ieur prevailed on me
to retire to his sitting room, when perhaps, he observed, we should hear
the noise repeated. I acquiesced, when to my inexpressible horror our
ears were assailed by a tremendous knocking, accompanied by a terrific
scream. This was more than human nature could bear. I rang the bell with
unusual violence, which brought up two of the female servants. Without
communicating my fears, I requested that the groom might be called: he
came, and thus, in a body we once more ventured to enter this terror
striking room, every corner of which was searched without success; when
the groom accidentally moving the bed, out sprung our--black cat! She
had so completely concealed herself in the head curtain of the bed, that
all our endeavours to discover anything were fruitless; and each time we
left the room, she amused herself with patting the pull of the bell,
which occasioned its motion to the infinite terror of a French
philosopher, and an heroic maiden.

"The 'terrific scream,' was a faint groan, proceeding from a servant who
was ill in the house."

COMMUNICATIONS.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE DRAMATIC MISCELLANY.

Sir,

I send you herewith the first number of a series of Papers, the
continuance of which will probably depend upon your opinion of their
tendency to amuse or gratify your readers.

That they may not be tried by too rigid rules of criticism--and that
more may not be expected from the writer than he means to perform, I
deem it necessary to premise that the future numbers, like the present,
are intended to consist of such anecdotes respecting the drama and
dramatic writers, as I have heretofore, or hereafter may meet with in
the course of a very desultory course of reading--of such information of
that description, as I have collected in my progress through life--and
of such remarks and reflections as they may excite in my mind.

With sincere wishes for the success of your undertaking, I am,
Yours, &c.
DRAMATICUS.

_Every One has his Fault._

Among the best dramatic performances that have appeared during the last
half of the eighteenth century, I have no hesitation in giving this
admirable comedy, by Mrs. Inchbald, a conspicuous place. For strongly
marked characters, interesting incidents, correct sentiments, and chaste
language, I know none to be preferred to it. It appeared here, at the
opening of the New Theatre in 1793, under as much advantage, as if the
authoress had actua