Halif having one day seen Ogloufcan retire from his wife, fell upon her in a transport of rage, plunged a dagger in her breast, and immediately after stabbed himself in despair. Thus did these three brothers owe their de struction to the completion of their own wishes. The moral of this tale teaches us, that we should always adhere to the precepts and admonitions of our parents, and not presume of ourselves, to direct the Almighty,by wishing for a change from the situation wherein he has thought proper to place us, and such as he has judged us fit for. TALKERS AND HEARERS. He flies the spot-alarm'd with dread, So unwilling are men to be hearers in society and we find, invariably, throughout society, that it is precisely those who will not listen one moment to the narrations of another, who require the most profound attention, and unwearied nods of approbation, for their own. The perfect hearer should be composed by the same receipt the Duc de Sully gives for making a great statesman. He should have litthe feeling-and no passions. The hearer must never be drowsy; for nothing perplexes a talker, or reader of his own works, like the accident of sleep in the midst of his harangue and I have known a French talker rise up and hold open the eyelids of a Dutch hearer with his finger and thumb. An hearer must not squint. For no lover is so zealous as a true talker, who will be perpetually watching the motion of the eyes, and always suspecting that the attention is directed to that side of the room to which they point. An hearer must not be a seer of sights. He must let an hare pass as quietly as an ox; and never interrupt a narration by crying out at the sight of an highwayman, or a mad-dog. An acquaintance of mine lost a good legacy by the ill timed arrival of a coach and six, which he discovered at the end of an avenue, and announced as an acceptable hearing to the pride of the family. But it happened to be at the very time the lady of the house was relating the critical moment of her life, when she was in the greatest danger of breaking her vow of celibacy. * An hearer must not have a weak head; for though the talker may like he should drink with him, he does not choose that he should fall under the table till he himself is speechless. He must not be a news-monger; because times past have already furnished the head of his patron with all the ideas he chooses it should be stored with. Lastly, and principally, an hearer must not be a wit. I remember one of this profession, being told by a gentleman, who, to do him jus tice, was a very good seaman, that he had rode from Portsmouth to London in four hours, asked "If it was by Shrewsbury clock." It happened that the person so interrogated had not read Shakespeare, which was the only reason I could assign why the adventurous querist was not immediately sent aboard the Stygian tender. Silence, in the opinion of a talker, is not merely the suppression of the action of the tongue : it is necessary that every muscle of the face, and member of the body, should receive its motion from no other sensation than that which the talker communicates through the ear. An hearer must not have the fidgets. He must not start if he hears a door clap, a gun go off, or a cry of murder. He must not sniff with his nostrils if he smells fire; because, though he should save the house by it, he will be as ill rewarded as Cassandra for her endeavours to prevent the flames of Troy, or Gulliver for extinguishing those of Lilliput. [Mirror.] BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF Selected from the Theatrical Censor. MRS. JONES was one of three daughters of a respectable physician in London, of the name of Granger, who, dying while she was young, left her in the care of a mother and grandmother, Mrs. Booth of Drury-Lane His circumstances at his death not being flourishing, the grandmother took this daughter under her D...VOL. 4. own care, and introduced her, at an early age, as a singer at the theatre where she was herself engaged. She is said to have played several musical parts with success; but we have seen no publick mention of her performances. About six years since, she married Mr. Jones, comedian, and embarked for America. Her first engagement was at Philadelphia, where she and her husband played three seasons, but without acquiring any extraordinary share of approbation. Thence she went to Boston, where her talents first began to expand, under the management of Mr. Powell. But domestick disquiet entered their dwelling, which ended in her husband's leaving her and her four children, for Charleston, where he performed one season, and where he died in August last. [The writer of the preceding article in the Censor is under a mistake, which we take the liberty to correct. Mr. and Mrs. J. were first engaged by Mr. Whitlock, and perfomed here through the season of 1800-1801, when that gentleman was manager of the Boston Theatre. Mrs. J. made her first ap pearance in America, Od. 19, 1800, as Miss Blandford, in Morton's then new comedy of "Speed the Plough," and was the principal favourite of the audience during the whole season...Polyanthos.] All, who have witnessed the charming exhibitions of this favourite of Thalia, will acknowledge the justice of the opinion, that, in her death, the New-York theatre has lost its principal female attraction and ornament. In FOR THE POLYANTHOS. TO MELANCHOLY. O! SWEETLY Soothing Melancholy, Tho' Fashion's giddy sons despise thee, SELECTED. The following delicate effusion of morality is selected from LITERARY HOURS, by Dr. Drake, Vol. III. TO BLOSSOMS. Why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awile, What, were ye born to be An hour or half's delight. 'Twas pity nature brought ye forth And lose you quite. |