brace her (Mrs. Moral), and misses his aim;" instead of which was written runs to embrace her, and kisses her arm." I could mention many other whimsical errors having birth from the same cause, but shall intrude no further than to state that Mr. Simmons (father of the talented little actor of that name, who so many years delighted the town at Covent-Garden), being the receiver of tickets and orders at the theatre, was so convinced of my inability to write a plain and legible hand, that he actually, one evening, refused an order of mine because he could read it. I have another application commencing with "I am a salamander and sing comic songs." The following is from a celebrated siffleur :— "Sir,-I Take the Liberty of Inclosing a few Lines, to Inform you that I am a beautifull Whistler If you Please to Give Me one Trial on the Stage. "Sir, I Remain your Obt. Set. "For Answear." • The next from a very pretty Irish lady: “Sir,— Pardon the Liberty I take in writeing to you, as being to you a Totle Strainger, and likewise in London and not Knowing any Theatreal performer in Town, I hope Sir this will plade an excuse, I therefore am induced to take this metherd of offering myself to ingage with you, to take any Part you may be pleased to give me. I should be happy to have an intervew with you on this subject, should you be in wants of such an actress; a Line address to me to be Left at Mr. harwoods, Circulateing Librey, No. 21, Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury, shall be immediately attended to. "Sir, your most obt. Humbel Servent." The last but one I shall offer, from a very promising, and at the same time diffident young author, is also verbatim et literatim: "Sir,-Allow me, with the utmost respect and becoming fortitude, the privilege, as well as the honour, though an entire stranger, of soliciting your attention towards the enclosed. A self-interrogation had long perplexed my mind, concerning whether I was capable of undertaking the difficult, as well as resolute part, of an author :-many proofs, I imagined, announced me incompetent, and yet others appeared convincing me to the contrary. The generality of mankind are too apt in imagining themselves exulting in a state of future prosperity; instead of employing resignation to make themselves content in whatever wretched capacity the precarious will of Providence may judge necessary. Of the former disposition am ; therefore, I threw aside every obstacle, and consigned my all to chance. Emboldened by every favourable idea on my own side, I commenced the present production; nor were my exertions reluctantly given, but indefatigable in its progress, though I was continually teazed by voices forbidding such an undertaking: my last consideration, is that of receiving any emolument from the drama, but candidly, if I may employ the expression, the smiles of aspiring Fame! I shall now conclude, with humbly soliciting for an insurmountable favour on your part, which is, to use your never failing talent, in whatever situation you think proper, if you suppose the enclosed worthy of such noble indulgence! but if it should so happen as to be entirely rejected, which I shall know by not observing any announcement of its representation in your bills, why, I shall make myself perfectly contented, as I am most rigidly assured that I could not have entrusted any dramatic attempt whatever into the hands of a man more zealous in wishing to give satisfaction than yourself; and therefore, without any apology, allow me to repeat boldly, what I would wish to be :—An Object worthy of your Regard. June 25th, 1818." "The critique of Sir Lucius O'Trigger on the letter of Mrs. Malaprop is certainly very applicable to this note, in which there are words " arbitrarily pressed in the service, which would get their Habeas Corpus from any court in Christendom." "The following concluding note from a once celebrated French dancer, is worthy a place among some of Smollett's best slip-slop epistles: it is addressed to Mr. T. Dibdin, Esq.— "Madam's Respectful compliment to Mr. and Mrs. Dibdin, and will be mutch oblight to him if e will favour us with an order for next week, as she as not had the Pleasur of seeing your theatres this four years Past; and at the same time will recomend the bearer, Mr. ›*, to you for an engagement at your theatre, as it is is wish to serve you as far as lay in his Power: is Brothe is Engaged at Mr. Astleys Theatre for the season now comming on, and if you have a vacancy you can Place the barer in, e will make im self as usefull as e can to serve you, and think e will sute you. "N B. If you have no vacancy in your own theatre, be so kind as to Recomend im to your Broth* for Sadler's Wels."'—pp. 120—125. Mr. Dibdin's unfortunate speculations in the Surrey theatre, and their consequences in compelling him to avail himself of the Insolvent Debtor's Act, are matters of such recent notoriety, that we did not expect to meet with more than a short reference to them in the work before us. We had calculated without our host, for they form the leading theme of his second volume, and are as minutely detailed as if they had been fraught with the deepest interest to the public. Well might he exclaim, when with a large family to support, and disappointments thickening on his head every succeeding night, he recurred to the first indiscretion of his life. Truly is it asserted, that it is le premier pas qui coûte: no distance of time can make right that which in the beginning was essentially wrong: therefore pause, children of delusive expectations! before you quit the way pointed out to you by parental affection, or the care of those who have natural "authority over you!" lest thoughtless deviation lead you to feel the truth of Sheridan's assertion respecting folly of a different kind;-that often for our eventual benefit, "the crime carries the punishment along with it."" We have only one remark more to add, that we never met with two volumes in which so many deaths are recorded. In this respect they are almost as bad as a charnel-house. * Broth, I presume, stands for brother.' 361 Written by himself. ART. VII. The Adventures of Naufragus. 8vo. WE are told in the preface to this work, that it is a faithful narrative of the trials and adventures of a man, who, feeling that his course had been no common one, and conceiving that a published record of it may be as useful to others, as the experience which it has afforded him has been useful to himself, cannot withhold it from the public.' Notwithstanding the fictitious aspect of the title, and even after feeling startled at more than one of the adventures which the author relates, we are much disposed to credit the authenticity of the whole narrative. It is certainly a singular one. The scene being chiefly in the Eastern seas, the occurrences are of a character in many respects novel to our experience, and such as could hardly have been wholly fabricated by the imagination. In order to afford their prototype to the mind, they must have actually taken place; and though, possibly, they may not have all happened within the observation of the author, yet it is evident that he is indebted for them to real facts, wherever he found them. The author, so far as we can collect from his book, appears to be endowed with a highly sensitive temperament, and with talents of no mean order. Some of the most extraordinary of the circumstances which he relates, would appear to have occurred to him before he attained his twentieth year; yet even before that period we find him full of the mania of adventure, and evincing remarkable fortitude under the most discouraging frowns of fortune. A disposition formed to admire the works of nature, and to feel a lively interest in all her operations, whether on a terrific or pleasing scale, seems to have generally provided him with a flow of cheerful spirits; and with their usual accompaniment, a generous love of independence. "In truth he was a strange and wayward wight, And if a sigh would sometimes intervene, A sigh, a tear, so sweet, he wish'd not to control." In consequence of the poverty of his parents, who were stripped. of affluence by commercial vicissitudes, the author was indebted to an uncle for his education, such as it was, in one of the economical schools in the north of England. He speaks of the time that he spent there with no great feeling of delight. It was cheered by few presents; and he experienced that most sickening of all school-boy sufferings-being left at the seminary during the vacations. The following passage will let the reader a little further into a knowledge of his early hardships, and the peculiar turn of his mind : But privations did not constitute the whole of my unhappiness with them positive sufferings concurred, especially some inflicted with the whip. On the cold winter mornings we were at our desks by seven; and the many times I have crawled up, shivering, to receive on my already-benumbed finger-ends smart stripes from the cane, are yet fresh in my memory. As for the fire, never, even on the coldest days, did I derive any benefit from it, in consequence of the tyranny of the elder boys; and on the whole, I cannot bring my school-days to mind, without feeling that I would willingly forego all the advantages of the brightest education, and the benefit resulting from a successful application of it--consenting to remain in unlettered ignorance, rather than again undergo the miseries of my school-days. The hardships of my boyhood may possibly have impressed me with a rather gloomy, unsocial, or more properly speaking, unhappy turn of mind; it is at least certain that I had no chosen friend in the school-no playmate: for I loved not play as other boys loved it; my delight was to be alone. For hours, even in the winter, would I wander, solitary, in the deep recesses of a wood, delighted with the awful stillness-the deep echo-or the howling of the wintry wind. I loved to hear the rustling of birds-to watch the playful squirrel-to catch a hasty glimpse of passing foxes, nothing fearful of me; and then to gather berries, until wearied nature sent me back to school. 'In the summer still would I be alone, seeking shades remote from habitations-reclining on a mossy bank, and beholding with enthusiastic wonder and delight, the glittering, golden scenes around me. With what rapture would I listen to the lark! and when I viewed the arched sky, of clear ethereal blue, as if I would look it through, how disturbing was the reflection, that I could not remain for ever where I was, at rest and happy! My tasks I soon mastered, and made rapid progress in arithmetic, Latin, and navigation; but all were in a great measure thrown away upon me: to study external nature, in her grandest forms, was my delight; and amidst the sweets of solitude, all labour was forgotten; my mind was entirely wrapt in admiration and wonder at the grandeur of a wood, or in delight with the beauty of a landscape, or the charms of a solitary walk, over a wide, dreary, deserted moor.'-pp. 2, 3. When it was thought that he had got enough of figures in his head, he was sent out as a midshipman in an East Indiaman, of which his uncle was owner. The manner in which he was fitted out, was characteristic of avuncular frugality. A list of necessaries was sent to a slop-shop in Leadenhall-street, and an order given for them, without the slightest reference to his person: his shoes were, consequently, too large or too small; his caps were intended for a soldier, not for a sailor; his uniform coat was large enough for his grandfather; and when he walked into it, the train swept the deck behind him, to the boundless amusement of his companions: his shirts were in the same proportion; and, in short, his whole establishment was outré and useless. Thus rigged out, he made his first voyage to Bombay and back, without encountering any adventure worthy of notice. His general experience of the happiness of a middie's life was rather disheartening. "Of all lives in the world, that of a midshipman of an East Indiaman is the most distressing and contemptible: neither received by the officers, or obeyed by the seamen, he loses all the privileges of the latter, without having any of the comforts of the former. By the officers he is kept at a distance, and by the seamen held in derision: he is a mere walking candlestick; the principal part of his duty being to hold a candle to the officers in the ship's hold. The sailors are always watching for an opportunity to pilfer the poor middie's apparel; and frequently the chest full, on leaving England a few weeks before, of valuable clothes, linen, shoes, and other necessary articles, is as empty as the poor fellow's bread-bag.'-p. 6. His second voyage he performed in a similar enviable capacity, on board a ship of twelve hundred tons, bound to St. Helena, Bencoolen and China. He complains, on this occasion, of having met with exceedingly harsh treatment from the second officer, during the voyage outward; such was his misery, that he resolved on quitting the ship at Pulo-Penang, in Prince of Wales' Island—a resolution which he carried into effect with the greatest possible coolness and determination, without a sixpence in his pocket. His first object on landing, was, of course, to conceal himself from pursuit as quickly as possible. He fled to the adjoining forests; and after wandering about for four days, he had the felicity, on ascending the summit of a mountain, to see his ship under weigh, and soon diminished to a speck on the horizon. Upon this be returned to the town, and, through the kind interposition of a British merchant established there, he obtained immediate employment as second mate on board the Jane, a country brig, under the command of a good-humoured, kind-hearted captain, named Lambert, whose chief mate was an eccentric fellow called Tassit, a halfcaste, or creole, of Bengal, educated in England. 'All hands were busy receiving cargo, which we were to leave at Malacca for some China ship expected there; and all possible haste was made to sail immediately. It was four o'clock in the afternoon when I went on board, and at five Tassit very civilly asked me down to tea. I readily obeyed the summons, and followed him to the cabin. There I found the leg and wing of a cold fowl, toast, biscuits, butter, a piece of cold ham, and a smoking tea-kettle in the hands of a lascar. Down I sat, opposite to my new friend Tassit, and began upon the fowl and ham, which soon disappeared; the toast and tea also vanished, and with equal celerity, Tassit all the while ministering to my wants with much patience and good-nature; and when I afterwards told him that that meal was the only one I had for four days, he laughed immoderately; but suddenly checking himself, said, in a serious tone-" By all that's wonderful, I thought you would have killed yourself!"'—p. 17. Our hero now began to earn money for the first time. He was VOL. V. 2 B |