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served speedy and soon. All the dressed turtle being swallowed yesterday, went to see the live one in his berth. He seemed uneasy; recollected that he was a foreigner, and might intend to desert to the enemy; had him placed in the bilboes for security.

Half past five.-Sat down to table with the lieutenant-beef tainted, lobscous fit only for sea monsters s -heard a firing from some point of the compass-went upon deck with the lieutenant, who asserted that it was the Dutch Lord Mayor and Aldermen embarking at the Brill, in their city schuyts, on an annual swanhopping-suspect he was hoaxing me-returned peaceably to my arm-chair in the cabin, to finish my feast -drank a bumper-grew witty-said that the cheese, like the Minister, was mitey-laughed heartily.

Seven o'clock.-Cloth removed, cursed the lieutenant for not saying grace with more sanctity-extremely warm.-Wine as hot as the d--took three bottles to cool me.

Nine o'clock.-Signal-gun fired-snatched up my best Dollond's telescope, and again mounted the deck. -Vessel rolled much-found by observation that I was above half seas over-involuntarily bore down to leeward, found that I had got upon the wrong side of the ship*.

Half past nine o'clock.-Chinese pig fell overboard -Mistook him in the sea for a porpoise.-Moonlight -Waves sublime, landscape beautiful, but wanted trees. Sailors sat singing on the forecastle-lubbers; fleas the only little active seamen on board, except myself.

Ten o'clock.-Loud firing again-Portsóken, our steward, flew up to me on the quarter-deck, his countenance indicating something terrible. "The firing," says he, "is like thunder, and it is as plain as the grasshopper upon the Royal Exchange, that all

*Never made that mistake in the House,

the

the porter will be soured." Considering well of what this intelligent man said, found his reasoning infal lible for, by the rule of three, if real thunder will give beer a turn, artificial thunder will certainly give it a twist.-Knew not what to do.-Ned Nerveless, of Milk Street, my surgeon, thought that I should send my best compliments to our admiral, and beg that the cannon might not make such an alarming noise."Nonsense! Shows what a whimpering son of a b- he is; not more heart than a biscuit. Never take him out again below Blackwall."-Resolved, at last, to keep aloof, and, as well as we can calculate, out of souring distance.

Half after ten o'clock.-Turned-in to my cot; muttered a short prayer; d-n-d the French; und-d the Dutch; fell asleep, and dreamed that we had conquered Westphalia, and that I was returning home in triumph, richly laden with hams.

Ramsgate, Thursday Evening.

Yours, &c.

BEN BOWLING.

CORNELIA;

OR, A ROMAN MATRON'S JEWELS :

A scenic Anecdote of One Act.

(Founded upon the Tradition of that noble Roman Lady producing her Children, as her most brilliant Ornaments and greatest Treasures.)

THE Author of the following scenes has long been of opinion, that many interesting incidents, of most emulative tendency, are scattered through the

*This pleasing little piece has been acted at the Winchester, Portsmouth, and Southampton theatres, with great applause; and we return thanks to the worthy and respectable Author for his permission to insert it in our present volume.

histories

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207

histories of Greece and Rome, as well as in that of our own country; which, by being presented to public attention from the stage, might prove highly serviceable to the cause of morality and virtue, although such historical traits may be too barren of actual or collateral business, or incident, to become adapted to the usually received extent of dramatic pieces. Under this impression, the following little morceau has been written; which, however small its poetic or scenic pretensions, may have its use, in hinting the above idea of similar attempts, to writers of more habituation in the line of stage-effect, and thereby add to the future stores both of public amusement and moral instruction.

The present scenic sketch is founded upon the wellknown anecdote of Cornelia's displaying her children to a lady of Campania, who had often importuned her for the sight of her jewels and ornaments. The Author may be thought to under-rate his reader's attainments in history, by detailing, that Cornelia was the daughter of Scipio Africanus, and the widow of Sempronius Gracchus, a noble Roman, and Consul, who left her with twelve children, to the educating and training of whom she wholly devoted her future life: the two elder boys were Tiberius and Caius Gracchus, both of whom became celebrated for their eloquence and public spirit, which (as tribunes) they ever displayed in the cause of the people. They were both untimely slain through the intrigues of the offended patricians, about 130 years before the Christian era. It is also recorded of Cornelia, that she actually refused the hand of the Emperor Ptolemy, saying that she coveted no title beyond that of Mother of the Gracchi, which was inscribed under her statue at Rome, in the portico of Metellus.

The incident, here dramatized, has before received the noticing efforts of the pencil and burine, in an ad

mirable

mirable print, engraved by Bartolozzi, from a painting by Angelica Kauffman: the impression is now become very scarce.

PERSONS OF THE DRAMA,

When represented at the Portsmouth, Southampton, and Win chester Theatres, at Mrs. Kelly's Benefits.

SCENE.-The Gardens and Interior of a Villa near Rome.

SCENE. A Garden, with Seats; a Table, on which are a Lute a Globe, Maps, and Books.

Corn.

CORNELIA and Three Children are discovered.

YE

E dear-lov'd pledges of connubial joys,
Pursue your daily tasks, now the mid hour
With sultry beam forbids th' excursive walk :-
Tiberius, thou trace on the modell'd globe
Thy-grandsire's path of glory; from the date

When, youth's bright dawn but nascent, he commenc'd
His warlike toil at Tesin's well-fought field;

To that high hour, when, crown'd with Conquest's palm,
The grateful triumph of all Rome conferr'd

Upon his name Fame's immortality,

For peace, by victory, at Zama won! (Comes forward.)
Shade of my honour'd sire, great Scipio, hail!

From Glory's temple, where enthron'd thou sit'st,
'Mid demi-gods and heroes, oh! look down
On me thy widow'd daughter; and transfuse
Some portion of thy soul in these thy race,
To whom my life 's devoted :-- May I train
Their ductile minds through Education's paths
To Honour's bright domain !-This part fulfill'd,
Releas'd from mortal cares, thy daughter pants
To join her father in the bless'd abodes,
And rise again her dear Sempronius' wife!

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209

Caius Grace. Dear mother, be not sad; it grieves our hearts To give you trouble, and indeed we will,

By ev'ry application in our pow'r,

Improve your kind instruction; for we feel
'Tis for our good:-anon I will recite,
Clad in my mimic arms and tiny shield,
The speech you pointed in our country's praise:
I have it perfect, in this little time!

Corn. That's my good Caius; thy reward shall be
Those conserves of the East for thy repast,
And thou shalt see the next gymnastic games.—
Now, my Sempronia, has thy little voice
Attain'd the past'ral strain, which on my lyre
I taught thee, at our studious labour's close,
Last night?-Music 's the mind's relief
From exercise intense; it pours its balin
Alike in Sorrow's chords, or Joy's light note,

Semp. I will endeavour:my dear mother knows
To make allowance for my youthful ear,

Which waits the aid of Time's maturing hand
To catch unerring Harmony's full scale.

(Sings Air. *) 'Tis well, my child:-nought cheers a mother's heart, Like the thrill'd tones pour'd from her offspring's voice. Next shall our needle's skill resume the work,

Now hast'ning to conclusion, of the scarf
For him our brave defender, who now leads
Our martial bands against the treach'rous foe,
Giving us ease and safety here at home.

Enter a Servant-speaks.

The Lady Fulvia asks your presence, Madain. Corn. Say I attend her. To your studies, children. [Exit.-The Scene drops

SCENE-An Apartment.

Enter CORNELIA and FULVIA, meeting.

Fulv. My dearest friend, I come thy steps to guide To the throng'd Amphitheatre's display;

Where youth and beauty in conjoin'd resort

All emulative strive: thy presence soon

* The air should be of suitable gravity, and by one of our classic harmonists.

Shall