knew not how to speak an Epilogue-
But here I am on deck, and thus before ye,
I'll try in Sailor's language to implore ye:
For, though I never stirred a foot from shore,
I've learnt some lessons from the Commodore.
So as a
Convoy, though no man of war,
Let me look out, and see how matters are.

And first I'll try my soundings in the Pit; Lurks there no rock on which our brig may split?

No quicksands, shoals, or flats, nor no leeshore,

Where many a vessel has been wreck'd

before?

In yonder quarter (upper end of the Pitflo! a storm seems brewing

That threatens to involve us all in ruin;
A ship prepares for action-ah! beware,
An enemy has ta'en his station there--

His name is Critic-'tis, I see him now,
I know him by the Gorgon at his prow;
A heavy sailer, but his fire is galling,
And no one ventures near without a mauling:
His head all snakes-no wonder that the shot
Sent from his cannon comes so hissing hot:
See how he lowers his jib-nay,do not frown,
Nor cut our rigging up-nor run us down.
(To the Front Boxes) That in the offing there
is call'd the Rover,

Who never fights but when he's half-seas

over;

And is well known on our dramatic ocean
By his rough sailing and unsteady motion.
He has but just left port, for well I wot
His upper works are damag'd by grape-shot.
Two other signs he has, howe'er he got 'em,
A head well brazen'd, and a copper bottom
(pointing to the beels).

(To the Gallery) But you, my honest friends, stow'd in the shrouds,

Who speak in thunder from your birth, the clouds;

You, like true sailors, never hardly press
When you behold a vessel in distress,
For well you know, who rule the subject

wave,

When it is time to punish, when to save-
Eager the haughty open foe to bend,
As to chastise a neutral hollow friend:
If our ship's crazy, take her into tow,
Safely she'll sail under your weather bow;
For should she prove, alas! a cast-away,
Our bard's third night will be a banyan day.
(To the Side Boxes)-Ladies, between decks,
if your favouring gales

You lend to fill the Poet's trembling sails,
His summer voyage won't turn out a dream;
His boat sails freely both with wind and
stream;

Early the Critic sea she's wafted o'er,
And gains triumphantly the wish'd-for shore.
I'll to the Author, and dispel his fear,
And say, his goods have found a market
here;

I'll say, too, for I think I guess aright,
Here you will rendezvous to-morrow night.

THE SUICIDE.

WHEN Twilight drew her mantle o'er,
And Day clos'd up his golden door,
My musing, solemn way I took
Where craggy rocks a stream o'erlook;
The dismal Owl, with hollow voice,
Proclaim'd that darkness was her choice;
The Fox, with prowling fearful mien,
Now pac'd the dewy, silent, green,
With hopes in sleep to catch his foes;
How like a murdering wretch he goes!
In peace the peasant takes his rest;
With visions fair may he be blest!
Contentment fans his rosy face,
On her attends each blooming grace:
He sleeps, the man by Heaven chose
To picture health and sweet repose

How different is the rest of him
Whose mind is fraught with deadly sin!
He rises from his restless bed,
His soul convuls'd with secret dread;
Wild fancy forms unnumber'd woes,
To end this life the maniac goes.
The moon had gain'd a little height,
And threw around her silver light,
When, lo! I saw, it made me shrink,
This wretch was at the horrid brink,
Forward I rush'd and seiz'd his arm,
And forc'd him back, secure from harm.
Amaz'd, I cried, ' O insect man!
How wav'ring is thy every plan;
Thinkst thou the fury of an hour.
Can all thy ills of life devour?
How much mistaken is thy pride,
That does in that false hope confide,
Since God has form'd our dying day;
Reflect on that, and go thy way.
With that I left grim misery's child;
His eye-balls fash'd, he scornful smil'd.
"Contemptuous reas'ner,' loud he cried,
And tore a picture from his side:
'Behold you this! O emblem dear,
Of sainted angels we revere!
My love by death to heav'n has fied,
Her body number'd with the dead.
Think after this that I'll exist!'
His tears flow'd fast-the shade he kiss'd.
Come, clasp me fast, now welcome Death-
The king of terrors caught the breath,
For, lo! he sprang the dreadful steep,
In heav'n to love-or hell to weep.
Confus'd and fix'd each trembling limb,
My soul pour'd only thoughts on him.
He's gone-he's dead! a heartfelt sigh
O'ercame my soul, and tears each eye.
So when amid the Ganges' roar,
The nighty eagle in his soar
Views the young bird with piercing eye,
And, pouncing, dooms the thing to die,
The sailor hears its tender cries,
And pity darkens both his eyes.
With sorrow'd heart my senses trac'd,
Nature by this foul deed defac'd.
I sigh'd a pray'r, to save his soul;
For pray'r o'er Mercy has controul.-
Homewards I took my thoughtful way,
My memory here will often stray:
Sweet hope shall hover with her wings,
And mercy bring from King of kings.
L. S. P.

ODE

ON THE SURRENDER OF DANTZIC.

FAIR, heav'nly maid, immortal Poetry,
Romantic child of thought, I sing to thee;
And, mounting on thy golden wings,
I strike my humble-sounding lyre;
And, kindling with etherial fire,
Aloft my spirit springs.

And soaring to Parnassus' blooming plains
I hail thee, daughter of inspiring strains!

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