cured an engagement with Ryder, the Dub- || she having left him before the term of their

lin manager, when she made her first appearance as Phabe, in Shakespeare's wellknown comedy of As You Like It.

expiration. There is no doubt that the illconduct of the Manager would have lost him a verdict; however, it was still fortuThe same feeling heart which prompted nate for the juvenile heroine that a disinher to exert herself for the support of her terested friend stepped forward, and by the mother and infant relatives, also induced advance of two hundred and fifty pounds, her to avoid any step which might inflict prevented the enraged Manager from interdisgrace, as it was called, on the family offering with her recent engagements. On her father, of the man who had deserted the York stage, and in the summer excurthem to a generous sense of feeling, she sions of the company, she remained for a perhaps added the dictates of propriety, as period of nearly three years, when her init is not improbable that she still hoped creasing fame soon reached the ears of the that justice would be done to her injured London Managers; and so strongly were mother, and she accordingly took the nom they persuaded by Mr. Smith, of Druryde guerre of Francis, a name which she || Lane theatre, who had witnessed her perwould have retained, had not some illiberal formance in the race week at York, that notion of her praise-worthy exertions in- they immediately engaged her at that duced her with a becoming spirit to resume house, at a salary of four pounds per week. her real name; which, however, she after- It was intended that she should have wards laid down when a new engagement been second to the modern Melpomene ; placed her on the Crow-street boards, un- but her well-placed confidence in her own der the management of Mr. Daly. Her powers prompted her to attempt to shine efforts hitherto had not been much noticed; as first in whatever walk she should adopt, but now she attracted great attention by she therefore chose Comedy, preferring the her performance of Adelaide, in the Count buskin to the sock, and accordingly made de Narbonne, and was rising fast to the her first appearance before a London ausummit of public favour, when some imper-dience in Peggy, in the Country Girl, which tinence on the part of the Manager induced was then revived for the display of her abiher to leave the Hibernian theatres and pro-lities. It is needless to state that her receed to Leeds, where the veteran Tate ception was in the highest degree flatterWilkinson was then performing with his ing, and that she has ever since been most Yorkshire company. deservedly the favourite of London audiOn her first introduction the Manager ences at both houses; for at Covent-Garden naturally put the question, as to what line she has several times appeared, whenever she professed to adopt, running through all she thought her exertions would be bene. the changes from heroic tragedy down toficial to the deserving, but perhaps unforthe lowest point of low comedy, when with tunate sons and daughters of Thespis. her accustomed vivacity the youthful adventuress boldly answered, "all!"

In order then to ascertain her talents at once, in the two extremes, she was immediately announced, under the appellation of Mrs, Jordan," to perform Calista, in the Fair Penitent, together with Lucy, in the Virgin Unmasked, to which she was to add some songs, &c. between the perform

ances.

It is needless to say that applause was unbounded, and that an engagement immediately followed; but she was still under an embarrassment, for her change of name did not prevent her being traced by Daly the Dublin manager, who threatened her with a suit for the penalty in her articles,

IN

To mark how much her talents were appreciated by the Drury-Lane Managers, it is only necessary to state, that her salary was immediately doubled, and soon after trebled, in addition to two benefits every season, and for a long period she continued in the receipt of the highest salary at that theatre.

Soon after her settlement in the metropolis she lost her mother, but she has still most unceasingly continued to share the reward of her personal exertions, with such branches of her family as have been in want of her assistance. This too she has generously done even whilst having a family of her own; but these circumstances we shall wave, and merely proceed to state,

The circumstances which induced Mrs. Jordan to adopt a temporary retirement she was taken suddenly ill, and it was from the stage are well known; however, feared that she had ruptured a blood-vessel in 1800, she returned again to Drury-Lane, || in her chest. and was as warmly received, in Peggy, as Circumstances have, however, still inon the night of her metropolitan debut.-duced her to persevere in her personal exShe had intended to speak an Address ertions; she has since performed at Dubupon this occasion, but her feelings pre-lin, and on several of the provincial stages. vented her, and it was, perhaps judiciously,

198

ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS.

THE DUMB LOVER.—A TRUE STORY.
FROM THE FRENCH OF MADAME -

Is ancient times people would believe floor of his dining-room all chequered with In sorcerers and ghosts; dreams even acted crown-pieces. His friends were amazed, at an eminent part in the drama of human || first, at seeing a man, who was so well aclife; and from the days of Joseph down to || quainted with the value of money, and those of the hero whose history I am going who knew how to turn it to advantage, to relate, many a dream has determined the thus trample under foot so considerable a fate of the dreamer. In proportion as the sum that brought him no interest. But human mind became enlightened, the Melchior knew what he was about; that dreams and ghosts have become the topics money, apparently dead, that floor which of grand dames and nursery maids' conver-caught the eye of all who called upon him sations; the former have ceased prophetiz- || about business, gave such an opinion of bis ing future events, and are only considered || wealth, and was so conducive to augment as the effects of preceding sensations. his credit, that the capital which he had aid out was soon replaced with more than Whether we are right or wrong, I will not an hundred fold interest. Death alone pretend to determine; the very interesting discussion might carry me too far, I shall could put an end to his lucrative speculaleave it to the sagacity, argumentation, and tions, and a stop to the millions of money experience of my readers, and proceed to that poured upon him from all sides. He recount the history of a youth of former || died suddenly of an apoplectic fit, without times, whose happiness was occasioned by being allowed time to converse about pea dream; wishing the same result may at- cuniary concerns with his only beloved son. In the mean time he left him to intend all who will be endowed with sufficient patience to read it. In case any one herit an immense unincumbered income, should question the truth of my narrative, besides the monsters in the little garden, let them go to Bremen, there every inhabit- || and the floor chequered with crown-pieces. ant will be found ready to tell the story over and over again, with all the faith and veneration that ancient traditions are entitled to.

||

||

Frank Melchior was a very promising young man, and of a very recommending person; he had suffered too much from his father's avarice not to hold that vice in abomination; and accordingly planged so deep into the opposite excess, that within a few years time he saw the bottom of those coffers, so full of late, but out of which he had been daily fishing, without even re

In the city of Bremen lived an old merchant, sirnamed the rich Melchior; he had been so successful, and altogether so well conversant in commercial transactions, that he had amassed an immense fortune; which his only enjoyment consisted in in-plenishing; he then was forced to borrow, creasing. However, this very avaricious man, who denied himself all manner of amusement, or of expence, indulged two very extraordinary whims of luxury, to the On the skirts great surprize of every one. of the city he had purchased a little garden, whither he sometimes resorted to refresh himself after his fatigues, and had ornamented it, at great cost, in the most fan tastical manner, with a quantity of little silver gilt statues of monsters, which were encircled by a strong net-work of silver gilt likewise. His other whim he had gratified in his town residence, by having the

and the reputation of old Melchior, of his
silver gilt monsters, and of his floor che
quered with crown-pieces, was so well esta-
blished, that the young man easily procured
loans at very heavy interest. When the
bills became due, the garden was stopped
to honour the debt; the monsters all dis-
appeared successively, and finally the gar-
den itself. Frank, however, still kept up,
till on a sudden it was rumoured that the
crown-pieces of the floor had also disap-
peared, and were replaced by an elegant
The creditors instantly
wooden inlay.
came forward to ascertain the fact; the

metamorphosis had really taken place, and the dining-room, though not so rich, looked much better. Frank protested that his good taste alone had suggested the alteration, that a floor of crown pieces and silver gilt monsters were too hideous to be retained; the creditors shammed belief, but the illusion had ceased; they no sooner left the inlaid saloon than they thought of procuring an execution on the whole property, movables and immovables of the young profligate. The whole, indeed, were confiscated and brought to the hammer, so that out of all his riches, he had nothing left now except some jewels that had belonged to his mother, and a good stock of philosophy, or rather of thoughtlessness, by dint of which he could bear his present situation with resignation, and even with a kind of gaiety: he thought within himself that since he had no money left, he would no longer be at a loss how to spend it. He made up his mind at once, retired to the extremity of the town, and in the narrowest street hired the smallest room, which the rays of the sun had never illumined, and modestly boarded with his landlady, a very poor and frugal woman.

single moment, and had scarce ever spoken to any one else. Both of them earned their living by spinning all the day long; their assiduity was so much the more praiseworthy, as dame Brigite, at least, had seen better days, Her husband, Meta's father, had once been rich enough to purchase and fit out a ship, with which he carried on a considerable trade: however, his ruin was completed by that which ought to have procured him a competence; a violent storm arose one day, when the waves swallowed up the vessel, the cargo, and the owner. His wife was informed that she had lost her all, and she, most undoubtedly, would have died broken-hearted, had she not been a mother: Meta, still at her breast, claimed her assistance, and she determined to live for the sake of her child; yet too proud to accept of what compassion might have afforded her, she wished to provide for herself and child, without laying under an obligation to any one; she could spin, and to her wheel she heartily applied. She hired a small room in the aforesaid narrow street, and there she spun so much and so well, that by dint of assiduity and economy, she was enabled to provide for her little family. In those days the education of the most distinguished young ladies consisted in being taught the use of their needle, to sew, and to cook a few plain dishes. Dame Brigite had no elegant repasts to prepare, still less linen to sew; she, therefore, had leisure enough to attend to her spinning-wheel; she would begin at day-break, and only left off to

Now what was Frank doing while all the day long within the walls of his very circumscribed lodgings? All that he had ever known was to spend his money, and now he had none. In truth, he had been taught to read; which in those days was reckoned a refined education; but he had no books, because at that time very few were published; theological discussions, or romances on chivalry were the only sub-enjoy some few hours sleep. As soon as jects which authors would write upon, and Frank was neither a divine nor a knight: his only occupation, therefore, consisted in the recollection of his former amusements,|| in thrumming a lute which he had saved from the wreck, and in making meteorolo- || gical observations at his window, from || which he could hardly see the sky: this employment, however, soon brought on another that engrossed his whole attention, || and left no room for either sorrow or ennui. In the same narrow street where Frank lived, and exactly opposite, lived also a poor old widow named Brigite, with her only daughter, called Meta, as beautiful as an angel, and equally innocent and pure. She had never left her mother for one

little Meta could reach the spindle, her mother taught her how to use it, and their two wheels turned unceasingly by the side of each other: constant practice made them more perfect, so that dame Brigite, besides their work, was enabled to begin dealing in hemp.

This good woman entertained some hopes of not being reduced to spin all her lifetime, but in her old age, to be restored to her past affluence; when her maternal glance fixed upon her Meta, blooming with youth and beauty, more luxuriant than the budding rose, she doubted not but the last season of her existence would be blessed with prosperity; she thought it was impossible that the graces and virtues of her

tress? No. He therefore must be satisfied with admiring and adoring her silently.

the mean time, as she was well read in the human heart, and as she knew that forbidden fruit is, and ever will be, thought the most palatable to a youthful girl, she held her tongue, and took particular care to keep her discovery and reflections to herself, but determined to counteract whatever her gay neighbour might put in practice to be noticed by Meta.

daughter should not induce the addresses of some wealthy pretender. In those remote ages, virtue and beauty were as va In the mean time Frank was not the luable in the estimation of young bachelors, only observer of what passed amongst his as birth and riches are sought after now-a- neighbours; dame Brigite likewise would days; in truth, a young maiden had more make her observations, and rightly underchance of getting married: every parent, stood from what motives her young neighfrom his own experience, would repeat to bour was stationary at his window for his son, that a good and handsome wife whole days together; she had heard of was the most essential piece of furniture he him, she had been informed that he had could procure; every mother evinced the spent the princely fortune that his father truth of the assertion, the same as every had left him; and the young man's characyoung woman strived to confirm it, and to|| ter, of course, was enough to cause so prubecome, as King Solomon expressed it, "A dent a mother as Brigite was, to tremble pearl of rich value that decorates the man- from head to foot: he was not the son-insion of her lord." law duly qualified to set her spinningDame Brigite accordingly continually || wheel to rest; he consequently was excludwatched over her jewel, and denied herself || ed from co-operating in her schemes. In every thing, that she might bestow a good education on her daughter, and deck her out to the best advantage. Convinced, as all good mothers were in those days of yore, that the best,-that nothing better could be done than to teach a girl to love her work and retirement; and in conformity to those principles, she gave Meta plenty of work to do, but never allowed her to leave her home unless it was to go to hear mass every day in a church not far distant. Frank was engaged at observing the hea-dow, he had the mortification to see that of vens from his window, when he chanced his opposite neighbours veiled with a thick to see the young girl, who made such an curtain of white cloth, through which the impression upon him as he had never ex- hundred eyes of Argus would have tried in perienced before; never had he to that day vain to pierce. Thinking that the curtain viewed a female with a sensation of love; || would be drawn open a little later, he sat but the innocent and beauteous Meta de- || patiently for some time; during the whole veloped within him the most ardent pas- blessed day he remained at his post, but the sion he no longer dwelt on any other fatal curtain was not removed; on the day idea, he renounced every other wish, and following he found it still as immovable as knew of no other occupation but of gazing if it were a stone wall. However, he had on her whilst she sat spinning in her little the consolation of seeing Meta as she was room, when she occasionally came to her going to church, but her mother followed window for the benefit of a little fresh air, her close, and besides, her sweet face was or when she was going out in pursuit of covered over with a veil as thick nearly as her usual devotion. Ah! how severely || the curtain; he saw the veiled beauty and would he then lament having squandered || her barbarous mother enter the temple, away his fortune! How happy he would come out of it, and hasten back home, the have been to offer it to Meta,-in sharing sooner to get secreted behind their curit with Meta! But now, what hopes might || tain.

he be allowed to indulge? Could he pre

sume to propose her partaking of his dis

In consequence of Brigite's plans, when Frank one morning approached his win

(To be continued.)