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comedy. Fogrum is a sort of Henry Augustus Mug, a traveller from Snow hill," with a cargo of "patent black majesty" puns. Sam Sharpset is as natural as amusing, and as vulgar as every other comic Yorkshireman played by Emery: Matthew Sharpset is precisely the sort of tetotem we have seen spinning round the stage at the Hay-market, under the appellation of Mr. Absent, in Exit by Mistake; and Miss Trump is a stately caricature of self-importance, as fantastic as tiffany, buckram, and Mrs. Davenport could make her. Thirdly, to the opera. Miss Stephens's Zelinda is a perfect syren. Her acting was sweetly plaintive; and her singing, particularly in the airs of "The Mocking Bird" and "Sons of Freedom," was all nature and accomplishment. Sinclair in Malcolm, a walking gentleman sang an old Scotch air with infinite taste and feeling; and he became his uniform well. Mr. Duruset sang prettily, but was very unequal to the character he assumes.-Fourthly, to the farce. This was exemplified by frequent repetitions of " Here York, you're wanted," in imitation, no doubt, of the "Anon, anon, Sir," of Francis in Henry IVth-by importing a cargo of skaits, double-milled woollens, &c. to a colony in South America, as well as by the witty taunt of "Your coals of course you sent to Newcastle." The dialogue, indepen dently of these jeu d'esprits, is preciously studded with highflown sentiments, which may always be had wholesale and retail at the Minerva library, and could not therefore have cost the author's brain much cudgelling. It is, notwithstanding, on the whole, just as fair a drama as most of the Morton and the Reynolds' cast. The music, by Bishop, only in part original, pleased; the scenery was descriptive and beautiful; and the performers severally lent their best aid to the success of the evening. If this were written to bring Mr. Macready forward, the author has certainly touched the right key. Every character indeed has been written for the peculiar talent to which it was allotted. We think, however, there are better plays which might suit Macready. We remember the character of Schedoni by the late John Palmer. It is full of the terrific: we merely offer this as a suggestion.

The Amusing Chronicle is published at No. 6, Gilbert's Passage, Portugal Street, and served at the houses of the subscribers, in the same manner us newspapers and magazines.

G. Stobbs, Printer, Catherine Street, Strand.

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AMUSING CHRONICLE,

a weekly Repository for

MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE.

No. XIV.]

DECEMBER 19, 1816.

[VOL. I.

Price only Four Pence.

Wв have received numerous letters requesting us to notice the Publications entitled "Spence's P Plan," and the "Political Register ;”—Desirous to avoid Political Subjects, we yet feel we owe a deference to the opinion of our Correspondents, and accordingly annex a Portrait of Mr. COBBEtt. We decline giving aný opinton as to the tendency of that Gentleman's writings; but his indefatigable industry, with the simplicity and novelty of his ideas, cannot fail to interest the Public.

In our Twelth Number we inserted an article on Fire Balls, and the exs planatory Wood Cuts will be found in this Number.

An Outline Print from the Bridal of Flora will appear in Number XV;

FANNY A MOST AFFECTING TALE.

(Continued from page 199.)

"But think not that poverty is my woe, for which I have you to regret. I shall as willingly be poor as rich: Adieu, gay Southampton officer! When this reaches you, I shall be sailing back a penitent to England, without one poor hope for myself, but many anxious ones for my children: such is the lot of woman! Pity me, a wretch without one friend, going a stormy voyage with rough treatment, sickness, remorse, and poverty. When I lift my foot for the last time from the American shore, think of the pain I shall suffer when I repeat, what I now must say,-Adieu to happiness and to you!

FRANCES."

The perusal of this letter served but more powerfully to arrest his feelings. Vernon's hand smote not his breast, but his heart did, and, stamping, he fearfully wished he had been just.

He returned home-remorse pursued him, but he concealed his thoughts from his bantering brethren, who had hitherto rallied him on his connection with Fanny. Without consulting Herod he wrote to Miss Clan and her father, that it was no longer in

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Macpherson, Painter, Russell Court, Covent Garden.

his power to fulfil his engagements; but he never could be induced to say farther on the subject; and his concern was evidently so great when it was endeavoured at, that the officers dared no more venture at raillery. He sent to all the near ports where Fanny might have taken her passage for England; but, gaining no tidings of her, he began to console himself with the bottle and his companions, when an incident recalled his attention to Fanny and her children.

At a mess of officers, where some country gentlemen were invited to supper, Vernon accidentally showed the picture of Fanny, which he constantly wore about him, when the countenance of one of the gentlemen was seen suddenly to change. The circumstance attracted the attention of every one, and, on being questioned, he exclaimed, "Oh, it is the very face that leaned against the tree, and was the most striking sight of human misery under heaven which I ever saw !" They then enquired if he knew the lady. He replied, "No; but that he had seen her in the woods, and supposed her remains might be found there now ;" and then proceeded to detail the following particulars.

"Hunting one day in a large company, about twenty miles from home, I saw something at a distance of a bright blue, and bending my course that way, saw it was the dress of a lady, who was leaning against the tree, at the foot of which were two children. When I stopped she looked up; her face was fair, like that picture, and she implored my protection, telling me, she was unable any longer to support her children, having wandered many miles out of the way, and many more to find it; a lovelier or more moving object I never beheld, but at the same time hearing the cry of the hunters, and being impatient to join them, I told her hastily I would send some help, and urged on by my inordinate love of the chase, left her on her knees, supplicating my return, while I swifty followed my companions, and we were many miles from the lady, before I thought seriously of her case; nor could I then find in my heart to stop in the midst of my course to return to her; determining, after the hunt was finished, to go myself or send. Reproaches thus falsely quieted, I heartily pursued the course, which finished, we adjourned to a cottage for refreshment, and my great desire to hear and relate the exploits of the chase inclined me to postpone sending till after dinner, when the men and horses would be rested.

"But after dinner, liquor so animated our spirits, that I thought no more of the lady till the following morning, when I arose and set out; but before I reached the three trees, where I left them, I saw (oh, that myself had been the horrid object) a human skull and other bones scattered about, I returned home

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