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" loss of thee
Would never from my heart: no, no, I feel
The link of nature draw me, flesh of flesh,
Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state
Mine never shall be parted,-Bliss or woe!"

A few instances of ancient gallantry shall make up my next essay, till then I have to request my readers' indulgence, and I will treat them with

The Gallantry of Sir Francis Carew to Queen Elizabeth ;
And that of Sir Walter Raleigh, to the same lady.

(To be Continued.).

FANNY-A MOST AFFECTING TALE.

(Continued from page 179.)

"I have lived in scenes of misery and death, in war, in prison, and in a hospital, but never knew keen sorrow and distress before. -Having read your note, she gently clasped her hands together, and with trembling lips pronounced, "If it be true, that he will not marry me again, but that other lady, that is if he deserts me and our little ones, yet I think I may, with some confidence, look up to heaven for consolation, as I never consciously did. wrong, but in leaving my father and mother to share dangers with him who has so amply punished me for it; and now, poor. dear man, he is led astray himself by a fortune, which will prove as delusive to him as he has been to me.-We must all part, except me and these little partners in misery." When her eyes rested on her children, the tears would flow; but she recovered herself, and this ease to her anguish is reserved for those miserable solitary hours when it can pain no one but herself. Your settlement, she calmly returned, saying, she still esteemed herself, too much to accept the wages of sin.'

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After waiting several days in hopes that Vernon would again return to her, she determined to act still more heroically, and give up, though with bitter pangs, all chance of seeing Vernon again; with sighs and tears she packed up what necessaries were most portable, and her purse not affording any conveyance, she determined to walk to the first port where the ships set out for England. It was only eighteen miles distant; she thought she could do it in two days, taking a guide through the woods, who was to carry the youngest child, about a year old.

The morning appointed for her departure arrives; the guide stands at the door with his staff in his hand, and Fanny delivers

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to him her child and a bundle; and then, going up stairs into her solitary chamber, shut all the windows, and taking down their straw hats which had grown old on the pegs, to which they were never more to be returned, she shut up the door of the comfortlesss house, and left it a monument of her misery to all the rustic lookers on, who cherished her memory and lamented her sad departure, though ignorant of the cause. Taking her daughter Polly by the hand, she went to the door of a poor hut, and giving in the key, could only say, "Farewell, good old woman; I am going to my native country; if Mr. Vernon ever. enquires for me, there is a letter for him in the house: then, without waiting for a reply, she followed the guide some miles without uttering a syllable, till fatigue made the child sink. Then taking her in her arms, six miles more were traversed in the same silence, as the guide's little care was asleep too, and he trudged on with the view only of earning his shilling. In the afternoon, the guide, turning round for the first time, pointed out to her at the foot of the rocks, and beginning of the forest, a little hovel, the only human dwelling between the hamlet she had left and the town she was going to. "I am to go no farther," said the guide; and then, after giving her instructions for the journey, quitted her at the door of the hut. The children being sleepy, she gladly remained here all night, and in the morning set out again on her journey; but, intent on her melancholy situation, she mistook the path, nor perceived her error, till, parched with thirst and overcome with heat, she perceived very alarming symptoms of fever in her eldest child. The wildest scenes that ever drew tears from a lost traveller now lay before her, and no trace of any human path presented itself. Her resolution was now called forth by reason; she incessantly called for drink, but there was no hopes of any from the dry appearance of the place ;-till a few hours after, as she was going down hill, the shade became darker, the earth appeared covered: with moss, and some alders bespoke the near affinity of water. She descended deep before she reached it, sometimes listening to hear its rill, then hopeless, though chilled with its vapours. It was half encircled with a natural grotto, and high rocks rose beyond it on the opposite side, from whence the water issued deep, slow, and clear. She hasted with a little mug, and relieved the child's draught; then, sinking on her knees for a moment's rest, with the untasted draught in her hand, explored the vaulted cistern and retired majesty of the place. She looked up to the moss-covered entrances into the secret chamber of the rock, and durst not, even in thought, ascend the craggy steps that led to them, lest wild beasts or other dangerous animals should issue from the mysterious haunt.

(To be continued.)

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An individual is not prohibited from setting up a cotton or woollen manufactory, lest it should hurt the interest of a manufactory already established; and yet the ruin of a number of industrious journeymen has greater claims on the attention of the legislature than that of a company of players.

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What contradiction in the British jurisprudence? Actors are styled vagrants, and yet a greater solicitude is taken about their welfare than about any other class of people. It is illiberal to stigmatize them with opprobious denominations but leave them to shift for themselves on r

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All laws should consider the interest of the public, and not that of actors and managers; for however great one's passion for the Theatre, one must allow that we could do without it, Should tailors or shoemakers refuse to work from a disgust at any ordinance, we should be in a dilemma; but should our comedians adopt any other profession, however their secession might be regretted by amateurs, it would cause no loss to the state la

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Why has the system of travelling improved so much within a century? Its being left to itself. We travel with comfort and expedition, because every innkeeper is licensed to let post horses, or to set up stage-coaches. If the post here were on the same footing as in Germany, we should probably travel here as uncomfortably and slowly as there, Let any man open a Theatre to act licensed plays. Theatric amusements might be made objects of taxation; for taxes must be laid on something, and no more proper objects could be found. In France they contribute also to the poor-rates of the parish the tenth part of the entrance money every ticket is stamped; a five shilling ticket is rated sixpence. This is called le droit de l'indigence. Thẻ British government has been accused by its revflers of en couraging drunkenness for the benefit of the revenue. At any rate, it could incur no blame by encouraging dramatic amusements from motives of charity and finance; and rival managers would endeavour to procure the best performers, and render their Theatres as convenient as possible; as rival innkeepers endeavour to render their chaises comfortable, and to procure excellent horses.

But if the legislature should not judge proper to permit an indefinite number of Theatres, it would, though not entirely, terminate in part, many of the present abuses, and render an essential service to the drama, by licensing more Theatres than at present.

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Patents of exclusion are only granted to the most useful and ingenious inventions for a term of years; and yet these Theatrical Patentees without a shadow of merit, require that their monopoly should last for ever. The descendants of Shakespeare, if any are existing, would be prevented by them from representing the productions of their ancestor; nay, they would not suffer an author to perform his own drama.

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Why refer to the Theatrical Regulations of Charles the Second, in whose time the drama was allowedly depraved? Is not the drama more indebted to Elizabeth, who, when the capital had not a quarter of its present extent, permitted seven principal Theatres? Had London then been confined to two, and they been managed with so much partiality and injustice as our Theatres at present, Shakespeare would probably have been lost for ever blood ga

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A Parisian enjoys the theatres in comfort. They are, ex, cept on extraordinary, occasions seldom too full to admit of a spectator's arriving as late as he pleases, of his sitting at his case, or his changing his place to join an acquaintance in a distant box. Whereas in London, an individual, who is so fortunate toget a place, is obliged at the risk of his health, to retain it, lest he should be unable to find another. Add to this, seldom a night passes without rough words, sometimes blows exchanged, from the scarcity of seats. Many a duel has had the same source. The man, who opens the box at Paris, would be as surprised, should a stranger tip him a shile ling, as a journeyman in any shop would be at receiving one from a customer.⠀

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In London, an individual, having walked two or three miles, or paid his hackney-coach, (for in these times many a gentleman of quality is less able to keep his carriage, not only than a Manager, but a Boxkeeper) arrives at the theatre, and is informed the house is full, if he has not the good fortune to be admitted into the fifth tier of boxes, where, perhaps, he may see Timour's horses wag their tails; but, as to hear ing, he might as well expeet to hear a sermon in the whisper ing-gallery in St. Paul's

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THE CAPTIVE RETURNED.

(Tune "My lodgings on the cold ground."

Gladness again now fills my breast,
Which long in slavery mourn'd;
My throbbing heart is now at rest
Since to my cot return'd,
But when in chains,
On Afric's plains,
Joyless my thoughts did rove
To former bliss,
And happiness,

My Cot, and Mary's love.

Brave Albion, land of liberty,
To me you sent relief;
And since from slavery I'm free,
And banish' all my grief.
My voice I'll raise,
To sing thy praise,

Grateful my heart shall prove;
For all my bliss,

And happiness,

My Cot, and Mary's love.

J. D.

A TRUE TALE,

Mr. John Andrew Gordier, a respectable and wealthy inhabitant of Jersey, in the early part of the last century, whose death excited considerable surprize and alarm in the island where he resided, and was followed by circumstances so peculiarly melancholy and affecting, that they have af forded materials to the muse of Mr. Jephson, in his splendid and elaborate tragedy of the Italian Lover.

Mr. Gordier had, for several years, paid his addresses to a beautiful and accomplished young woman, a native of the

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