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treatises which were found in the belly of a codfish, in Cambridge market, on Midsummer eve last, 1626." 12mo.

The British obituaries, for 1809, mention the death and give the character of a curious personage well known to mariners. “ Died,” says the EUROPEAN MAGAZINE, “ a heroine of some celebrity, distinguished by the name of Irish Nell, in Wellcourt, Wapping. Her house had long been a friendly asylum for travellers of every description. The inhabitant of the frozen regions, and the negro from the sultry clime of Ethiopia, often sought refuge under her roof. Jews, Turks, Christians and Pagans received the same welcome. Their accommodation was liberal, on reasonable terms; and, unlike many who keep lodging houses for the reception of foreigners, she seldom practised an imposition. In her will, she requested to be buried in her best clothes, and left five pounds, as an indemnity to the parish, in case the penalty should be exacted of them for suffering her to be interred in linen. The remains of poor Nell were interred in Stepney burial ground, in the presence of a great number of mourners. The following epitaph has been written on her head-stone:

Flashy Nell, of old Wapping, lies under this clay,
In a new gown and petticoat deck'd out quite gay;
Death call’d at her lodgings; she put on her best;
He took her away, to his dwelling of rest.

The following ludicrous anecdote is related of Francis the First, king of France. This prince, who was a great patron of literature, was, on his return from divine service to dinner, presented by some distinguished poet with an elegant epigram. This the king read whilst he was dining, and declared to those about him, that he had never been more agreeably feasted than by this epigran. One of the courtiers hearing his master make this declaration, hastened to the kitchen, and calling the cook to him, asked what this epigram was which he had dressed for the king, imagining it to be some new and dainty dish. The cook denying that he had sent up any new dish, the courtier was so provoked that he beat the cook, and the matter was finally brought before the king to determine, who did not fail heartily to laugh at the courtier's stupidity.

The following little poem, written by a celebrated traveller through the United States, was recited by Mr. FENNELL at the Masonic Hall, and, receiving from his elegant delivery every advantage the author could desire, was heard with great pleasure and applause. The famous Natural Bridge of Virginia is the subject, of which the author of the poem says, “ The vestiges of Roman grandeur and Athenian elegance fade into insignificance before the miraculous pile of nature, embosomed between two bills, in the deep solitudes of Virginia. As the vision of the bridge bursts on the eye, you are rapt. in admiration. The majesty and grace combined in the arch, through. which the blue expanse of heaven is visible; the huge masses of rock lying in wild disorder in the stream, and producing a rippling which alone disturbs the solitude of the place; the whole scene fills the mind with unspeakable amazement, and impresses it with a conviction, that the hand which raised the structure was divine."

When Fancy from the azure skies,

On earth came down, before unseen;
She bade the wondrous structure rise,

And haply chose this sylvan scene.
The Graces too, with sprightly air,

Assisted in the work divine;
The arch they form’d with nicest care,

And made the murm’ring stream incline.
Then Fancy, from the pile above,

Would gaze with rapture, bending o’er;
And charm’d, behold the streamlet rove,

While Echo mock'd its feeble roar.
And here, perhaps, the Indian stood,

With uplift hands, and eye amaz'd,
As sudden, from the devious wood,

He first upon the fabric gaz'd!
See Tadmor's domes and halls of state

In undistinguish'd ruin lie;
See Rome's proud empire yield to fate,

And claim the mournful pilgrim's sigh.
But while relentless time impairs

The monuments of crumbling art,
This pile unfading beauty wears,

Eternal in its every part!





For March, 1811. 1 Friday 1st, Richard Coeur de Lion-Spanish Barber--Irish Wi

dow. For the benefit of Mrs. Wilmot. 2 Saturday 2d, Surrender of Calais-Scheming Lieutenant. For the

benefit of Mr. Hardinge. 3 Monday 4th, Merchant of Venice-Harlequin in the Moon-Old

Maid. For the benefit of Mrs. Francis. 4 Wednesday 6th, Coriolanus–Poor Soldier. For the benefit of Mr.

Robbins, architect and scene painter. 5 Friday 8th, Alexander the Great-Shelty's Frolic-Children in

the Wood. For the benefit of Mrs. Seymour. 6 Saturday 9th, John Bull-Valentine and Orson. 7 Monday 11th, Town and Country--Le Foret Noire-Mayor of Gar.

rat. For the benefit of Master Whale. 8 Wednesday 13th, Adrian and Orilla—Harlequin in the Moon-High

life below stairs. For the benefit of Mrs. Twaits. 9 Friday 15th, Poor Gentleman-Half an hour after Supper-Span

ish Barber. For the benefit of Miss White. 10 Saturday 16th, Gustavus Vasa (Gustavus by a gentleman being his

first appearance on any stage)-Forty Thieves. 11 Monday 18th, Reconciliation-Columbus. 12 Wednesday 20th, Busy Body-Blue Beard. 13 Monday 25th, Richard the Third (Richard, Mr. COOKE, his first

appearance in Philadelphia)-The Review. 14 Wednesday 27th, Richard the Third (Richard, Mr. Cooke, his second

appearance)-Matrimony. 15 Friday 29th, Man of the World (Sir Pertinax Mac Sycophant, Mr.

Cooke, his third appearance)---Hunter of the Alps. 16 Saturday 30th, Merchant of Venice (Shylock, Mr. Cooke, his fourth

appearance)-Budget of Blunders.

GUSTAVUS VASA. In the history of our stage, the present may be called the season of novelties. Among those we have to commemorate is a young candidate for histrionic fame, who, on the sixteenth of this month, appeared (for the first time on any stage) in the character of GUSTAVUS VASA. This gentleman is, we understand, a native of America; and, on many accounts, lays claim to our particular attention and to the fostering protection of the public. Though labouring under grievous disadvantages, his performance manifested natural powers, upon which we expect to have many future opportunities of expatiating with pleasure and with praise. For though agitated to an excess we never before witnessed, he disclosed qualifications which nothing but unpardonable neglect, or incurable complexional diffidence, can prevent from raising him to a very respectable rank on the stage. He, however, showed much less judgment in his selecting the part of Gustavus than in his reading it; since, in the whole round of acting plays, we cannot think of one ess calculated to set off a young beginner to advantage.

The most prominent qualifications for the stage which this gentleman enjoys is a voice of most singular excellence-clear as a bell-musical, full toned, strong, and of great compass. He has besides a very handsome face, and is finely moulded in that seat of gracefulness, the chest and shoulders. In his utterance of the speeches, he manifested judgment: but the novelty of his situation weighed heavily upon his spirits, and fettered his action.

Exclusive of the recommendations we have mentioned, there is one our young candidate possesses to an excess almost unexampled; we mean MODESTY; which, though it obstructed his efforts on that night, and in all likelihood will do so a few nights more, is so universally observed to be the associate of real merit, that we cannot help considering it, in the case of this gentleman, as an infallible prognostic of success. Having heard, from the best authority in the theatre, the painful state of his feelings on that occasion, we are astonished that he was able to go through the character at all; and much more so, that he should disclose such strong proofs of talent, that we have no hesitation in predicting he will one day be an ornament to our stage. Industry, which we are informed he possesses, the aid of a good dancing master, and the practice of a season or two, will enable him to display that fine voice of his with credit to himself, advantage to the managers, and delight to the public.

To hope that we can reason away those exquisitely painful feel. ings which arise from complexional modesty, were absurd; as well

might we reason down a fever, or argue away the complexion of our hair; yet it may do much towards abating the rigor of their dominion over us to reflect, that, however inconvenient or obstructive it may be at first, modesty never fails to inlist the esteem and partiality of mankind in its favour; and that, though it should occasionally diminish the powers of the possessor, it in an equal degree operates as a charm upon the opinion and affections of those who witness its effects.

We shall now bid adieu to our young Gustavus, first begging leave to offer to his consideration a few words taken from a letter of the illustrious Burke to a person he honoured with his patronage, but whose modesty obstructed his advancement in life. After expatiating upon the young gentleman's talents, he goes on and says, “but this is too big for your modesty. Oh! this modesty, in time and place, is a charming virtue, and the grace of all other virtues: BUT IT IS, SOMETIMES, THE WORST ENEMY THEY HAVE.


MR. COOKE. On Monday, the 25th instant, the people of Philadelphia were gratified with the long wished for sight of this great actor. Saturday being the day appointed for taking seats in the boxes, the dawning of the day presented the portico of the theatre filled with people, some of whom had sat up there the whole night, for the purpose of insuring seats. In a short time they became clamorous, riot succeeded to clamors, and the opening, or rather the forcing of the doors, presented a spectacle which though at the time rather too serious to some, was to all but those personally concerned as ridiculous as can well be imagined; while the opposite side of Chesnut street was lined with a concourse of spectators piled upon each other's shoulders, and gaping at the scuffle as if the theatre were on fire. After much shouldering and brawling, some contusions of pericrania, and divers rents of christian gabardine, the boxes were taken; and all object of contest being thus removed, the crowd retired full fraught with the interesting intelligence, and impatient to entertain themselves and bore their friends with the important recital.

Yorick's Diego, he who, as Sterne relates in his Tristram Shandy, set Strasburgh in an uproar with his nose, did not more exclusively occupy the mouths and ears of that famous city, than did

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