ni remained in an anti-chamber, while the manager went and spoke to his mother. Signora, said he, I come from Rimini, and bring news of your son-Indeed? How does he do-In perfect health-Is he happy? So so, Signora What is the matter?-He longs to see his dear mother-Poor boy! I wish he were here! (I, says Goldoni, stood listening with a beating heart)-I offered to bring him here--And why did not he come, Signor? Should you be glad to see him? No doubt!-But his studies?-He may return to them: beside masters are every where to be procured-Then the sight of him would make you happy?-Beyond expres sion!-Behold him, Signora !

"Saying this, he opened the door; I ran into my mother's arms, and while she kissed me, tears would not suffer her to speak. This was a theatrical scene, to which the stage director was accustomed."

During the progress of his studies, Goldoni relates various adventures, interesting scenes, and critical situations, from which he sometimes escaped with difficulty. He was several times in danger from artful women, had once determined to become a Capuchin friar, was stimulated by his parents and friends to study the law, and enjoyed places of some diplomatick importance. The the atre excepted, the law appears to have been his most serious study; and, through the chief part of his life, he bore the appellation

of the advocate Goldoni. His first and reigning inclination finally prevailed, and he devoted himself so entirely to the stage that the number of his dramatick works, in the edition of Venice already cited, is almost incredible. Tragedies and comedies in verse, comedies in prose, musical operas, farces, after-pieces, and interludes, amounting to lit tle less than two hundred, beside those which it seems have never yet been printed, prove the fecundity of his mind, and the prodigious facility with which he wrote,

His chief labours were for the theatres at Venice: he excelled in the Venetian dialect, but, being ambitious to write pure Tuscan, he made many efforts to attain purity; and wrote many comedies to prove it attained, by the reading of which a foreigner, at least, is satisfied they were not written in vain. But on purity of diction, it very rarely happens that a foreigner can give a just opinion.

In the early part of life, he visited most of the chief cities of Italy, and while he attentively studied men and manners, could not fail to highly profit by these excursions. Af ter the numerous pieces he had given to the Italian theatres, and particularly to those of Venice, he was pressingly invited, in the year 1760, to make a journey to Paris; for which city he departed, in April 1761, being greatly excited by curiosity, yet deeply re gretting to quit the place at which he had gained so much fame. There was a compa.

ny of Italian players, at Paris, who were al so desirous of better success, and who imagi ned it would be secured by the name and talents of Goldoni. It afterward, however, appeared that these hopes were not fully answered; but it also appears that the fault was not with the poet : it rather lay with the publick, who could not be expected to un derstand or enjoy comedies written in a foreign language, equal to those which were nightly before them, in their native tongue.

The genius of Goldoni, though repulsed was not subdued; for, while in Paris, he wrote a charming little comedy in French, called Le Bourreau, Bienfaisant, which not only gave infinite pleasure on its first appearance, but which still keeps and will long continue to keep its due rank upon the stage. To write a highly successful comedy in a foreign language affords an undeniable proof of superiour powers of mind.

I

? A man like Goldoni could not fail to find protectors among the great, at Paris, where people of rank had long made it one source of gratification to notice and promote the interest of men whose literary abilities were in high esteem: he was recommended to the royal family, and many years remained preceptor in the Italian language to some of the princesses. I believe he never again visited his native country; but of this I do not speak with certainty; nor have I any document before me of the year in which he died. In

the last chapter of his Memoirs, however, he says, "Behold me arrived at the year 1787, and the eightieth of my age." In the same chapter he tells us that, having been lately ill, Count Alfieri pṛid him a visit ; and adds that Sophocles and Euripides were the mod els of this great poet. Of his own comedies he says" The application which I gave to the writing of them was that which nature inspired." In the preceeding sentence he had indeed said-" I am much more indebted to nature than to study."

DRAMATICK ANECDOTES,

ON some occasion, the late Mr. Sheridan the actor, was wantonly insulted on the stage at Dublin, to which he replied with spirit and propriety. A ring leader was so exas perated, by the reply, that he rushed behind the scenes, uttered the abuse which passion suggested, and received the chastisement which he deserved. Mr. Sheridan was indicted for an assault. No one in Dublin, supposed that a player would find support, not even in a court of justice, against a gentleman. This was a mistake: Lord Chief Justice Marley worthily presided, and would not suffer packed juries to be impanelled. Mr. Kelly was the plaintiff, and his abusive language being proved, the jury acquitted Mr. Sheridan, without leaving their box,

During the trial, he was called on the table, to answer questions, by an eminent, though not a well bred counsellor, in behalf of the plaintiff. "I want," said the lawyer, "to see a curiosity. I have often seen a gentleman soldier, and a gentleman tailor, but never yet a gentleman player." Without the least embarrassment, Mr. Sheridan modestly bowed and replied, " I hope, Sir, you see one now." A loud murmur of applause ran through the court, and the counsellor, impudent as he was, slunk to his seat and never asked another question,

The behaviour of Mr. Sheridan afterward is still more to his honour. This Mr. Kelly had foolishly imagined his gentility would be supported, and subscriptions raised to pay the fine of five hundred pounds, in which he was cast, for his conduct in the riot. He was wholly deserted, lay some time in confine, ment, and at last knew no better means than to solicit Mr. Sheridan, who immediately petioned government to relinquish the fine, and became himself solicitor and bail, to the court of king's bench, for the enlargement of the gentleman, Mr. Kelly.

IN Paris, the gallery of the theatre is called Paradise. The Duchess of Orleans took a fancy to go the play one night, with only a fille de chambre, and to sit there. A young officer sat next her, was very free in his addresses, and, when the play was over, con