la UNIVER% ,^lOS-ANCElfj> ^ t/ & g i I ]ONVSO^ 5 *. lvi "^S83AINn ^LIBRAl ^.OF-CALIf t JBRARYQr ^l-LIBRARYQr ii^^ 5 1 \r i i^* < a I z I 3 5 i 1 -T1 l_> ^UIBRARYQ^ ^t-LIB i MISCELLANIES i PROSE AND VERSE; INCLUDING REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS, OPERAS, AND FARCES, And on a Variety of other MODERN PUBLICATIONS. BY THE HONOURABLE LORD GARDENSTONE. DOLCE EST DESIPERE IN LOCO. THE SECOND EDITION, CORRECTED AND ENLARGED. EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY J. ROBERTSON, SOUTH BRIDGE-STREET. MOOCXCZIi PREFACE. ^ 1 HE Remarks on Englifh Plays, and thofe other Remarks on Modern Publications which are printed next after them, in this volume, aretranfcribed from the library of the Honour- able Lord Gardenftone, kept open for the amufemerit of Travellers, at the Inn of his village of Laurencekirk. It is his Lordmip's practice to infert his Critical Obfervations on the margins of the refpective books, and to interline with his pen fome of the moft re- markable pafiages. This explanation may be neceflary, to enable the reader to under- ftand fome of his Lordfhip's exprefiions which refer to thefe circumflances. The firft Edition of this Mifcellany was not intended for Sale ; but a fecond having been defired by the Public, the Editor has exerted his attention to render it as correcT; as poffi- ble. A variety of Articles have likewife been added, which are, perhaps, not unworthy of prefervation. EDINBURGH, January i.'~) 1792. 3 A ii. POETICAL ESSAYS. THE PROGRESS OF VIRGINITY: IN days of old, as ancient poets fing, There reignM in Greece, a certain jealous king; Who, lead her bloom a lover mould deflower, Shut up his daughter in a lonefome tower. The walls were lofty, and the gate was ftrong, There pin'd the poor young lady all day long. No more in balls our princefs led the van, With each warm glance to fire the outward man ; Nor in her chariot rollM about the town, To cheapen lace, and mow the laft new gown; No fcandal heard, no captive fwain might fee, No foul to {hare her folitary tea. Herfelf as fair a girl as could be fcen, Was not a fecond lefs than fweet feventcen. And well you may fuppofe, that fuch a cage, Agreed but badly with her amorous age; She fondly fancied, that fuperior charms Would_bring fome fearlefs rover to her arms; And, as all maidens in the faihion bred, Think every hour five hundred, till they're weds So me, reluctant, bore the lofs of time, And faw her beauty languish in the prime. She panted for the height of human blifs, To pour her tranfports in a balmy kifs; And that fublimer joy we blufli to name, Which vat^juiftiM virgins feel the victor claim. A wicked dream would likewife now and then, Remind her females were but made for men. Thus, nor awake, nor -torturM into fleep, Could mournful Mifs forbear to wifti and weep ; 6 THE PROGRESS OF VIRGINITY. The fruit was ripe, but there appear'd no hand To crop the harveft of her promisM land. "No fond aflailant dar'd provoke his fate, All night nine mafliffs howl'd before the gate; Through the long day fhe fa\v the king alone, Who lov'd, admired, and plagu'd her as his own. .For, .as our parents in the prefent days Hear with difdain what honefl nature fays, Spurn from the heart what manly feeling fprings, And but inquire what cam the fellow brings; So this wife prince no proffer would content ; He claim'd a father's title to torment. But Venus foon, that Nymph who rules the ikies, Roll'd on the dungeon her indignant eyes; And firft her lovely cheeks were fluuYd with red, As when poor Mars and fhe lay (hackled on her bedj A cuckold's vengeance Vulcan chofe to boafl, And laughter fhook the pleas'd celeftial 'hoft. Then thus her filence to her fire fhe broke, The Monarch's pulfe beat harder while fhe fpoke. u What horrid doings in the world below ! " What blefl rewards on beauty to beflowl *' Forgive me, dear Papa; who would not wail, u A buxom virgin buried in a jail. u Go ! if your thunder has not flunnM your brains, " If yet one fpark of fire invigorates your veins, " For injur'd innocence your pity prove, u And florm, at once, yon fweet recefs of love." 'Twas thus her will, the wanton Queen exprefs'd ; And Jove rejoic'd at fuch a filthy jefl. His throne deferting down the fkies he flew, But near the prifon, when the Thunderer drew, His fhape he alter'd, as the flory's told, And through the roof fhot in a mower of gold. Yet foon his form refum'd; and (flraoge to tell!) Her royal highnefs bore her wrongs fo well ; With fuch intrepid patience Hopeful prefl, Juno's chafte huiband to her generous breaflj THE PROGRESS OF VIRGINITY. 7 That old Squire Padlock found himfelf beguil'd, And fa\v, full foon, his pretty maid with child. Here let us paufc; and in a moral fcale, Survey the merit of this famous tale. Whoe'er would rob a woman of her will, Muft, foon or late fucceed but very ill. Their native cunning, the fly fex refines, And fate, we fee, will fecond their defigns. Are love's advances with negledl repaid? The frozen Dotard mufl be difobey'd : He fawns, he lectures, and he bolts in vain; Infulted nature burfts the tyrant's chain. A thoufand furies fire his frantic fpoufe; A thoufand horns are fprouting on his brows. By Jove's device, the Mufe would make it known, That gold, like hunger, breaks through walls of ftonc. Nay, furly failors foften at the light ; And every foldier fwears you party right; And like a man of honour, fpills his blood, While one poor farthing in an hour's allow'd. So when the Sage of Macedon affail'd The citadels of Greece, he thus prevailed: And fire and fword but feldom forc'd his way; For Plutus, more politely, turn'd the key. Thus, in the boufe, when orators contend, A place, or penfion, makes each patriot bend. For gold, the father proflitutes his fon;* And the pimp hufband fees his fpoufe undone. For gold, the judge decides, the felon fwings, The parfon chatters, and the laureate fings. * See for example, the ftory of Old Nightingale, in the novel of Tom Jones. C 8 ] PECULIAR DISADVANTAGES OF A MODERN POET. IF a rafli rhymer honeflly intends To re&ify the follies of his friends, Lamenting loudly, as each former bard, For ninety generations has declar'd, " That flill, in fpite of parfons and their rules, " Nine-tenths of all mankind are knaves and fools; " Nay, that the beft of us, at times, are willing " To let our father flarve, and fave a milling;" He finds his virtuous efforts are in vain, " The Beaft of Reafon" hears him with difdain : The vulgar gape, the learn'd, like Shakefpeare's fool, Profefs themfelves too old to go to fchool: The clergy love no fermons but their own; Each crabbed pedant pants to pull him down ; Each puppy curfes the contemptuous dog ; And every fwindler fwears that he's a rogue. But, viewing matters on the other fide, What mall be gain'd by fawning upon pride? On panegyric, if he turns his head, The loweft of all beggars lies for bread; And every body knows he wants a hire, And every living mortal fcorns a liar. Sir Bob his bounty for his bawd referves, The lacquey fattens, but the laureate ftarves. Add, that the dull, the bufy, and the great, With boundlefs ridicule your labours treat; For almoft nobody has tafle, or time, To feel and cultivate the fweets of rhyme. The do&or muft trepan, diffet, and bleed; The prieft has work enough to prop his creed; And, while our reafon and our faith debate, To paint a heretic's tremenduous fate. DISADVANTAGES OF A MODERN POET. $ The lawyer wrangles in defence of knaves ; For ftallions, girls, and port, the Game Law Jufticc raves 5 Merchants, if men f fenfe, mind only trade ; Enfigns would always flrut on the parade: And which of thefe d'ye thjnk will condefcend To hear the fineft verfe that e'er was penn'd? Such rank ftupidity we fcarce need mourn, Since every clafs are ufeful in their turn. And who would reap the corn, or mend the roads, Were all intent on Tragedies and Odes ? How rare the man an office who has fill'd, At once in tactics and in metre fkill'd: Nay, of the learn'd themfelves, but very few That lonely calm Elyfian path purfue. In ancient days, when Science was confin'd, Philofophers had little elfe to mind ; Then, every fwain the fall of Jlion fung, And Sappho flow'd from every fchool-boy's tongue. But now, the properties of putrid air, Some pointers itch, the genius of a hare,* A rufty coin, a cockle-fhell, a mite, Provoke the fage to wonder and to write. While fome with air balloons amufe the mob, Some fail in fearch of rufhes round the globe, f Compute both age, and tonnage of the earth, What tadpole cholic gave your feetus birth, Teach cannoneers to level, and to load, Obferve a planet, or diffeft a toad; Tell the velocities of found and light, Or preach that fradlur'd limbs are firm and rigkt; Or, draining mental and material fight, * There is an eflay on this fubje& in the Gentleman's Magazine. f- What rational purpofe can be anfwered by a HORTVS sic cus? The plan of Captain Bligh's voyage was fuggefted thirty years ago by Voltaire. IO DISADVANTAGES OF A MODERN POET. Defcry a fhip five hundred leagues from land, * And prove the Day of Judgment juft at hand, t Nay, what is worft of all, the very men Who really feel the beauties of the -pe-n, Whofe tafte, in juftice, ought to be preferr'dy Who foar in fentiments above the herd. Who love your verfcs better than your wine, And read with more attention than they dine, None, but the fool who trufls them, can believe Of thefe, what numbers at his progrefs grieve? And fhould fuccefs await upon your lays, They dare not cenfure, but they 'will not praife; With all an eunuch's melancholy fpite, They growl at you, becaufe they cannot write: A gloomy filence, envy's pang imparts, Or fome cold hint betrays their canker'd hearts. 41 A fellow wanting food mould huftband time, " His idlenefs is more than half a crime; " Bards, in all ages, have been very poor, " And fome now famous beg from door to door :- '' The jingling tribe are juftly reckon'd fools, " Who never will attend to Reafon's rules. " And why mould vagabonds in quefl of bread, " Attempt to rhyme, to reafon, or to read." Such are the crumbs of comfort they bellow, And fuch the kindnefs you to critics owe. But one erroneous accent let them fpy, Then exultation fparkles in each eye ; And if an in for into has been us'd, Of downright fcorn of grammar you're accus'd. Sailors, when ftarving, deal their beer and grog, And rogues have dy'd to help a brother rogue : A porter with diftrefs will mare his" pay, And for the parifh poor, poor aclors play: * The honour of this difcovery, real or pretended, has been lately claimed by a Frenchman. f Whifton " lived long enough to fee TWO completions of hi* own Millenium." OBSERVER, No. 36. ON GOOD NATURE. Thefe may, 'tis always pofTible, do good, Nofpeculaticn petrifies their blood. But would a fixpence free you from the jail, To hazard that makes lettered friendmip fail. On every fide difficulties confpire, Be wife and throw your verfes in the fire. ON GOOD NATURE. THAT man has learn'd the wifeft way to live, Who can with pleafure injuries forgive. To plot for vengeance, brings inceffant woe, For each half-friend becomes a ferious foe. And fince ourfelves fo frequently miftake ; Why wonder at thofe errors others make. Such is the in-born bafenefs of mankind, A grateful heart we feldom hope to find ; But for revenge, the paffion is fo flrong, Not one in fifty would forgive a wrong. Chance but to Humble on his gouty toe, With honour's champion to the field you go, And mould your fortune when u the heroes join," Bury a piftcl bullet in his groin ; Then, while a tertian gives him time to cool, He fees, but dares not own, he was a fool. Endeavour, if you can, to be fedate ; And fhun the mad extremes of love and hate : Ccnfure, or praiie, be cautious to proclaim, Fcr all the iicr/d are wore than balftbejame: Scarce can .their virtues your efleem engage, Far lefs their vices vindicate your rage. Vie 11 / them ycu may, no doubt, with honeft fcorn, And wonder why fueh bedlamites were born. Hut never of yourielf, ab.urdly vaunt; The weakefl feel fume excellence you want. In no man's quai rel take an active part ; Eiit hide, if wife, the venom cf your heart. 12 ON GOOD NATURE. For when the mighty buflle has blown o'er, Thofe you defended, thank your zeal no more. Like Paul and Peter, quondam friends may fight, And the worft foes, like North and Fox unite. Let this grand maxim in your minds be fix'd, All mortal chara&ers are oddly mix'd ; The wifefl men have many a foolim thought, The dulleft dunce ads often as he ought: Thus, Job himfelf was peevifh for a time, And Nero reign'd five years without a crime. The honeft Cato fometimes drank too late, And Caefar fhed one tear for Pompey's fate. Since then the heart is feldom long the fame, T Tis but a phantom you can praife or blame. Parolles ftvears yo,ur verfes are divine; And all the Mufes melt in every line ; 44 Swift if alive, his fading fame would mourn, " And blufh for Gulliver, at every turn." To-morrow, not one ftauza can be read, Parolles grins, and hums, and fhakes his head; s Cants o'er fome axiom every fchool-boy knows, And next commences critic on your clothes. But in the flreet, while trifling thus you fland, Should fome fupcrior frankly fqueeze your hand, At once good humour glows in every rein, And all he fpurn'd is excellent again. In this infipid worthlefs thing you trace. The tqfle of almoft all the human race; Then let your calm difdain in filence die, Is ferious vengeance vented on a fly ? Pvemark yon maftifFbayM at by a cur, The generous brute difdains but to demur; Yet fhould the haplefs mifcreant fnarl at you, "What fcolding, kicking, yelping, would enlue. Your dog, before you venture to defpife, Vain man 1 be half as worthy, and as wife. If, e'er as author, you pretend to fame, All private pique, be patient, and difclaim ; JT7PITER AND THE FROGS. jo Were men of rhyme above unhappy fpite, Perhaps Pope's Dunciad had not feen the light. Thus, while a Sage his eloquence difplay'd, Rappee fell fhort, his fnuffbox was miflaid ; Around the Club he caft an eager eye, But net one pupil could a pinch fupply. The preacher's face contracted in a gloom, A hearty curfe refounded through the room ; His fpoufe on Patience claim'd her turn to plead, And Seneca was hurled at her head. JUPITER AND THE FROGS: JQsop afliires us, that of old the Frogs Were fo vain glorious of their bogs, 'Twas their opinion, They could be happy with a prince alone, A Hero from the tadpole throne, To fpread dominion. Two orators the loyalifts ele&ed, To make their plea by Jove refpeded, Or heard at leaft ; Both hopping up a turf eight inches high, Leveird their nofes at the flcy, Jove fmok'dthe jeft. The thundering forme ator took a ftool, (He was with Juno's leave no fool) And whirl'd it down ; The plenipoes prefum'd it was the devil- It pcpt with fuch a fquafh uncivil On each bald crown. B 14 ALL S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. That morning the Dutch nightingales lay quiet, Till one, impatient for a riot, Thruft forth his fnout, Survey'd his Majefly in all directions,. Made, like a Frog of fenfe, reflexions, And raised the rout. Their monarch now the hopeful tribe afcends ; My readers know what namelefs ends AJlool may ferve. But Jove, to pepper them, a Crane difpatch'd, Who dozens at a morfel fnatclVd ; Through every nerve, The croaking fugitives with terror fliook; Repentance burn'd in every look ; " Friends I" cry'd a Frog, 4t Jove was, for fuch a forry trick, our debtor, " We might have all behav'd much better " To poor King Log." ALL's WELL THAT ENDS WELL. SOME fage philofophers of old Were vain to undervalue gold, Alleging, that the learned rules, So loudly chatter'd in their fchools, Abundant pleafure could fupply, And teach us how to live and die. To die is nothing ; Are you fad? A halter always may be had. But the grand point at which we drive, Is how to keep ourfelves alive, When all the bittcrnefs of fcorn, And cold, and hunger, muft be borne. And what are virtue, fame, and health, Without the fovereign aid of wealth ? ALL S WELL THAT EXDS WELt. Keen appetite avails but little, Unlefs the purfe can purchafe " vittle*." What fignifies a handfome form If undefended from the ftorm? And will a taylor now a days, Rig out a rhymer for his lays? He tires, alas ! to hear us read, And murmurs but to break a thread. Then mind not what the pedants fay, But aEl with as much phlegm as they. Nor pamper up the parifh poor, But fweep the vermin from your door; Nor borrow with a view to lend, Nor pawn your breeches for a friend : But if to pay your claim he lingers, Wrench the laft farthing from his fingers : And mould that generous effort fail, Be fure to fend the rogue to jail. There let him rot, and ftarve to death, Nor quit him till his dying breath: And when his yelping fpoufe appears, With all her tatter'd flock in tears, To prove " Were hell demoliih'd, now, " Another muft be had for you ; " That Providence were falfely nam'd, " If fuch a monfter is not damnM;" To this ungrateful, faucy ftyle, Reply with a contemptuous fmile; Nor let remorfe your bofom rack, But plug your ears, and turn your back. The boys will pelt the crazy jade, Their mothers wonder why {he's mad; And fome fage adlive Juflice fend her To Bridewell, as an old offender. SWIFT. ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. INSCRIBED TO A YOUNG LADY. WHENEVER he, who fince the world began., Has felt for all the miferies of man; Who Felly's mean fufpicions to remove, Requefh us to remember HE is LOVE ; Who guides all nature to a noble end, By ways our weaknefs cannot comprehend; When from the tirefome feene of trifling here, He takes his fav'rites to a higher fphere, While the freed fpirit leaves her load of clay, And wonders we behind fubmit to Hay, The feelings of falfe pity are obey'd, And mortals mourn for thofe they call the dead. How many Ledlures have we heard in vain? But truths negle&ed, mufl be told again : Stupidity itfelf can fcarce forget That death is an inevitable debt ; That too much pleafure mufl itfelf deflroy ; That fomething flill is wanting in our joy ; That modefl Merit rarely meets her due ; That happinefs recedes as we purfue ; That Pride's poor play-things are not worth a figh ; That 'tis our highefl privilege to die; And all cur grief mufl fairly be confeft But felfifhnefs, or ignorance, at befl. You, Madam, anfwer " That our friend was young ; " That fcandal never flain'd his faultlefs tongue ; t

2 labour but light, In penning by thoufands the trifles I write ; Sit down, my dear fir, and your faculties try, To excel thefe loofe flcetches yopr fkill may defy. A frivolous art is oft hardeft to win, Eighteen workmen are paid for completing a pin: Or elfe for yourfelf manufacture your lays, Or blufli to repine at our pitiful praife. On this head allow me your ears to regale, With a fhort, but perhaps with- a fenfible tale. The birds all complain'd that in building a neft The Magpye was wifer by far than the refl ; THE M.VCPYE : A TALE. 2J That flic with a roof, could her lodging enclofe, And laugh from within at the rage of her foes; While to raife half a houle was the height of their power, And when a cloud broke they weredrench'dinthe fhower. Before a grand counc'J the matter was laid, And the Goofe, Rook, and Mavis, ambafladors made, By force or perfuafion, to pump from the Pye, In what might her fecrets of mafonry lie. 44 Lay two flicks," faidthe feather'd Vitruvius, "acrofs, 4 For that," cry'd the Rook, '.' I was ne'er at a lofs." 4 Mix your mud with frefh {rubble." The Mavis replied," 4 In treading firm plafter I fpurn at a guide." 4 If thefe," bawl'd the Goofe, "-be the beft of your rules, 4 1 fear nobody, Madam, will mind you but fools." 4 My very kind teachers," faid Mag, with a fneer, 4 If fo wife, and alert, what the plague brought you here!* u Go thatch for yourfelves; 1 ' fo me hopped away, And her neighbours have wanted a roof to this day* Our fiery applies to the rafhnefs of thofe Who by Nature, confin'd to the region of profe, Reproach, without mercy, the maflers of rhyme, For each petty fault as a perfonal crime; With the cant of fine tafle, while each cofFee-houfe ring?, 'Tis the pedant who barks, not the poet who {ings. The grave, learned gown-man, too jealous to love The bard whom his pension has plac'd him above, Would do well to remember, that, but for our art, He could not get vented the gall of his heart; That learning to genius can be but a foil ; As dung does notyorm though it fattens the foil ; That talents untutor'd may fear to the flcy, But a lame underftanding no crutches fupply. Then let each remarker malevolence drop, And humbly remember' this maxim of Pope: 44 He mould judge of a painter, whofe paintings excel, 14 And cenfure bad verfes, who verfifies well." ON THE LOSS OF ANCIENT LITERATURE. THE fathers of our church, 'tis widely known, Damn 1 *! every kind of learning but their own. Did not Tertullian's worfe than brutal rage Curfe and belie Menander's facred page ? And did not Gregory his power exert To burn the nobleft monuments of art? Before her faints, Rome faw her Livy fall, And Tully perifh'd to make way for Paul ; And Pindar's elegies, and Sappho's odes, For fome old monk's more pious palinodes. Polybius, Plutarch, Salluft, were deflroy'd, That Polycarp and Co. might fill the void. Four-fifths of Tacitus we feek in vain, He, too, was dull, indecent, and profane ; Attefted miracles Vhich were not true^ And hated (who could wonder?) every Jew. What indignation warms each fcholar's breaft, When charm'd with half a page, we lofe the reft. This wreck was eafy in a ftupid age, When priefts and Vandals fill'd the human ftage ; But did not all the world grow.learn'd and wife, When light once more defcended from the fkies! When Calvin's pen the Deity defin'd, And Luther's eye could pierce his Maker's mind! That famous pair who led the pious horde, Anew convuls'd the world with fire and fword, And, by the foggy truths for which they fought, *RepelTd the progrefs of pure manly thought. When rampant Harry quarrell'd with the Pope, And gave his Gothic confcience all it's fcope, In the worft terms a bagnio can afford, When Knox revil'd his queen toferve the Lord! At that all-glorious dawning of Reform Ten thoufatid volumes periih'd in the ftorm ; HORACE LIB. I. ODE 1. IMITATED. 2 And left fome novice think me too fevere, In their own words their facred logic hear. 44 Horace ! what need we more than David's metre, 4t Or can Demofthenes compare with Peter ? " Let Euclid's magic in the bonefire roll, " Do rhomboids and right angles fave the foul? " Be fure to pulverize the Book of James, 4t Subflantial virtue, that vile papift claims " Forgetting Paul, he fpurns at faith alone, * fc And bids our faintmip by our lives be (hown: " All Gate's candour was not worth a pin, " And Phocion's exit but a mining fin." Such was the cant of thofe atrocious days, On which weak bigots lavifh all their praife; Yet we on Omar's madnefs dare to lay, That lofs twelve Shakefpeares hardly could repay : With all their tricks our common fenfe to blind, With all their holy frauds to cheat mankind, The conclave never coin'd a viler lie, And here plain Truth may challenge a reply. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE I. IMITATED. FIELDING, and twenty others, tell us, That long fmce an Olympic race, There have been young light-headed fellows Who did not think it a difgrace, Though worth ten thoufand pounds a year, To play themfelves the charioteer ; But then they had a glorious aim, To rival fome pofti lion's fame. Suppofe a pamphleteer be witty, And teafe the Minifter with jokes, The patriot fages of the city, Prefent their freedom in in a box; 28 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE 1. IMITATED. And if he takes uncommon fcope, Deferving well to flretch a rope, They never think it a reproach, When harnefs'd in their hero's coach. And he who fills the jockey's part, Or charms with petulance the crowd, Is jufl as happy in his art, And fifty times at leail as proud As the grave quarto-building fage, Who fancies that Apollo's page, Will pay the vaft arrear of fame, And through all nations found his name. The Git who ne'er a fous beflows, Of all the guineas he has won; Who, let himfelf get food and clothes, Cares not what orphans are undone ; More merit claims than he who's willing^ To (hare with Want his only fliilling ; Whofe penury may patch his coat But pays the taylor to a groat. The failor who in fearch of bread, Mufl broil below the torrid zone, Prefers the life he's forc'd to lead, Scorns all profeflions but his own ; Is happy round the world to roam, And pities fools who lounge at homej In Danger's lap he's lull'd afleep, J^or minds the terrors of the deep. The foldier too enjoys his pride, And when the drum begins to rattle, Forgets the drummer flay'd his hide, And thinks of nothing but the battle. Through blood, and fire, and froft, and fnow, To ferve his betters let him go; HORACE, LIB. I. ODE I. IMITATED. 29 Returning with an oaken leg, The man of war rnufl flarve or beg. The Chilian from his native height, Who hears below the rolling thunder, Through the dark bofom of the night, Down rufhes to revenge and plunder; Like Pyrrhus in the fack of Troy, Nor fights to conquer but deftroy. Yet this barbarian feeks a name, And bids the fong atteft his fame. And thus, whatever be our Ration, Our hearts in fpite of us Declare, We feel peculiar confolation, And tafle of happinefs a mare. Your laureate's chearful, when at times You condefcend to hear his rhymes; He plunges into verfe again, And talks of hunger with difdain. Our flate with all our reach of thought, We were not born to comprehend; But peace will come if wifely fought, And pleafure if we gain a friend. Then let us not our fenfes drown, Staring at fhadows in the moon; Gueffing why Saturn's belt was given. His fatellites if fix or feven. Ciij [ 3 3 AN OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE TO THE TRAGEDY OF DOUGLAS, Spoken at Dumfries on tbe i^tb June, 1 780. "WHEREAS, it feems, this week to be fhe vogue, To tag fmart Plays, with a dull Epilogue ; Living but by the humour of the day, Though very far to feek, for what to fay, We've got one, in your ears I'll try to cram it; Critics, ye're welcome, if ye pleafc, to damn it. The wag who on your fervant cafls an eye, Will, as we all have done, impatient cry, *' Shall every dunce fquirt doggrel through his quill, " More rugged than the rumbling of a mill ; tc And does the fellow fancy he'll fay more *' Than men of tafte have fully faid before, * fc That fenfe is no where facrific'd to found ; " That every fcene is built on claffic ground; " That all mufl here acknowledge and admire, *' An Otway's fweetnefs, and a Shakefpeare's fire. 44 No lines are overdaub'd, till they difguft, " But every word is pleafing, nat'ral, juft j *' And every thought fo happily difplay'd, 4t No more, no lefs, was proper to be faid." Thus ye give verdict nor dare we deny Our verfes humble, and our tafk too high. One fentence let us fay, as yet unfaid, Our debts of thanks at leafl (hall all be paid; That who like us *, North Britain's fons may truft, Shall find their fouls are generous, great, and juft; That on their friendly hofpi table more, No Coxcombs hifs rakes pelt or bullies roar. Oft has French pertnefs in our fcribbling age, Prefum'd to diftate precepts for the ftage ; Chanted their prattling volumes up and down, And told all Europe Shakefpeare was a clown. * The company were from England. While from the chair by Britifh genius hurl'd, ivouui.y drives them round the Weflern world, \Vhile o'er Misfortune's precipice they hafte For genius, learning, eloquence and tafte, Athens whofe name the friends of wit revere, May one day meet, who knows ? a rival here. PROLOGUE, On t be falling oftbe Gallery of Dumfries Theatre on the itfb June, 1780. His learn'd phiz with deep importance big, Stern as your Sheriff in his three tail'd wig, Some critic, when he fees me, with a fneer Will cry ; u what vengeance brings that fpouter here. 1 ' Ye, as who would not, his decrees admit, And an indignant growl runs through the pit. Our friends above while fury fires each eye, Apples, fuck'd oranges, and oaths Jet fly. The Ball-room echoes to poor Cuthsll's * rout, While terror petrifies the folks without, For fifty wile old women tell the town, That Providence once more has brought the gallery down I Then in a minute what a fhoal arrives, Aunts, mothers, daughters, fitters, fvveethearts, wives, For though they'll cry ct the fellows can't enchant us," The dear good natur'd fools don't care to want us. In tears they come to carry off the flain, But when you tell them that their tears are vain, Prefs'd to each panting heart their clamours flop, And with a kifs wipe off the falling drop; Their pious tongues the Aory book expound, As how they've caught you on the Devil's ground;! Louder than Whiteiield will the Whetftones clack, And clap a downright judgment on your back. * The name of the manager. j- Tertullian was the father of this wild fable. 35 VERSES WRITTEN IN A FINE SUMMER MORNING, With grief, folicitude and fhame opprefs'd We would not wifh to break an ill-timM jeft ; Our pride was, we muft own, completely humbled, When lafl week from yon roof our patrons tumbled; But fince 'tis certain that the danger's pafl, Since the firfl accident mall be the laft, We trufl this tragic farce may form hereafter, A ten days theme for merriment and laughter. VERSES WRITTEW IN A FINE SUMMER MOBXISC. THOUGH the whole univerfe be glad, When Summer in his glory reigns, Reflection makes my bofom fad, While vegeUtion fwells the plains. For if a girl your love hath won, Should fate beflow the darling prize, One tender evening cannot drown The ardour kindled by her eyes. And in the height of paflion's fever, If dawning forces you to part, From her embrace, perhaps for ever, A figh will furely heave your heart. So, when I fmell the blufhing rofe, And hear the birds on every bough, And think how foon December fnows Muft bury all that's charming nowj When polar nakednefs fucceeds The flow'ry tribes which deck the green, No Mavis warbles in the meads, And not a iingle leaf is feen; TRICKLE: A CHARACTER I feel this joyous Summer day, .. an its beauties dearly bought; I cannot bid my foul be gay, Nor bear the bitternefs of thought. PRICKLE: A CHARACTER. WHEN Prickle kindly condefcends, By learning, eloquence, and wit. To teach, or entertain his friends, With filent awe the circle fit. He lectures, as Achilles fought, One neither needs refift nor fly; So deep, fo brilliant, every thought, Conviction blufhes to reply. We wonder how a {ingle head Was fit to fludy, or retain The world of volumes he has read, And planted in his fertile brain. But, mark him burfting into rage At barbers bawling to be paid; Or with his trembling fpoufe engage, Becaufe his fnuffbox was miflaid ; Or, fpouting bawdry with a punk, Blafpheming with an air fo cool ! For human nature never funk, As far in any former fool. Or ftagg'ring home at break of day, Or gormandizing at a feaft, And then, in Prickle's words you'll fay, " Is man fuperior to a beaft ?" C 34 ] COMMON SENSE. WHAT fignify the wealth of nations, The wifdom of a thoufand fages, Where the gout fpreads its depredation?, Or through each nerve a tertian rages ? The bulk and diftance of the fun, With fad indifference I read, When, to my knee, Lovers pledges run, And, bootless beg a piece of bread* Plain men lack leifure to lament The wreck of Plautus and Menander: When thofe we owe their vengeance vent, In fearch of plagues we need not wander. Though Tully from the ftiades afcend He cannot lend yon bankrupt aid j Nor ftern Demoflhenes defend His honour, till his debts are paid. Some doubt, while fome deride, his grief; Each honeft pang reproaches double ; His friends, 'if he deferves relief, Convince him friendfhip is a bubble. But let him bear a brazen front, With impudence and cunning gifted, The world fhall fmile as it was wont, And fcorn, to humbler guilt be ihifted. t 35 THE PRIMUM MOBILE. No taylor will take up his needle, No cobler patch a pair of fhoea, No lawyer with a jury wheedle, When difappointed of his dues. No furgeon will extract a tooth, No ftrumpet exercife her trade, No parfon preach eternal truth, Where not a fixpence can be made. Unbaptiz'd, bare-tail'd you mufl wander, The lofs of every lawfuit fee, Nay, want in this chafle age, a pander, Unlefs you can prefent a fee. That artifl only toils for nought, Who, in adulatory verfes, While greatnefs fpurns him as it ought, A great man's rrioral worth rehearfes. ON THE DIVERSITIES OF LIFE. THE human race, a thoufand various ways, Purfue the road to happinefs and praife; Fancies fo fingular infpire each foul, Scarce would you think one artift made the whole. The flattefl dunce fome humour cannot hide, Which marks him out from all mankind beilde; For in the mind, as plainly as the face, Features peculiar to itfelf we trace* Though all in many points, refemblance claim, No iinglc pair are perfectly the fame j .36 ON THE DIVERSITIES OF LIFE. So every grain of fand, the learn'd atteft, Varies in fize and figure from the reft. The band term'd heroes, launch a privateer, In queft of fpoil through every clime they fleer; Thirft, famine, quickfands, and the fcurvy fcorn, By three Inch planks fcarce through the tempefl borne ; On every danger, every inftantled, Not one in ten among them dies abcd. Another clafs prefer a quiet farm, No martial ardour bids their fpirits warm ; They never fee the deeps beneath them roll, Fry at the line, or flriver at the pole ; Their rough but folid fenfe, nor feeks the main, Nor fcales the ramparts for a guilty gain. Their pride is but to pay their landlord's rent, And through inceflant toil they drudge content. The merchant, by his debtors, daily wrong'd, Of wares which never to himfelf belong'd, Submits with patience to the will of Fate, And, fince he muft be cheated, learns to cheat; Hears with a fmile each female and each fop, And fpins out life in ftalking round his mop ; But recommend the compafs or the plow, Contempt and terror darken on his brow. With pudding, beef, and porter, fully fed, And every morn, to fnore till breakfaft, bred, How mould he with the ruftic rife to work, Or combat famine with corrupted pork; Or roufe to rage the mark's terrific form, Or mount the main-maft in a midnight ftorm ; Or when the burning deck beneath him rends, And death in every horrid fhape defcends ; When through each crafhing port the grapemot fweep, And the torn yards roll headlong to the deep; Each burfting fcam fucks in the heavy flood, And the grim boatfwain almoft wades in blood; hall this poltroon behind the counter bred, Who fhudders but to fee a fick man bled, 37 While half the fhip is into fplinters blown, Snatch the laft fecond as her hull goes down ? Survey the victor with a markfman's eye, And give one parting broadfide ere he die. The vintner, but a fycophant at beft, Muft bow the knee to every fotted guefl; And flill the more you're mad enough to fpend, The more Ifcariot calls himfelf your friend. To pleafe the company his brains he'll drown, Nor dares affirm his foul itfelf his own. Whate'er you fey, whatever be your flile, He fcconds your aflertion with a fraile; Train'd to debauch, and flattery, and fraud, He's hardly ten degrees above the bawd. Here equity protefls that nine in ten, Are not one iota worfe than common men ; Nay, half a dozen mofl of us have feen, Whofe hearts were upright and whofe hands were clean; And fhould but one prove honeft in a fcore, For what profeffioncan you promife more? The do&cr, the attorney, and the prieft, Have furnifh'd merry bards with many a jeflj One cloud of fages pore upon the iky, Others engrave the features of a fly; While mad to know what never can be known, In metaphyfics fome their fenfes drown. The chemift feels a jufl and curious paflion, But botanizing now feems moft in fafluon j And yet it's votaries make wond'rous din, On many topics dearly worth a pin. For though the oak our juft attention claim, Does every pigmy plant deferve the fame? To fquander pages on fome ufelefs weed, Is but a very filly talk indeed; Their language too, at which all mankind flares, No mortal tongue articulates but theirs*. * A very intelligent writer once aflured the Editor, that Bo- tary was the moa trifling ftudy in the world; and that Linnsus D 3& ON THE DIVERSITIES OF LIFE, The fon of grammar on all thefe looks down, He conjugates a verb, declines a noun, And could he but correct one claffic page, Kis name defcends to every future age. With him obfcenity becomes divine, If Horace chanc'd to pen the precious line. Supreme dictator in fome pariih fchool, He dreams, perhaps, that Shakefpeare was a foo! ; That Tully mufl be ftudied ere we fpeak, That all true wit is bcrrow'd from the Greek*; That melody is only to be found, Where da Ay Is gallop, and fpondees drawl round. 'Tis poffible the reader may inquire, To what diflinftion I myfelf afpire, Let fongflers of fuperior notes to mine, Sing Rodney rufhing through the Gallic line, himfelf was more than half a fool. This perfon was at that very time compiling a Syftem of Botany, which every body has feen. Such is often the harmony between an author's converfation and his works. * " To attempt to under/land poetry, without having diligent. 11 ly digefled this treatife," (Ariftotle's Poeticks) " would be as < aSfurd and impo/fible, as to pretend to a (kill in geometry, with- " out having fludied Euclid," Warton's Effay on Pope, Vol. I. p. 170. By this remark, we learn, that Homer did not " underfland " poetry;" for as he died many centuries before Ariftotle was bom, he could riot have perufed the faid treatife. It is to be fear- ed, that Shakefpeare J c. In his addrefs to Shylock, however, in the beginning of the fourth aft, he kindles into the moil generous and eloquent indignation. We fee, with much fatisfadlion, that good humour does not merely play on the furface of his mind, but is ingrafted on a manly feeling heart. Du- ring the trial that follows, he preferves a ftrift and be- coming filence : But the moment that his friend is out of danger, the poet, ever attentive to chaitity of charaftcr HINTS RESPECTING BOTANT BAT. 57 and to nature, reprefents him relapfing into the mofl tu- multuous exultation. There is awhimficalportraitof this charming phantom drawn by Baflanio, which I beg leave to recommend to James Bofwell, Efquire, as a motto for the title page of his Life of Dr. Samuel Johnfon, if print and paper mall ever be fquandered on a fecond edition. " Gratiano fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing, more " than any man in all Venice: his reafons are as two " grains of wheat hid in two bumels of chaff! You fhall " feek all day e'er you find them ; and when you have u them, they are not worth the fearch." The learned and facetious Lord Monboddo was converf- ing fome years ago on this 1 aft topic: " I have lived," faid his Lordfhip, u to fee my country humbled in arts, " and humbled in arms ; but I never expeded to have u feen England humbled to the admiration of Dr. Samuel " Jobnfon." T. T. TO THE PRINTER. SIR, Ix a late paper you informed us, on official authority-, that previous to the i8th of March 1791, two thoufand and twenty-nine convicts have been fhipped from England for New South Wales. We alfo learned, that prior to the gth of February in the fame, year, the expences of this eftablifhment amounted to three hundred and feventy-ibur thoufand pounds. Befides this fum we are told of contin- gencies, " that cannot as yet be Hated. 1 * It was for the" minifter's credit to make his project appear as frugal as poffible, and to fupprefs a part of this enormous expendi- ture to ferve the temporary purpofes of debate. We may fafely affirm, that the contingencies referred to, make no trifling fum. Ten additional months fall now alfo to be added to the account; and it is not unreafonable to com- pute the total expence, up to this date, at fix hundred j8 BINTS RESPECTING BOTANY BAT. thoufand pounds. Thefe exiles have not, upon an aver- age, been more than three years in New South Wales. During that fhort period we fee that each of them has coft this country three hundred pounds. As the climate is much more healthy than our own, they may be expeft- ed to furvive tranfportation for twenty years to come. By that time, the additional expence of each convitft will amount to, perhaps, fix hnndred pounds. It may in- deedbe alleged, that before that time, the country will be reduced to a flate of cultivation. But a circumftance men- tioned by the governor fufficiently ihows the great diftance and uncertainty of fuch a profpeft. It coft him and a party five days to penetrate thirty miles into the defart; and the fatigues they underwent during this journey were excefiive. In the fame paper you tell us, that eighteen hundred and thirty additional convifts were then under orders for fhip- ping. It is impoflible to eftimate, with any degree of cer- tainty, what may be the annual expence of this colony before the end of the eighteenth century. By a very mo- derate efiimation we may fuppofe, that before ten years clapfe, the colony will receive at leafl ten thoufand ad- ditional convidls ; and it is but fair to compute, that of the whole number by that timetranfported, ten thoufand will then be alive, and maintained at the expence of Government. Now, if each of thefe gentry mall coft us only thirty pounds a year, the whole annual expence will amount to three hundred thoufand pounds. At the end of twenty years it may rife to double that fum. To this we muft add the charming item, of fifty or an hundred pounds Sterling per head for the expence of their voyage. Will the Britifh nation, with its eyes open, walk into fuch a gulf? Had each of thefe criminals been difcharged from the bar, it is very unlikely that he would have committed one tenth part of the mifchief by abufing his liberty at home, which he entails on us by enduring flavery abroad. Thefe premifes are unanfwcrable, and we muft infer that the Botany-bay fcheme is the moft abfurd, prodigal, and impracticable vifion that ever intoxicated the mind HINTS RESPECTING BOTANT BAT. 5Q of man. A poor fellow deals a watch, or a horfe worth five or ten pounds. The lofs is paltry, but mark the con- fequences. His trial, in Scotland at leaft, coils the pub- lic, between expence and perfonal trouble to individuals, perhaps, four times that fum; and then his tranfportation, the devil knows where, and the devil knows why, per- petuates a burden upon his country to the amount of ten times the lofs incurred by the robbery and trial put to- gether. In the modern ftate of matters a criminal when convifted does not deferve that title for breaking a mop, or a ftable; but, becaufe, if he efcapes the gallows he plunders the public treafury of three, or five, or perhaps fifteen hundred pounds. Tranfportation to North Ame- rica was, in comparifon, but a ride before breakfafl. New- South Wales is at the diflance of fix or eight thoufand leagues, if we include the windings and turnings nece- flary on the pafiage. In the former country, the price of a felon, when landed, was fufficient to pay the expence cf his voyage. But in the latter, a footpad, the moment we fet him on more, is enrolled with many other right ho- nourable gentlemen in the refpe&able and ufeful band of national pen/loners. There is not an old woman in the three kingdoms who cculdnot have fuggefted a better refource. A bridewell in each county, on the plan of the Panopticon*, and under a few obvious regulations, would effectually difpofe of convicts ; and inflead of cofting the nation an enormous annual expence, would produce a large annual revenue. Mr. Pitt has, however, pledged his character and abilities in fupport of this project, and he will, no doubt, adhere to it with his ufual^rmne/}, till the period of his refigna- tion. If he mall continue in office for^ten years longer, every fool in this country will fee what every man of fenft fees already. By that time this chimera will be treated with univerfal execration, as a millftone hanging at the f This is a prifon on a new and improved plan, by which pri. foners can be kept entirely folitary, without a pofllbility of cor- rupting each other. 60 BEMAKKS ON SCOTS POETRY. neck of public credit ; and the new minifter, as a fpeci- men of his importance, will inflantly abandon the fettle- ment. But indeed this ineftimable defcription of Britilh. iubjefts may very pofiibly fave him that trouble, by cut- ting the throats of their taikmafters, and embarking on board the {hipping in the bay. Could this revolution be accomplifhed without bloodmed, it is in itfelf an event extremely defireable. Edin. Dec. 16, 79i TUMBLEDOWN. TO THE PRINTER. SIR, FOR about five years pafl, we have been amufed by the Jbookfellers with an inceflant chorus of verfes in the Scottim dialect. Every county in Scotland has a num- ber of words and phrafes peculiar and intelligible to it- felf only, and it is ufual for the bard to borrow, without felcdlion, the provincial vulgarifins to which he has been accuftomed. Before an author can pleafe, he mufl make himfelf underftood. T^ a native of Annandale the dia- Jefts of Aberdeen^' 'id of Somerfet are equally difcor- dant. The fame ~. iucli poetry can hardly be extenfive or lafting. But befides, thefe writers commonly deform their pages with every antiquated phrafe which perverted induftry can difcover ; and it would not be difficult, though indeed invidious and ufelefs, to point out paffages where vulgarity itfelf is evidently mifunderllood and mif- applied. When a man of fenfe intends to publifh in rhyme, he will firft make hi- ""If familiar with at lead a few of the beft and mofl popular Englifh poets. By an attentive comparifon of their works with his own, he will either learn the art of elegant compofition, or the propriety of filence. When a perfon difcharges upon the public a vo- lume of dull and tirefome verfes, it is charitable to be- lieve he is unacquainted with Swift and Dryden. In knowledge of books, the clafs of poets I mention are fbmc REMARKS OM SCOTS POETRY. f limes deficient ; and thus between artificial groflhefs and actual ignorance, there is no wonder that they often fall fhort of perfection. Jt is indeed a principal argument with their admirers, thajt a poet of true genius does not require the help of learning. The author of a quaint efTay on ori- ginal compofition feems inclined to fanctify this chimera. But Horace more properly fays, u I neither fee what learn- " ing can accomplifli without genius, or genius without learning." The advocates of ignorance have adduced Shakefpeare as an example of uncultivated excellence ; but thofe critics talk at random who aflert him to have been illiterate. He underftood both French and Latin, though perhaps imperfectly. His extenfive acquaintance with ancient and modern hiflory, and the completencfs of his ideas on every fubject, atteft, with a force far beyond the parade of ci- tations, that lie mufl have been a very diligent reader. When he reprefents Bohemia as a maritime country*, and an Illyrian as referring to "the bells of St. Bennett," we can only fuppofe that he was fporting with his audience. His ftyle alfo, wherever he chufes to exert himfelf, is more various, more nervous, ani ( ->ore elegant, than that of any Englifh writer of the fixtj Century. Of poets in the Scottifli dialect, the befl and greateft, beyond all companion, is Allan Ramfay. He appears to have ftudied Dryden's works with much attention, iince his verfes flow with the moil pleaCng volubility. His provincial phrafes are few, when compared with thofe of fome of his imitators; and at leafl in the Gentle Shepherd, h has felected them with fuch dexterity that they are al- jnoft equally familiar in every part of the kingdom. But this is only a fecondary part of its iiicnc. A vein of folid good fcnfe, a nice difcrimnation of character, a nervous elegance, and a pathetic fimplicity of exprtflion ; in a word, the genuine language of nature, of paflion, and of poetry,, place this pafloral comedy almoft beyond our praife. From the chemift and aftronomer, to the girl at Winter's Tale. f Twelfth Night. i F fe REMARKS ON SCOTS POETHT. her fpinning-wheel, the poet's eloquence kindles every heart, and irrefiftibly commands our tears. It is true that we have here no bawdry, no jealous alderman cuckolded, no amorous fuicide, no wire-drawn fohlo- quy, no pedantic ill -jointed epithet, no raving defpot, fuch as never exifted but in the frenzy of a modern play wright. But the Gentle 'Shepherd does nor reft its repu- tation on the caprice of a theatrical audience. Were all the copies of Ramfay's comedy annihilated, the grateful memories of his countrymen would eagerly fupply the lofs. Many of his readers have almoft the whole poem by heart ; and what other Scottifh author can pretend to fuch indelible admiration ? It has been faid, that Ramfay did not write this play ; and when that ftory was no longer tenable, it has been loudly affirmed, that at leaft a great part of it was writ- ten by fomebody elfe ; and the whole corrected by gen- tlemen who were the author's patrons. The word patron is pronounced, by men of fenfe, with a tone of contemp- tuous pity. If thefe critics fuggefted any proper altera- tions, this feems to have been the only adl of benevolence which they beftowed on the author ; for, in the proper flyle of patronage, they fuffered him to live poor, and die bankrupt*. In Scotland, the firft circulating library was kept by Allan Ramfay. His original profeffion is often mention- ed by himfelf ; and to thofe who are weak enough to de- fpife it, we may reply that Ramfay " was not a man who " could mean by a mean employment." T. T. His debts were afterwards paid by hi$ fon, the famous painter. C 6 S ] THE LAW SUIT. A TALK* raoM BUCHANAN, LIB. i. rnc. t. CALENUS, when his purfc was light, Got twenty guineas as a lo*an, Swearing he would repair his plight, And pay me e'er a week was gone. A year went off, the lawyer Aulus i Perfuades me to commence a fuit, Crying, " the rafcal /han't cajole us, u His bond, Sir, cannot bear difpute I" But lo ! this paper war has lafted Longer than Homer's fiege of Troy; Ten times my debt has Aulus wafted x And ten times more would fain deftroy. Now, Cnce I'm not fo rich as Clive r Nor yet for Neftor's age defign'd, I'll quit the combat while alive, Nor force my heir to purchafe wind. Calenus, at the triple tree, Ought furely his fuccefs to tell; But Aulus, no fufficient fee Can hope for till he reaches hell. Wherever fuch attornies trudge, Who mountains on a wart have thrown, By all that's juft ! my lord the judge, Mu ft dive a ftory farther down. C 6 4 ON THE CHARACTER OF A WIFE. A WIFE, you fay is an expensive toy, But, wanting coft, we cannot purchafe joy; The richeft mifer muft remain in rags, Unlefs he condefcend to loofe his bags; The thread-bare bard, a coach \vho cannot hire, Is fain to ftradJle through December's mire; And he, whofe income won't extend to port, To the more frugal ale-houfs muft refort. Before a doclor takes the pains to kill, His patient's purfe muft pay for every pill: A Britifh Premier too muft bribe the boufe, Before they'll vote his Majefty a fous. At church, you know, as well as at the play, We cannot have a feat unlefs we pay; And you and I, till fome few pence are given, Muft like two fpaniels from the pew be driven j Nor gain one glimpfe of glory, or of grace, Ere firft we buy \hefreedom cf the place. Tor all commodities a price is paid, Why, then, refufe your money for a maid? A wife, you fay, deftroys domeftic eafe, You cannot then do juft whate'er you pleafe. But tell me truly, when a fool is drunk, And all his fenfes in the liquor funk, Shall he be fuffer'd to difturb the ftreets^ And bruife with every vagabond he meets? Embrace infection, founder in the mire, Or, reeling'homeward fet his houfe on fire? Far better fate attends the happy man Who weds a mate as early as he can: His faithful fpouf&his every want attends (One fpoufe is worth ten thoufand bottle-friends); She natters, ftrips, and rolls him into bed, Then binds a fillet round his achh}g_heacii . ON THE CHARACTER OF A WIFE. She covers, carefully, each wearied limb, For all her wimes centre but in him; And, while coherently to curfe he tries, The briny mower comes buriling from her eyes. In humble tone me ventures to complain, He fwore lafl night he ne'er would foak again; Reminds him that he plays a thoughtlefs party And hints what agonies have wrung her heart. Then which all other mortals would defpife, Befide her hopeful hufband down me lies. But left his horrid breath may do her harm, She clings behind, to keep his moulders warm. A wife, befides, will bring you girls and boys;; And though the monkies make incelTant noife, Though other children's din you cannot bear, Yet theirs, believe me, wont annoy your ear. None but an actual father ever knows With what fond joy a father's heart overflows, To fee all Lilliput frifk up and down,. When every look reminds him of his own, Or her's, who, in the fummer days of youth, Taught him the charms of tendernefs and truth. And are you fick ? 'Tis then her actions prove (No words can paint) the frenzy of her love: 'Tis then the grandeur of her foul mines forth, Then firfl you learn the vaflnefs of her "worth. Your kindefl comrades in attendance fail,- For all muft weary of a fick man's tale; But, night and day, me ftill is at your fide, More foft, more charming far, than when a bride; For though corroding cares her bloom deflroy, Her generous love excites fuperior joy. She watches every motion of your eye, Your every want impatient to fupply. Affected fmiles conceal her inward care, Hopelefs herfelf, yet checking your defpair; While oft, in fpite of all her female art, A figb efcaping, cuts you to the heart. Fiij 66 ON THE CHARACTER OF A lYlFr. Hovr cold mere Friendfhip, when compar'd to this; Without fuch women, what were human blifs. And fhould, as it may happen, Fortune frown, And from the height of greatnefs hurl you down, When every friend, as ufual, turns his back, And your foul lingers on the mental rack ; When every infult muft be cooly borne, The pedant's pity, and the rival's fcorn ; When thofe you trufted, their connections change, And thofe who hate you, give refentment range; When every look, where e'er you fhew your head, Is fure to make you feel " your kingdom's fled;" When fordid Prudence fliffens every face, And every tongue exults in your difgrace ; * At fuch a time, does female friendfhip fail ? Jfo; me herfelf attends you to the jail. Such friendfhip cheaply with a world were bought; Her bofom jaft admits one fingle thought. Your peace of mind me breathes but to purfue, Vor dreads a dungeon to be fhar'd with you. She, too, when death arrives to your relief, Shall watch its progrefs with the purefl grief; Perform each duty that diftrefs can crave, And, with fond tears bedew her hufband's grave; And flill, with you, her tender mem'ry teems, Still your loVd image haunts her broken dreams, And blafts each phantom of returning peace, Till Heav'n, in pity, gives her own releafe. Such are the fex we modeflly defpife, Arid fuch the fools whom every fool decries. To this you anfwer with a fcornful fmile, That common fenfe adopts a colder flyle; That many a wife turns out fo very bad, As foon to drive the tamefl partner mad. The fcrub, who bargains for a mafs of gold, May catch, no doubt, a ilattern or a fcold. * No paflage, in any writer, can be more inftm&ive or inte- refting, thanthe fallof the Dukeof Sully, as defcribcdbyhimCelf. ON HEADING MEMOIRS OP FREDERICK III. The brute whofe paffion is but rank defire, May feel ten days exhauft his carnal fire. The faol who marries for the fake of wit, Is fure to find himfelf feverely bit; And he who feeks a fpoufe of noble blood, Muft bear with patience, lectures long and loud- But men of fenfe, with reafon, hope to find A graceful perfon, with a modeft mind; Whofe various charms we ever muft admire*. At once the choice of wifdom and defire; And for mere merit, if you fearch around y Believe me, that is always to be found. The fureft rules for chufmg fuch a mate,. Would furnifh topics for a fine debate ;J But, left the fpirit of the verfe expire, Your preacher, for the prefent, mail retire. ON READING MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK III. BY JOSEPH TOWE1S, L. L. D. A CLOVD of books o'erwhelms the prefent day y Worthless alike of cenfure and ofpraife; Where not a fingle fentence in the whole Exifts, but what the wretched Grub hath ftole: Or home-bred nonefenfe mould he rafhly fquirt y The pilfered diamond fparkles through his dirt. What indignation muft each fcholar feel, When Plutarch's limbs are broke upon the wheel j When fweet Herodotus our ears hath tir'd, And nervous Salluft is no more admir'd; Sublime Thucydides his murther mournsy And fage Polybius to a dotard turns, 8 ON READING MEMOIRS OF FREDERIC* III. The heart, when Xenophon forbears to win, And lively Juftinflumbers in Rollin. * While thefe reflections had begun to rife, A frefh delinquent rufli'd upon our eyes ; Twelve hundred pages pouring from the prefs, Revile the benefactor kingdoms blefs. On martial worth, if Slander muft await. What future monarch mall contend with Fate ? Had Frederick's heroes gain'd no higher fame, Than this poor pamphleteer has right to claim,. Poland as yet had unpartition'd been, Silefia Hill obey 1 d her bigot Queen; Nor Prague's wide bofom blaz'd with Pruffian fire, Nor Daun from Torgan hailed to retire. His portrait had not mock'd each dauber's hand, Nor o'er thefe heavy volumes, Patience yawn'd.f Robertfon's Hiftory of Greece may be quoted as a pleafing; exception to this general cenfure. f When this Prince fucceeded to his father, the Pruffian do- minions did not contain two millions and a half of inhabitants. At his death, after a reign of forty-fix years, the number exceed- ed four millions ; befides above two millions in the provinces of Silefia and Pomerellia. And fo much at eafe do the peafantry feel themfelves, that the annual number of births furpafies that of burials, by upwards of fifty thoufand. Baron Trenck is an un- fufpey very curious particulars omittd by Mr. Walter; they ought to be extracted, and fubjoined to the next edition of his narrative-. As the book is extremely fcarce, this improvement may in a few years be impracticable. " The Czar banifhes you to a town under the Pole, and his " fublime generofity allows you twopence a-day." VOLTAIRE'S Hiftory of Ruflla. OR, A PROSPECT OF LIFE. 71 The favage of Greenland now fhrinks in his cavt, From the froft of his long winter night ; For a dungeon more horrible far than the grave, He mull lofe all the blellings of light. Then cold as it is, we'll be thankful for home, T.O the focial fire fide we'll refort, And defy all the cares that to-morrow may come, With a catch and a bumper of port. We'll forget for one evening that mankind are knave*, The fordid adorers of pelf ; That our friend .And his good heart is quite difgufted; He fmiles at Friendfhip as abfurd, And blumes at the very word. Forgive your Bard this boyifh crime Of telling all his thoughts in rhyme, Protefling the refemblance true, And owning, he rememberM you. Not all the candour you poffefs, Not all that fond defire to blefs, That zeal to publifh worth unknown, And blaze all merit but your own, Should Fortune fnatch her gifts away, Could fave you many a difmal day ; The warmefl friend would foon grow cold, The wifefl wifh to fave his gold, And all the poor dependent croud, Lament they could not do you good ; With ferious anguifh hear you mourn, And leave you, never to return. Authors would feldom crofs your gate, They leave Misfortune to her fate. We read the labours of the pen, And think them more than common men;. But fad Experience bids us fay, They're only form'd of vulgar clay. Whate'er a pedant may pretend, Ifcariot provM a better friend; His frozen heart is hard as fteel, 'Tis quite a vulgar thing to feel. The cant of " thefe degenerate days," Is but a poor unmeaning phrafe ; For knaves at prefent do no more Than what their fathers did before. A man whofe mind is amply fraught With all which Greece and Rome have taught, VERSES ON FRIENDSHIP. Mud know what Socrates deferv'd, And how his fhoulders would have flarv'd, Had not the poor Profeffor fpoke, And begg'd his pupils for a cloak. And can you ftill fuppofe your friends Superior to all little ends ? The fhrewdeft man Apollo knew Could only find a fcoundrel crew j. And can we in the living race Sublimer, fofter, feelings trace; The prefent age are juft the fame, True to the flock from which they came. The vulgar, timid, felfifli mind, Forms the great herd of human, kind ; The reft are only beafts of prey, More favage and more vile than they. And thus, my unfufpe&ing friend, You fee where common friendfhips end; Caprice and accident coflfpire To light up an eternal fire ; The farthing-candle burns, no doubt, Till pride or intVeft puffs it out ; And then each friend begins to wonder How he committed fuch a blunder ; Perceives how little love he had, And fees his neighbour juft as bad. 'Twould take a Lapland fummer's day,. To fum up all that each can fay ; Such unions nothing will produce, But envy, malice, and abufe. The novice, eager to impart His wifhes to fome focial heart, An hundred chances runs to one Of having all his fecrets blown. Cant then of Friendship as they will-, Mortals are only mortals ftill ; A motley mafs of contradi&ions, Their friendships merely traps andfidtions- ; 94 VERSES ON FRIENDSHIF. For, in a thoufand, feldom one Is built on love and truth alone. This, Solomon himfelf hath faid, Who, no doubt, very dearly paid For all the flerling force of thought That fparkles through each line he wrote. Oh 1 Friendship thy unfading charms. Awake my foul to fweet alarms ; The loudeft racket Folly raifes, Is all too frigid for thy praifes. At four-and-twenty, I believe What leffer fools- at ten perceive ; That every wife man thinks and cares For nothing but his own afiairs, And fancies it moft foolifh labour To fave from want a finking neighbour ; Unlefs he can, without delay, With twice its worth his aid repay. This rule, admitting no exceptions, Includes all ranks and alldefcriptions;, Though, once in ninety thoufand years, AG****ora Qiiin appears. Did my experience but attefl That all thefe murmurs were a jeft ; . That every heart was fond and true, That every friend refembled'you ; Then mould I, in the Laureate's phrafe, Fill every line with fulfome praife, And fmg up fcribblers to the fkies, For all thofe virtues they defpife. May heav'n forbid, you e'er depend Upon the promife of a friend; For if you do not need his aid, Or, if he's certain he'll be paid, At half a nod, behold him fly, For you he lives, for you he'll die ! But fhould you drop the word Subjtftence A fur ly, cold, forbidding difbnce VERSES ON FRIENDSHIP. Announces you muft lick his fpittle ; That he is great, and you are little : And then you fee, too late, indeed, His Friendfhip juft a broken reed ! A thoufand times you muft have known A cafe like this, though not your own : Then how can one forbear to lam "Thefe mean, detefted fordid trafh, I am not talking of the mob Whom want impells to (teal and rob ; Xo ! I am fpeaking of their betters, Of men of tafte, and men ofletters; Of men who honour their high ftations, "Whofe works extend the fame of nations, Who Virgil's verfes would admire, And let him in a jail expire; (As fifty Bards have done before), And then his woeful end deplore. And if, perhaps, my credit fail, Turn over the laborious Bayte.; Remark" what monfters croud his pages, All daffies of enlightened ages ! The beft of us have many a fault, And ad but feldom as we ought : Yet, if our planet be poflefs'd Of one fublimely generous bread, A friend who really feels your grief, Who, when he can, will lend relief; A friend, who, like immortal Quin, Will free you from the turnkey's gin, And ftriclly charge you not to tell That he (good CouP.) has aded well-; In ranging forty fyftems round, If fuch a wonder fhall be found, The confcious Mufe could guefs his name, ; But modeft worth defpifes fame. Becaufe he wanted food and fame ; But then he wrote whate'er he thought, Nor courted praife, nor feared blame : And fince we know he roafls below For what he faid upon the Bible, It would be wrong to make our fong, Like Beattie's bitter bookf, a Libel. ON THE VANITY OF AMBITION. THE horfe, when well fupply'd with corn and hay, With patience bears the labours of the day; At his hard lot he never once repines, Nor pants to know what Providence defigns ; * His character of this Poet is invidious and abfurd, and ought, for the honour of Literature, to be expunged from every future editon of his hiftory. f In attempting to perufe this work, we find the author unin- telligible, unlefs in a few paflages where he ts remarkably fcur- rilous. We have all heard of the Eflay as an admirable defence of Chriftianity, which ought not, one fhould think, at this time of day, to ftand in need of a defence. After wading through one hundredand feventy pages of the firft part of his performance, the Reader will be furprifed to find nothing at all about Religion. ON THE VANITY OF AMBITION. 97 And, after all the wife pretend to fee, Perhaps our nags know jufl as well as we,. The dog is happy when his paunch is full, No phantoms of ambition plague his ikull; To ferve his owner, modeftly content, He reaps the raptures of a life well fpent. Pufs, killing mice, exults through every vein, Nor lets the longitude derange her brain. The moufe entrenching in a rotten cheefe, No higher happinefs or feeks or fees. In fhort, all animals but reftlefs man, Are pretty well content with Nature's plan ; And though with ills they (land inceflant ilrifs, Yet never in contempt relinquish life. And we, inheriting a foul divine! ' Above blind Inftinft furely ought to fhinc; But Reafon only maks us greater fools, We're conflantly at war with Reafon's rules ^ Ten thoufand idle wants we madly make, And for each phantom cafl our all to ftakc. This frantic wifh, for inftance, fires the breaft; Each mortal would rejoice to rule the reft. Had haughty Gzfar been content to keep In Alpine folitudes, a herd of fheep, More happy had he liv'd a humble fwain, Than when at Munda he reconquer'd Spain; Where Courage to Defpair began to yield, And Chance beftow'd the honours of the field. Or, was he bleft when fenates round him bow'd, And foes to his contempt their fafety ow'd; When Tully's tongue was panting to obey, And Egypt's Syren mark'd him for her prey ? Let all fuch heirs of Glory, if they will, . Determine either to be kill'd or kill. That mode of madnefs mall not crack my head. My grand ambition is to die a-bed. I care not what the Ruffians are about, Nor whether France and Germany fall out, 2 I f)8 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE IV. What tawny tyrant keeps the Moors in awe, What Tartar chief fucceeds to Nadir Shaw; By Japan when the Pope fhall be obey'd, Or all Amboyna on the Dutch repaid. England, for me, fhall never rule the main, I would not break one limb ten cat-fkin marts to gain ; Nor quit the comforts of my kitchen fire, That gaping mobs my courage may admire; That fome vile Statefman, of his blood-hounds vain, May fpread deflruction through a frefh campaign, And bankrupt nations add an endlefs fcore, To what both Indies could not pay before. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE. IV. THE furly winter now has fled, And ftniling fpring fupplies his ftead; The iky diffolves in gentle mowers, And April paints the mead with flowers; No hoar-froft in the dawn is feen, But lambs are leaping o'er the green. The farmer feels the cold retire, And quits, in hafte, his kitchen fire; 'Turns out his oxen from the flails, And to the plow his fervants calls ; .How beautiful the budding grove, All nature melting into love. The linnet lines her little neft, With feathers from her tender breaft, The wealthy bee is on the wing, To rifle all the rofy fpring ; While vegetation burfls around, And daifes deck the teeming ground. At this fweet feafon, when I fee M friend beneath fome fhady tree, HORACE, LIB. i. ODE v. 9$ Perufing Dryden's claffic page, Or tracing man through Shakefpeare's flage ; When gen'rous Brutus a&s his part, Or fond Ophelia pours her heart; While mufic fwells along the iky, And rapture trembles in his eye, 'Tis then I blefs ray humble fate, And pity all the pompous great ; When can they eatch an hour fcrcnc, To tafte the joy of fuch a fcene. But ah ! his virtues will not fave My Lucius from the filent grave ; Impartial Death one meflage brings, To rich, and poor, to flaves and kings. Life lends but very narrow fcope, To the fond reveries of Hope : And when committed to the fhroud, No modern mortal is allow'd, Though weeping worlds his abfence mourn, Like Hamlet's father to return. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE V. IMITATED. An ! tell me, dear Pyrrha, what beautiful boy, This evening ihall rifle thefe charms; Some jefTamine arbour the fcene of your joy, And Paradife all in your arms ! For whom are you combing your long jetty hair, So gracefully artlefs you drefs; So tender a look ! fo bewitching an air! Admiration fwells into diftrefs. Ycur fimple young favVite, will fondly fuppofe, That he is the lord of your heart; lij. 100 ON READING THE BEAt'X STRATAGEM. But, when the feas frown, and the hurricane blows ? With how much amaze mall he flart ! Mow happy the lovers who calmly de,fy The fair one they cannot efteem ; But yet in the midft of your fcorn let me die, Ere I live to be frigid like them. ON READING THE BEAUX STRATAGEM. R'S loofe fcenes let every good man mun, Where all our morals to perdition run. A crew like thefe the world ne'er knew before; A rake each hufband, and each wife a whore ; How vile a pimp to every human vice ! What wretched fools who read his pages twice ! When mall a Britifh flage be fwept quite clean, UNor aftors need to blufh for what they mean. Lay Shakefpeare, and a feleft few afide, And that fweet paftoral Edina's pride, Where honeft nature foars above ftage art, And each pure thought fiov, ^ warmly from the heart And then remark what hateful tram remains; Trafti, tafle abhors, and common fenfe difdains. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE VI. IMITATED. DEAR Harry you affec~l to wonder I never echo Rodney's name, And fwell my fong with blood and thunder, Since Horace would have done the fame* HORACE, LIB. I. ODE VI. The fweet immortal Bard of Rome To fing his heroes had a right } But never fhall a wren prefume To emulate an eagle's flight. What mufe could elevate a verfe, To tell how Keppel chac'd our foes ? Homer had trembled to rehearfe The rival valour of the Howes ! And never, fince the world began, Did fo much wifdom rule a ftate ; How deep and fteady in each plan, How calm and decent in 'debate ? What generous pity we.difplay'd When Rumbold was to be defended ! When North and Fox the fceptre fway'd, How wide our glory was extended! 'Tis true, their reign was very fhort, For which pofterity will mourn ; Bqt 'tis a fafhion at the Court That every party rife in turn ! And every patriot of them all Hath fuch a furvd of public fpirit j Bards to eternity might bawl, And fcarcc do juftice to their merit. Then how can you fuppofe that I Should venture on fo vaft a theme ; For fome young doxy let me figh, And pen a ballad to her fame. IK) C to* 1 ON THE POWER OF WEALTH. FIRE and the Sun the Perflans once ador'd, And pious Egypt her dead bull deplor'd ; The fons of Brama venerate a Cow, And Rome to relicks condefcends to bow ; The Moon when full, the Hottentots admire. And China's idols fervent faith rnfptre; The Turk to Mahomet for pardon prays, The Jew from Mofes, hopes for better days ; And each of thefe in turn contemns the reft, While Englifh wifdom fees them all a jefl ; Admires what nonfenfe mankind fwallow down, And finds no creed confident but her own. Yet though no fec~l admits a rival right, All parties in one point of faith unite ; From Japan to Peru, from Pole to Pole, The lufl of gold enflaves the human foul. Beggars themfelves fincerely fcorn the poor, And rum enraptur'd to the rich man's door ; The blaze of grandeur fills your houfe with friends, To ferve his own, each ferves your meanefl ends. See them! like moths around the candle dance, Even pride herfelf, will pay the firfl advance. For you the lawyer's tongue perverts the laws, The Judge, we daily mark it, nods applaufe. Your heir himfelf is anxious for your health, And rates your virtues far above your wealth ; Itfay Sunday's Orator mufl now be fee'd, And fcorns, like honefl Paul, to work for bread; Though befl or worfl have nothing new to fay, But trudge the fame trite circle every day. One mufl be nimble, mould he chance to meet, Our Vicar's carriage rufhing down the flreet ; The wildefl fanaticks will ne'er neglect, To treat a monied man with due refpecl; HORACE, LIB. I. ODE Vir. But by their filent reverence feem to fay, He's as much wifer as more rich than they. And mould fome portly Dean their price allow Quakers themfelvcs alas! begin to bow. Thus every fedl purfues one common end, And riches are the Baal to whom they bend HORACE, LIB. I. ODE VII. HORACE, in his enchanting lays, Old Tiber's praife proclaims ; And Denham happily difplays The grandeur of his Thames. A thoufand ancient Bards have fung The lovely Banks of Tweed ; And winding Leven lately rung With Random's tuneful reed. And yet, methinks, my native ftream Is far above the reft ; Its diftant beauties, like a dream, Are rufhing on my breafl. But why fweet * * * f o fondly praife, Or why it's abfence mourn ? Alas I our childhood's happy days Are never to return. When Camoens, who, for hunger died, From India took his way ; Thus, while their veflel cut the tide, The Poet pour'd his lay. " Though Fate allow me once again, " To fee my native more ; " 'Tis like the long-lamented fcenc " Shall know my name no more. 44 The rich will very wifely fhun " A man fo very poor ; 4 Nor will the croud with raptures run 4 ' His friendfhip to fecure. 41 In fullen filence all agree, 44 Or coldly condefcend, 44 To hint they once admitted me 44 Their equal and their frk-nd. 44 Then muft I feel this humbling truth " Strike heavy on my breaft ; 11 The fond attachments of our yovith u Are nothing but a jeft. M Nor would old Homer, if alive, " A kinder welcome meet ; *" But all his funfhine friends furvive 4t To perifh in the flreet. 44 And yet, perhaps, a future age u My miferies may hear ; *' And drop, while they perufe my page, u A fond though fmitlefs tear." ON FRUGALITY. FEW ills occur more frequently in life, Than ruin from the folly of a wife ; The wifefl of the fex are rather vain, Andfolitude, and filence, give them pain ; They cannot read, nor think, nor flay at home r In fearch of fcandal, filks, and tea, they roam. Their friends to vifit them in courfe return, And then the candle at both ends muft burn-; ON FRUGALITT* To plcafc the company what hafle is made, What noife, expence, and flutter, and parade. The vifitors are always very free, In finding faults with every thing they fee ; They mew their envy, though they call it tafte, And teach your fpoufe new lefTons how to wafte. 'Tis flrange, that any man of common fenfe, Permits his wife to drown him with expence ; And when, like njofl of us, he fcarce can live, More than his own for idle toys to give ; Why truft his helm to fuch a feeble hand? Why not enjoy the pleafures of command ? Why thus refign his native right to rule? Or, who mould fympathize with fuch a fool. The coward who can bear this mameful plan, Deferves to lofe the title of a man ; The worfl effed\ mufl very feldom fail, Debt, and difgrace, and hunger, and a jail j Nay, oft the victim hath refolv'd to die, And cut the knot, he never could untie. Without frugality, we try in vain The dignity of riches to attain ; It is not what we win, but what we fave, That fits us future accidents to brave ; And happy, fo far, mufl that mortal be, Who feels himfelf from duns and debtors free ; Who every bill can at an inflant pay ; Nor needs indulgence for a fingle day. If 'tis the gentle reader's glorious fate, To find himfelf fo fmgularly great ; His friends will flock around him in the flreet ? Nay fawn upon his children when they meet : His faithful kin though forty times remov'd, Will let him hear how tenderly he'slov'd ; Silence when he harangues will ne'er be broke But every tongue repeat his poorefl joke. Treat none, let prodigals and bankrupts treat, makefeq/is tbat wifer men may eat*. Io6 HORACE, LIB, I. ODE VIII. And when you feem fo frugal and fo wife, Your credit with the world will daily rife ; And though you fliould not wear fo fine a coat As fome vain coxcomb, hardly worth a groat, The public will have fenfe enough to know, From what fage thrift thefe marks of meannefs flow. For wealth in tatters forces full refpeft, When gaudy Indigence excites negledl. My lord may live on a more fplendid plan, But you who lend him cafli, are much the greater man, To you the petulant will fmooth their ftyle, Pedants be frank, and pride fubmit to fmile ; The prieft to pleafe you will relax his creed, The fanguine furgeon own he mould not bleed. And though your fon your health at bottom curfe r And feel a juft impatience for your purfe, As each young fquire turns Cck by twenty -five If the old dog, his father, lags alive ; Unlefs you fairly ftrip yourfelf like Lear, One ferious frown ihall freeze his foul with fear ; The want of money keep his temper mild, And kings, with envy view the fire of fuch a child. Good fenfe muft make him think what he's about, Nor fpurn your orders till your breath is out. ' HORACE, LIB. I. ODE VIII. IMITATED. DEAR Madam, you ruin your fon By loving the youth to excefs, For Billy of late hath begun To think upon nothing but drefs. Laft year he was learning at fchool To gallop, to fence, and to fwim ; But a fword, and a horfe, and a pool. Have loft their attractions for him- ON POPERT. IC7 Laft year he was hardy and bold, Now alter'd fo far and fb foon ; In-December he fhivers with cold, And droops in the funfhine of June. .No longer to rein the rafli fteed, To plunge in the bofom of Thames, With Rodney to conquer and bleed, The pupil of Luxury claims. The Ladies are all his delight, The fcquel you certainly know ; -His courage will foon take its flight, And the loldier be funk in the beau. Like you, tender Thetis of old Debas'd her invincible boy ; And petticoats, long, as we're told, Retarded the ruin of Troy. ON POPERY. How can a Catholic of common fenfe Believe falvation mall be bought with pence? As if the Lord of Nature, like himfelf, Could feel a pleafure in collecting pelf. The blindell eye may fee the whole a jeft, Contriv'd to glut the rapine of the priefl ; And the vaft code, invented in their fchools, A vulgar trap to catch the cafh of fools. 'Tis not, my Friend, by burning bulls and By fhaving heads, and cutting human throats, By kneeling at an altar, thrice a-day, Collecting ancient maids to hear him pray, By flaying of his back, rehearflng creeds, Refufing roaftedbeef, or counting beads; 'Tis not by fwearing that he'll want a wife, Clean beds and decent linen all his life-; I C.8 'Tis not by building dungeons to immure Young girls, and make them twenty deaths endure; Nor yet by kiffing an old wooden poft, The Pope's indulgence, or the wafer-hoft ; That he who wrongs the poor fhall purchafe reft, "When confcious guilt is throbbing in his breaft. Let Tillotfon eke folios, fince he will, To prove that wafers are but wafers ftill ; Preachers on fuch a point who rack their brain, Are fcarce above the bigots they difdain ; How vile the Sophifts then who condefcend, Such rank and fatal folly to defend. "We hope the rifing age may live to fee That glorious day when Parfons fhall agree; When Truth fhall force one facrifice from Pride, By burning all the trafli on either fide ; When every Nun fhall burft her prifon door, And Popery's laft relick be no more.* But though the Conclave may have led us wrong, And kept the world in ignorance fo long, Let us purfue the only path that's given, By which poor mortals may pretend to Heaven. That man who will not tread his neighbours down, Becaufe their faith is diff'rent from his own ; Who facred kaeps his promife to a maid, And inly blufhes till his debts are paid; Who, though a lawyer, fcruples at a lie, And, though a furgeon, feels the patient's flgh ; Who, ifafoldien, fcorns to draw his blade When fmugglers quarrel, for fome lawlefs trade; But, fhould Oppreffion trample on the laws, Is proud to perifh in a Hampden's caufe; Suppofe there be fome blunders in his creed, "J His fate, nor here, nor elfewhere, fhall he dread, ? Though Hecla's bafis burft upon his head. j * This article was written about eight years ago ; fince that time it is pleafing to obferve how far the French nation, and the Emperor Jofeph, dijcordia fernina rerum, have agreed in advan- cing this event. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE. XI. IMITATED. IT is not fit that you or I Should know the period when we'll die ; But then your Ladymip, it feems, Expects to learn it by your dreams. All men of common fenfe difdain Thefe idle vifions of the brain; Much better the complaint endure Than crack your head with fuch a cure. 'Tis little odds to me or you, (As all our found Divines allow) How many winters intervene, Or if this prefent clofe the fcene ; Since He whofe goodnefs guides the whole Will find new quarters for the foul, And who would wim to linger here, Where every day demands a tear? Pretend no longer, if you're wife, To pierce the fecrets of the ikies; At fleeting years no more repine, But fill your Bard a bowl of wine: For while we talk, invidious Age, Advances o'er Life's little ftage: Come, let us catch the current hour, To-morrow is not in our power. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XVI. IMITATED. I BEG you, dear Fanny, to do what you pleafe, With that rafti unlucky lampoon ; Let it rife in the chimney or fink in the feas, Your implacable vengeance to crown. K !! HOKACE, LIB. 1. ODE XVI. Some others, I feel it, are handfome and fai r, But your charms even the coldeft avow ; And, Oh ! let me fay, that in fpite of defpair, My wimes muft center in you. Forbid the effects of implacable rage From rending that delicate breaft ; You have feen ram Othello expire on the ftage, And vvifdora will tell you the reft. When David, the Jew, rifled Kabbah of old, What feats did his fury perform ! To the chofen thenifelves the fame mcafure was told-, When Zion'was enter'd by florin. From all thefe examples, too fenfible maid, The danger of paflion you fee, Then be not alas ! by jufl anger betray'd, To rejoice in the ruin of me. When Adam was moulded, the devil they fay, Infertcd a fpice in the plan ; And we, his defcendants, proceed to this day, As that ferry being began. Then why, my dear Fanny, continue to charge The tricks of the devil on me ? Or is there one lover, take mankind at large. From fits of impertinence free ? By thofe foolifh verfes I try'd to conceal, An ambition I bluftYd to avow, Nor did I, at that time, fo terribly feel My exiitence depended on you. But fince every quarrel is ended at laft, Your heart let humanity move ; Let us both, like fond Jofeph, forget what is pafi, Ajid plunge in the torrent of love. ( 111 ) HORACE, LIB. I. EPIST. IV. IMITATED. , the kind corrector of my lay?, Remote from London pafs the fummer days, How hall I tell the world you fpend your time Still quite enamour' d with the fweets of rhyme ? What ! can a youth, fo modeft, really hope With Dryden's rapid eloquence to cope ! Harmonious profe demands no matter art, But who like Dryden, overwhelms the heart ? So fweetly voluble his verfes run, The line Teems ended ere 'tis well begun. Perhaps you faunter through fome fhady grove, While your chafte bofom glows with rural love ; Her charms the parfon's daughter has impreft, Or fome kind milk-maid captivates your breaft, Sacred from pafte, and painting, and perfume, And all her features frefh with Nature's bloom ; No barber's Babel nodding on her head, Nor with town-fcandal fit to talk ycu dead : Or, fhall I fay, that, with the truly wife, Your contemplations foar above the fkies ; That 'tis eternity commands your care, And all your fage ambition centers there ? For, though a man of famion and eflate, With you religion is not out of date: And let a friend applaud, without offence, [Mankind acknowledge your fuperior fenfe. Your handfome perfon cannot fail to pleafe, And cam, in plenty, fets your foul at eafe, And you what Fortune proffers can enjoy, Yet neither dignity nor health deftroy : You ne'er at midnight in a tavern roar, Nor pledge your honour for a bagnio fcore ; Kij ON JULIUS CAESAR. Nor at Newmarket bet with dirty rogues, Nor fhrve a parifh to fupport your dogs ; Nor with backgammon embarrafs your brain, But cards and cockpits equally difdain. What farther could his doating nurfe requed, For the young bantling fmiling at her bread, Than a clear, lively, comprehenfive mind, A feeling heart, an eloquence refin'd, A graceful form, an ample flock of health, An happy temper, and fome fhare of wealth. Since Nature then has every gift fupply'd, And Fate propitious rolls her riched tide ; Embrace the pleafures of the prefent day, But blend betimes the ferious with the gay ; No tempefl overclouds your morning fkies, But who can tell how foon the dorm may rife ? Pardon, dear Sir, the prefent fit of rhyme, To fcribble nonfenfe is no deadly crime ; And did not confcience whifper what they cod, I'd fend you fuch epiflles every poll. ON JULIUS CAESAR. * THE fird of the Caefars to finifli his praife, Deferv'd and demanded a fprig of the bays; And though as alert in profcribing the rich, As fchool boys at pelting the frogs in a ditch, As cool as a Taylor extirpating fleas, While the blood of his countrymen iffued in feas, As anxious his foes on the head piece to knock, As a Parfon with tithe-fuits to torture his flock, As unprincipled, blood thrifty, favage, impetuous, As JefFeries, or Laud, or the judge of Servetus, * Or the very word king, or the very word pried, That ever made all human feelings a jed, " The barbarous manners of his age muft be admitted as a very confiderable apology for the blemifhes of this eminent cha- rafter. THE PROGRESS OF LIBERTY. I He forgave, nay, he courted Catullus forfooth ! Who painted his crimes in the language of truth. Yet no Laureate now a-days ventures to fmile, Left his Lilliput patron mould quarrel his ftyle; And diminifh his Judas Ifcariot's bow, To glance of diflruft and a cold " how d'ye do." How manly the old Roman manner of thinking; From what have we funk, or to what are we linking? THE PROGRESS OF LIBERTY. IN times of old when Julius Czfar, Britannic laurels gain'd at leifure ; Our cuckold anceflors* were fkilTdin No art, and leaft of all, in building. Yet when they built a man was free, To bore his roof to let him fee, JSTor trembled for a Gauger's frown Though fmoke went up and light came down. His cote when funflaine had forfook, A bonfire mew'd him every nook ; He thought himfelf no more benighted, Than if ten tapers had been lighted ; When like ourfelves of water tir'd, His palate barley-corn requir'd, No fupervifor watch'd his ale, Or thruft an ell-wand in the pail. But now, behold how Fate diftra&s us, With window, barley, tallow taxes 1 A draught of ale, a draught of air, f A pinch of fnuff will foon be rare. * Caefar tells us, that among the ancient Britons, ten or twelve hufbands enjoyed as many wives in common. f In confequence of the ruinous duty on window lights, a. great number of windows were built up in the city of Carlifle, as well as in the reft of the kingdom, in the year 1781. the Kiij *14 THE FfiOGEESS OF L1BEBTT. A fine, liis Majefty muft handle, Ere you dare dip a farthing candle ; In dull no fcavenger is laid, Till three-pence to your prince be paid; Another three-pence rnufl be given, A fort of entry-fee for heaven,. Before your pious heir begins To warn away that world of fins Contracted, if the church be right, Long ages ere he faw the light. No barber can retail pomatum, But lo ! the Chancellor is at hint. 'Tis not enough to tax your crown r His inquiries go farther down ; The Doftor when he vends a purge, Mufl have a licence fir ft from ******. And fince we buy the back-door fcouring, Why not excife all Britifti urine ; 'Twould have a twofold operation, In working cut this realm's falvation ; By forcing prodigal's to think r Better ere they begin to drink. want of free air produced a putrid fever, which, before the Be- ginning of February 1782, had attacked fix hundred of the inhabi tants; of thefe fifty-five died. See a pamphlet printed by Mr. Ca- dell in February 1782. The heavy tax on Peruvian bark, and upon other neceflary drugs, is a tax on the health of the Britifh. nation; yet, as if the reft, of Europe were inhabited only by {laves and poltroons, our political writers are inceflantly chattering a- bout the fupreme excellence of the Britifh conftitution; and the Minifter of the day, at the head of his difciplined phalanx, has- the modefty to aflure us that we are a free people. Britain has been juftjy compared to an apple in a cyder prefs, and the Premier to the man at the fcrew. No peculiar cenfure is here intended on Mr. Pitt. We can hardly fuppofe that his antago* aifts would, in his fixation, have afted better. ON DRYDEN. HERE DRYDEN lies, and all his cries Of want and hunger are forgot ; And the whole croud, to whom he bow'J Are like himfelf, condemned to rot.. Had fuch a man purfu'd a plan For gaining fair immortal fame, No claffic piece of Rome, or Greece, Had foar'd above his deathlefs name : But when a Bard has no regard To Virtue, Decency, or Senfe, We may admire his glorious fire, But fliall we fpeak in his defence ? Had Dryden feorn'd to be fuborn'd To rublifh vile religious rhymes, And had his Mufe darM to refufe To vindicate a tyrant's crimes* Each future age had read his page With endlefs wonder and delight ; The Poet's fong can fcarce be wrong Providing Truth diredl his flight. THE WISE MAN. JESSE'S fam'd grandfon ap'd his fire, Whofe cut-throat reign \ve all admire \ He plundered every kingdom round, \Vhere handfome wenches tould be found, Like geldings from a fair he led, Each wanton b_auty to his bed; II 6 TRE WISE MAN. But could not anfwer every call, And act his duty to them all. Great Caefar's felf had ne'er fupply'd, The warm demands of every bride; And then his royal wifdom raged, To catch them at the game engaged. He plainly felt the fprouting horn, He felt it was not to be borne; And in a fit of paflion faid, That every girl her faith betray'd. His capons to be fure would crack Their whips on many a charming back; And {Ince they could not pleai'e, invent Ten thoufand methods to torment. But had the wileft of all kings Confider'd well the ftate of things, He might with half an eye have feen y That the bare title of a Queen Would ne'er filence the fimplelt maid, They know what tribute ihould be paid j And rogues, who rob them of their due, Shall foon or late find time to rue. Had he then manag'd as he ought, And truth in one fond bofom fought, 'Tis certain the fagacious rake, Had feen that moment his miflake ; At the whole fex he had not rail'd, Nor had for once his wifdom fail'd.* * What would be the fituation of feven hundred, or a thonfand; hufbands, reftrifted to a fingle wife ? REMARKS ON ENGLISH P LA T S. THE HYPOCRITE: A Comedy. THIS plagiary mode of forming plays, has, in our fervile age, become neceffary from the want of original genius. The fcenes borrowed from Gibber, are generally good. The tranflations, from Moliere, fall materially fhort of the fenfe, humour, and propriety of the original. The compiler's additions are very diftinguimable from the reft. There is certainly an impropriety and ill judgment in transferring the characters of TartufF&and Wolf, the opu- lent pricfts of eftablifhed fuperftition, to the perfon of a poor enthufiaftic fanatic preacher. The fame author has exhaufted the original fpirit of the Plain Dealer, and- metamorphofed it into a very inlipid comedy, in the true tafte of modern alteration. A TRUE WIDOW : A Comedy, Jy Sbadwell. THE fcenes in this play are loofe and unconnected. Some of the characters are outre, and there is hardly any plot, yet the language is eafy and natural. We find in it true unaffected wit, and materials which would make a great figure in modern comedy. THE SQUIRE OF ALSATIA: A Ccmedy, by Sbadwell. THERE is a great variety of amuling adventure in this play, with foma good fcenes and natural characters; yet it falls off remarkably, after the firft act, which is a piece of true comedy. Sir Edward is as pleafant and juft a. cha- n REMARKS ON ENGLISH FLAfS. rafter of a fcn/lble worthy gentleman, as can be found in the drama, or in real life ; and the moral of this play is liberal and good, in various views. I value this play the more, as I was much prepoflefTed againft the author, by Dryden's admirable fatirein the Mackfleckno; but great wits have commonly great pride and malice. Pope, with genius much inferior to Dryden, difcovers a fimilar pride and malevolence, by his illiberal abufe of CoJley Gibber, in his Dunciad, a fatire, in which the malice is very na- tural, and the wit very artificial. On the whole, the play, though not altogether of a piece with the firfl aft, merits the charafter as exprefled in the dedication by its patron of " a true and diverting comedy." THE BEAUX STRATAGEM : A Comedy, by Farqnbar. THIS is a pleafant comedy, has great variety of charac- ter and humour and is very entertaining, when well per- formed on the flage. There is lefs of the affefted fludied wit r and more of natural converfation and humour, than is to be found in moft of our later comedies. In this age, dramatic genius exifls not ; and " Nature flies us like enchanted ground."* Farquhar, however, neither in this, nor any of his plays, is able altogether to avoid fome touches of low and inde- licate humour. POLLY: An Opera, by Gay. THE introduction, by way of prologue, is perfeftly in the happy flyle and tafte of the prologue to the Beggar's Opera. Every fentence conveys, in eafy, proper, and fignificant language, flrokes of fatire on the vices of. the times, with peculiar force and pleafantry. There is here no fludied affeftation, and quaintnefs, which generally infeft our modern wit, and gratify a prevailing ill taftc. * Dryden. fcEMARKS OX ENGLISH PLATS. 11$ A laboured fingularity of expreflion, and pompous lan- guage, difguife the defects offenfe and true genius, from the days of ancient Seneca, down to a very modern and popular hiflorian of the Roman empire.* Gay and Swift are, I think, the only unaffected Englifh wits. I except the old poets, Shakefpeare, Johnfon and Fletcher, and the ilngular wit and fatire of the Rehearfal. RULE A WIFE AND HAVE A WIFE : A Comedy. THIS is an admirable comedy. The characters are na- tural, and the converfation eafy. The adventures arc wrought up in an agreeable entertaining manner. The humour is unaffected, highly entertaining, and perfectly in character. All is in the old, plain, and happy ftyle of poetry, which enlivens without conflraining the author's compofition. The BANEFUL RESTORATION intro- duced many and lafling evils to Britain ; and, among the reft, a falfe corrupted tafte in dramatic entertainments. From that period, our comedy has been infefled with plots immoral and improbable, with affected fimilies and flu- died wit, which, like the prologue of Bayes, may fervc equally for any character or any play. Garrick has alter- ed this comedy, and, as ufual, for the worfe. EPICCENEj OR, THE SILENT WOMAN: A Comedy, by Ben Jobnfo n. ALL the characters of excellent comedy are .to be found In this-play. It is equally admirable in language, compo- * Lord Mansfield being a(ked his opinion of the ftyle of this cele- brated writer, replied, " It is abominable." Perhaps the reader may not be difpleafed with a fhort anecdote of Mr. G. A friend having afked him how, in cafe one fhould happen to be d d, it would be pofHble to fupport the eternity of hell torments ; " I do " not know," replied the hiftorian, " but of this I am certain tha t " none of our divines has yet been able to contrive a TOLERABLE . Paradife." The converfation was in French, but the translation is literal. I2O REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. tion, wit, and judgment. Dryden beftows high enco- miums upon it, and prefers it to all theEngliih comedies in his time ; and I believe it is flill entitled to the fame pre- eminence. THE MOCK DOCTOR ; OR, THE DUMB LADY CURED; A Comedy. THIS is a tolerable translation from Moliere. The plea- fant naviete of the original is not fully preferved, and in fome paffages a low indecent humour is introduced, to fuit the taftc of a London audience. The fongs are wretchedly in the modern London tafte; and not a tranflation. THE MISER : A Comedy, by Fielding. THIS is alfo a tranflation from Moliere, and executed in a better tafte, and in more conformity to the original than the former. But the affedled Coquette, the pert Chambermaid, and the Footman, are partly moulded into characters of modern Englifh comedy, and fuit ill with the mafterly Simplicity of the reft, though they ferve to make the play more current and entertaining on a Lon- don theatre. THE TWIN RIVALS : A Comedy, by Farqubar. POPE fays juftly, " What pert low dialogue has Farquhar writ." Though his humour is often low, and what is much worie, often indecent, yet he had talents for writing comedy. He copies well from low life. His characters are natu- ral, maintained with uniformity, and well diftinguifhed. But his higher characters are affected. His plots are a- mufing, but commonly deficient in judgment and regu- larity ; and upon the whole, his plays will always be en- tertaining on the ftage, though they will not ftand with- out cenfure, a trial of tafte and juft criticifm in the clofet. REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. I 21 THE PROVOKED HUSBAND : A Comedy, by Vanburgb, and Cibber. I THINK this is the very beft of our modern comedies. * The characters, both high and low, are formed from real life, finely diftinguiihed, and exactly maintained. The ferious converfations are elegant, yet natural. The co- mical part is, in a high degree, entertaining, without in- decency. The plot is interefting, and the cataftrophe is jufl, for merit and virtue are encouraged and rewarded; vice and folly are chaftifed, and expofed to contempt. THE RECRUITING OFFICER: A Comedy, by Farqubar. [Vide Remark on The Twin Rivals.] THE WAY OF THE WORLD : A Comedy. CONGREVE writes with the greateft purity of language, and all the charms of wit. But we muft be told, in the courfe of the dialogue, who are intended for wits, and who for fools, otherwife we could hardly diiliuguifh them, they all fpeak fo wittily. Indeed, the author utters his own wit and language in every character, with little di- flinclion. His plots and cataflrophies are generally per- plexed and improbable. Though the language is pure and proper, yet I cannot help thinking, that it is often too fludied, and even affected, either for natural conver- fation, " Such as men do ufe," f or for the true dramatic dialogue. The characters are, however, well diflinguim- ed, for the mofl part properly maintained, and the true fpirit of comedy prevails in many of his fcenes. * The word MODERN is here applied to comedies written fine* the Reftoration. This explanation appears neceflary to make the prefent article confiftent with the encomium beftowed on .' The Silent Woman." f BEN JOHNSON. i L 122 HEM ARKS OK ENGLISH PLAYS. THE GENTLE SHEPHERD: A Scots Paftoral Comedy, by Allan Ramfay. THIS excellent piece does honour to North Britain. There is no paftoral, in the Englifh language, comparable to it, and I believe there is none in any language fuperior to it. THE FAIR PENITENT: A Tragedy by Roive. THIS author has the merit of fentiment, delicacy, and powers, to touch the unthinking tender paffions ; but Shakefpeare is my model of dramatic excellence, and the companion diminifhes Rowe. He is tod romantic in his plots. There is a flowing famenefs of language in all his characters, and he pours out a profufion of poetical words, without any meafure of Shakefpeare's nervous ftrength, and fententious meaning. I do not think this play, either bad, or good enough, for particular criticifm. THE PLAIN DEALER: A Comedy by Wycherly. THIS play, has a good deal of pleafant wit, and fevers fatire. The characters are well diftinguifhed and preferv- cd, and the plot is lefs perplexed than in the bulk of mo- dern comedies. A wretched attempt was lately made to alter this play, that is to mar it in the faftiionable way, to adapt it to the prefent tafle. Perhaps it fucceded, and had a run at London ; I am not informed, but I think it probable, as it vulgarized a play of uncommon fpirit fo very remarkably. ROMEO AND JULIET : A Tragedy. THE fancy, delicacy, and love, in this play, the inimit- able production of Shakefpeare's genius, are, in my opi- nion, bloted by the alterations and additions. I can al- REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS low the propriety of retrenching fome of his fccnes, but I do not think it poflible to add, or alter, in the produc- tions of fo fingular and fuperior a genius, without appa- rent incongruity, and abfurdity, though a London audi- ence cannot perceive it. The very attitude of the prints fhews a prevailing ill tafle ; they are theatrical and affect- ed, unlike Shakefpeare and Nature. The original con- clufion of this play might be retrenched; but as it ftands, will be efteemed by true judges, as infinitely fuperior in poetry, judgment, and force, to the modern alteration. It ends with a melancholy, yetpleafmg reconcilement of the two familes: and with thefe two fimple, natural, and tender lines, " For never was a ftory of more woe, " Than this of Juliet and her Romeo." which the reader of tafte may compare to the ftiff unmean- ing modern ones. " Well may you mourn, my Lords, now wife too late; " Thefe tragic iffues of your mutual hate . " From private feuds, what dire misfortunes flow; " Whate'er the caufe, the fure efieft is Wooe. CORIQLANUS: A Tragedy, by Sbakefpeare. JUDICIOUS readers will find much more of Shakefpeare's merit, and peculiar genius in this piece, than our critics allow. On the whole, I think the managers and critics difcover a remarkable defecl of true tafle and judgment in the modelling of this play; which, from Shakelpeare's precious materials, might eafify be formed into one of the moft pleafing and perfect entertainments on the Bri- tifh flage. I rnufl often repeat, that in modelling Shake- fpeare's plays for acting^ judicious retrenchment, and Sometimes an alteration in the arrangement of fcenes, may be allowed, but not a word to be altered or added. I have an opinion, almoft to devotion, of his peculiar and extraordinary genius, and can hardly forbear application Lij 124 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. of a fcriptural anathema to fuch innovators.* The con- du 1 of Goriolanus, rightly judged, was neither bafe nor treacherous. It was noble. Though induced by the en- treaties, and indeed by the irrefiflible perfuafions of his excellent mother, he faved the ungrateful Romans, yet he made a prudent and advantageous peace for the Vol- fcians. Confcious of innocence, he deferted not their fervice, but returned with their army, and in open fe- nate, with his ufual magnaniihity, maintained his de- fence, and was facrificed, not to the juftice of the ftate, but to the jealoufy of his ambitious rival. Shakefpeare lias moft forcibly and judicioufly introduced his juftiEca- tion, in his mother's admirable fpeech, which apparent- ly convinced Aufidius himfelf. She fays, '< Thou know'ft, great fern, the end of war's uncertain. *' If it were fo tn-it cur renueft did tend " To fave the Romans, thereby to deflfo7 The Volfcians, whom you ferve, you might condemn us, " As poifoners of your honour; no, our fuit, ' Is, that you reconcile them; that each, on either fide, ' Give all hail unto thee, and cry be bkjt *' For making up tie peace!* In this fair view, the Coriolanus of hiflory, and of Shakefpeare, is a great ancient character, mifunderftood by our puny modern critics. KING HENRY VIII. A Tragedy^ by Sbakefpeare. THE critical introduction to this play is proper, juft^ and fufficient; a fingular cafe 1 There is a curious and ex- cellent original prologue to this play, which, with other * For I teftify unto every man that heareth the words of the prophecy of this book, If any man (hall add unto thefe things, God fhall add unto him the plagues tkat are written in this book. And if any man (hall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God fliall take ...way his part out of the book of life, ard out of the holy city, and from the things which are written in this boo*, ivev. xxii. 18. ly. REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS, ISJ invaluable parts of Shakefpeare, h in danger ofbemg loft, by the fault of modern editors and emendators, who have moil abominably fupprefled and altered his works. I \vifh that his juft admirers, who will certainly join with me in condemning the bulk of his critics, and all his emenda- tors, would alfo concur with me in obtaining a new pu- blication of the oldeft edition, without any criticifm or commentary whatever ; otherwife there is a ferious dan- ger that great part of the original may be totally loft, and the reft confounded and corrupted by modern alterations and additions. Among other fooliQi topics agitated by fome of Shakefpeare' 1 s critics, they make a queftion if he was a Proteftant. There are many proofs that he was ; and one line of the Bifhop's admirable prophetic fpecch> in this play, is decifive on the point, viz. " God mall be truly known, &c. * THE FIRST PART OF HENRY IV. SHAKESPEARE'S genius tramples upon and tranfcends at once, all the rules of criticifm, arid the dull folemnity of After all, it feems extremely doubtful, whether Shakefpeare was a Proteftant, or any thing elfe; for the ghoft in Hamlet is a zealous Roman Catholic. The following fentence, in the Twelfth Night, may help to explain his fentiments on religion- " If you " defy f the fpleen, and will laugh yourfelves into flitches, fol- " low me; yond gull Malvolio is turned Heathen, a very rene. " gado ; for there is no Chriftian, that means to be f arid by believ- " ing rightly, can ever believe fucb impoffible pa/ages of gro/nefs!* On another part, in the fame play, Dr Johnfon obferves, that, " It were much to be wifhed, that Shakefpeare, in this, and " fome other paffages, had not ventured fo near profanenefs." In the conclufion of the following extraft, the author feems to hint his doubts on the nature of a future ftate. " Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; " To lie in cold obftruftion, and to rot; " This fenfible warm motion to become " A kneaded clod. { Our Critic has here, for once, ventured to corre5l Shake- fpeare, and with evident propriety. Dejire is the common read- ing. -Note by the Editor. Liij 126 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. critics, in this admirable play. Too much of the Origins! is fupprefled. But this commendation is due to our ft, reformers, that none of them have dared to alter a word, or to add a word, in the parts of the Henrys and Falftaff. What Dryden, playing on the word, fays, of the Church- of England, may be applied here, " And lefs deform'd, bccaufe rcform'd the leaft." THE DRUMMER: A Comedy, by Add'tfon. I INTEND to have this piece taken into a volume of bad plays by good authors, in which Sir Richard Steele's Ten- der Hufband mould have a place, if I can find it. THE SECOND PART OF HENRY IV. THE capital characters are preferved with amazing fpi- rit and uniformity in this Second Part, though it pleafes not the critics, and the million, fo well as the Firft. The flage managers have taken monflrous liberties with this pby, and have fupprefled whole fcenes, fome of them in the highefl flyle of Shakefpeare's excellence. For this infamous depredation, the lovers of Shakefpeare can only be indemnified, by reforting to the original. For one example, the firfl fcene may be ranked with the higheft and belt of Shakefpeare's writings, yet is totally fuppreff- ed in this play, though it has been almofl wholly intro- duced by Colley Gibber, into different places of what he called his Richard the Third. THE TEMPEST: A. Comedy* THIS play is one of the wonders of Shakefpeare's geni- us. He flies into the regions of romance, and imagina- tion, and yet forms characters and fcenes that feem na- tural and credible. HEMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. *? THE ALGHYMIST : A Comedy, by Ben Jobnfon. THE alterations and additions in this play, were framed- by Garrick, to make his London audience laugh, and fo are good for nothing. THE CHANGES : A Comedy. THIS is the only old play which has been altered to ad- vantage ; becaufe it is the only one altered by a man of true taile and genius. This was Buckingham. I hardly know a more amufing play for the ftage, or the clofet. Here ia no conflrained improbable plot, no modern fludied language and affe&ed wit ; but comical adventure, eafy converfation, natural humour, and true character, fuch as comedy ought to be, and rarely is. THE SPANISH FRIAR : A Tragi-Comedy, fry Dryden. DRYDEN had many excellencies, and many faults. His dramatic pieces are generally bombail in the poetry, and abfurd in the plots, and were juftly the main butt of Buc- kingham's wit in his excellent play, The Rehearfal. Of his numerous pieces, the prelent is the only one which cart be produced as a proper entertainment on the flage. His other works entitle him to a high rank among our poets* His profe writings have merit, though his dedications are fulfome and fervile. EVERY MAN IN HIS HUMOUR : A Comedy, by Ben 'Jobnfon. THIS is an admirable comedy, though it is rather defec- tive in plot. The fcenes are highly entertaining, and the charailers are drawn and maintained with the fined flrokes of nature, humour, and fenle. Garrick's prologue is very good, but I cannot commend his alterations in the play. They are miferably diflinguimable from the origin- al, but good enough to pleafe the bulk of his audience. 1*8 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. No word of Johnfon or Shakefpeare can be changed, but for a worfc. I doubt if ever Garrick wrote any thing fo well as the prologue to this play, which indeed is admirable. KING HENRY V. A Tragedy, by Aaron Hill. With what a difgraceful motely.of nonfenfe and abfur- dity has the modern poet confounded the beauties of Shakefpeare in this play. As a fpecimen of modern emendation, it may be worth while to compare the ancient and modern prologues. PROLOGUE BY SHAKESPEARE. O FOR a mufe of fire that would afccnd The brightefl heaven of invention! A kingdom for a ftage, princes to aft; And monarchs to behold the fwelling fcene ! Then fhould the warlike Harry, like himfelf, Aflume the port of Mars; and at his heels, Leafht in, like hounds, fhould famine, fwo.rd, and fire Crouch for employment. But pardon, Gentles all, The flat unraifcd fpirit that hath dar'd, On this unworthy fcaffold, to bring forth So great an objedt. Can this cock-pit hold The vafty field of France ? or may we cram, "Within this wooden O, the very cafkes That did affright the air at Agincourt ? O, pardon ; fince a crooked figure may Atteft, in little fpace a million; And let us cyphers to this gieat accompt, On your imaginary forces work. Suppofe within the girdle of thefe walls Are, now confined two mighty monarchies, Whofe high up-reared and abutting fronts REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. J 2O, The p<- !. us narrow ocean parts afunder. . iece v,;.;!. our imperfection with your thoughts, Into a thoufand parts divide one man, And make imaginary puifance. Think when we talk of horfes, that you fee them Printing their proud hoofs i' th' receiving earth: For 'tis your thoughts that now muft deck our Kings, Carry them here and there, jumping o'er times, Turning the accomplifhments of many years Into an hour-glafs ; for the which fupply, Admit me Chorus to this hiftory; Who, prologue-like, your humble patience pray, Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. PROLOGUE BY AARON HILL. FROM wit's old ruins, Jbatfcafld o'er witb bays, We draw fome rich remains of Shakefpeare's praife. Shakefpeare! the found bids charm'd attention wake : And our aw'd fcenes, with confcious rev'rence, flake! Arduous the talk, to mix with Shakefpeare's Mufel Rafh game ! where all, who play, are fure to lofe. Yet what our author cou'd, he dar'd to try, And kept the fiery pillar in his eye. Led by fuch light, as wou'd not let hlmjiray, He pick'd outjlars, from Shakefpeare's milky way. Hid, in the cloud of battle, Shakefpeare's care, Blind with the duft of war o'er look'd the fair : Fond of their fame, we {hew their influence, here, And place 'cm twinkling through war's fmoaky fphere. Without their aid, we lofe love's quick'ning charms ; And fullen virtue mopes, mfteril arms. Now, rightly mix'd, the enliven'd paifions move, Love foftens war, and war invig'rates love. Oh 1 -cry'd that towr'ing genius of the ftage, When, firfl, his Henry charm'd a former age, u Oh ! for a Muie of fire, our caufe to friend, u That Blight invention's brighteil heav'n afcendl 1 REMARKS ON ENGLISH FLATfS. That, for a ftage, a kingdom might befeen! Princes, to aft, graced with their native mtin : And monarchs, to behold the {welling fcene ! Then, like himfelf, fhou'd warlike Harry rife: And, Jir^d with all bis fame, blaze in your eyes! Crouch'd, at his heels, and like fierce hounds, leafh'd in, Sword, fire, and famine, with impatient grin! " Shou'd, fawning dreadful ! but for orders, flay, " And, at his nod, -jlart horrible ! away." No barren tale t' amufe, our fcene imparts, But points example at your kindling hearts. Mark ia their Dauphin, to our Kin:' opposed, The diffVent jjenius of the realms difclos'd: There, the French levity, vain, boaflful, loud, Dancing, in death, gay, wanton, fierce, and proud. Here, with a filent fire, a tempered heat ! Calmly refolv'd, our Englifh bofoms beat. Art is too poor, to raife the dead 'tis true, But nature does it, by their worth, in you ! Your blood, that warm'd their veins, flill flows, the fame, Still feels your valour and fupports their fame. Oh ! let it wafle no more, in civil jar: But flow, for glorious fame, in foreign war. MEASURE FOR MEASURE. THERE are fome very high ftrokes of genius in this play r which, upon the whole, is admirable, and bears all the ufual marks of the writer's fuperiority over our other dra- matic poets. The additional lines, fo much approved of by our cri- tics, are truly modern, and fufficiently diflinguim them- felves from the- original text. To intimate the Duke's kind purpofe to Ifabella, Shakefpeare faid juft enough in one fignificant line, which is only fpun out, in the five fi- nical modern ones, for no other reafon but that the fag end of the aft may have a rhyme to jingle at it, to pleafe REMARKS ON EKGL1SH PLAYS, 31 a. London audience. The conduft of the cataftrophe, in fpite of our mod wretched critic's cenfure, is admirabljr judicious, interefting, and entertaining. THE INDIAN EMPEROR: A Tragedy, by Dryden. {From lihatis called a Seleft ColleElion of Plays, in three volumes, by Mr Donaldfon, Bookseller, Edinburgh.'] As bookfellers, are in general, the dulleft of mankind, there can be no wonder that their Seled\ Colleclions are very ill chofen. One of our poets gives a pleafant enough reafon for this chara&er of boolcfellers " Unlearned men, of books aflume the care, " As eunuchs are the guardians of the fair. The ill tafte of London has been gratified with great variety; it is hard to fay when it was at the worft. He- roic plays, as they were called, were long in vogue, till exploded by The Rehearfal. A new train of dramatic writings fucceeded, without the genius, and with all the abfurdities of Dryden. Vide Bufiris, Zara, Mahomet, Barbarofla, The Chriftian Hero, &c. &c. A new Re- Jiearfal is much wanted. ALL FOR LOVE: A Tragedy, IN this elaborate play, Dryden imitates Shakefpeare ; and, by that imitation, excells himfelf, though ftill he is far fhort of the judgment, genius, and happy expreflion of that great matter. How wretched our modern pro- logues and epilogues, compared to thofe of Dryden ? How wretched Dryden's plays, compared to thofe of the older poets ? but the tafle of every age feems to be happily fuit- ed to the talents of its cotemporary bards. We have been charmed with the quaint prologues and epilogues of Garrick ; and we are daily pleafed with the flat laboured produdions of cur namelefs dramatic poets. 132 REMARKS ON ENGLISH I' LAYS. THEODOSIUS ; OR, THE FORCE OF LOVE : A Tragedy, by Lee. A RAPTUROUS romantic play; it pleafes men, women, and children, who have not formed their tafte upon the fenfe and genius of Shakefpeare, but on modern novels and plays. OROONOKO : A Tragedy, by Soutberne. THIS is the only good play in the Bookfeller's Sele Colledion. MAHOMET THE IMPOSTOR : A Tragedy, from Voltaire. THIS Collection is wretched, but fuited to the tafte of thofe gentlemen called Bookfellers. I give it a place in my collection only as a patch to Sijakefpeare, and a monu- ment, may it be fhort lived, of bad tafte. From this hard cenfure, I mean to except the Siege of Damafcus. ft has fome merit ; and there is indulgence enough in this ad- miflion; perhaps the beft critics may blame it. But I pro- ceed to the merits of the play in qutftion. Monfieur Vol- taire could not abide Shakefpeare, which is not furprifing. They were moft perfect oppofites, as a man of profound abilities and wii'dom, is oppofite to a pleafant fuperficial fop. A total want of genius, and even of tafte and pro- priety for tragic compofition, is remarkable in every line of this piece, at leaft intheEnglifhplay; yet ithas a great run at London. The general admiration of this, and many other dramatic pieces of the fame caft, affords full proof that we are degenerate and ftupid. Douglas, the finglc good tragedy of this age, was at-firft rejected at Lon- don. Mahomet, Barbaroffa, &V. fcfc. live and flourifh there. REMARKS ON* ENGLISH PLAYS. 133 THE SIEGE OF DAMASCUS : A Tragedy, by Hughes. THE epilogue, fpoken by Mr. Wilks, is filly, and very like thofe in vogue at prefent. The prologue, fpoken by Lord Sandwich, is finely poetical, and worthy of the oc- cafion, and the actors. The play, indeed, is fitter for fuch occasional perform- ance, than common exhibition on the public theatre, having various beauties, and great imperfections. THE CHRISTIAN HERO : A Tragedy, by Lillo. THE competition of this play is as full of dulnefs and abfurdity as Mahomet, and lefs interefling in the plot, LADY JANE GRAY: A Tragedy, by Roive* I CANNOT read an hiftorical play, without thinking of a comparifon with Shakefpeare, by whom the characters of nature are perfectly preferved, and yet raifed above tho pitch of nature, by the force of a great and inimitable ge- DON SEBASTIAN KING OF PORTUGAL : A Tragedy, by Dryden. THIS play is full of abfurdities and unnatural flights ; yet we may diflinguifh them as the abfurdities of a poet and a man of genius, unlike the nonfenfe of the moderns. The moral is rigorous indeed. JANE SHORE: A Tragedy, by Rowe. How ftrangely different is the Gloucefter of Shakefpeare from the Gloucefter of Rowe. An audience of true judg- ment and tafte, could not bear this comparifon on the fame theatre. M J 34- REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING : A Comedy. THERE is no\:, on the Britifh theatre, a more entertain- ing play than this ; andl always thought that Benedict was Garrick's mafterpiece, but grofsly injured by his altera- tions. The curious and judicious reader, who has a true tafle for Shakefpeare's genuine works, will be in fome meafure amufed, but ftill more offended, with the modern alterations and additions which I have pretty exactly tra- ced out on the margin of the text. * The reader will, with me, abhor the ftage-managers, who have vilely per- verted, and never once reformed, or improved, our divine .author. In Act IV. Scene 3. Beatrice, Speaking of Claudio's treachery cries out Seat. " Is he not approved in the height a villain, that hath flander'd, fcorn'd, dishonoured my kinfwoman ! O, that I were a man ! what ! bear her in hand until they come to take hands, and then with public accufation, un- cover'dflander, unmitigated rancour O God, that I were a man ! I would eat his heart in the market-place. Bene. Hear me, Beatrice. .Beaf..Talk with a man out at a window ? a proper faying ! Bene. Nay, but Beatrice. Beat. Sweet Hero 1 me is wronged, me is flandered, ihe is undone. Bene. Beat- Beat. Princes and Counts ! furely a princely teftimony, a goodly count-comfect, a fweet gallant, furely ! O that I were a man for his fake ! or that I had any friend would fee a man for my fake !" tfc. Vide Preface. REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYf. I3J Here the judicious editor, inflead of feeing the beauty of the break in the name of Beatrice, has altered it for thateloquent monyfyllable BUT.* By this fample you may judge of the havock made among Shakeipeare's other plays, and in your own library, preferve the original author. I look on -it as one evidence of degeneracy in fenfe andgood taile, that thefe deteftable alterations have been fuffered, and are flill allowed on the ftage. A judicious critic, yet to come, may retrench fome parts of Shakefpeare. The greatnefs and force of his imagination fometimes fly into obfcurity, perhaps from defec"l of our fight. But it is im- poflible both to alter and amend him. There is, in page 34th of this play, a curious alteration of the text, where the critic makes the Clown laugh mofl improperly. Vide Shakefpeare's advice to players in Hamlet " Let thofe t; that play the Clown, fpeak no more than is Jet dawn " for them. For there be of them that will themfelves " laugh, to ktonjbme quantity of barren fpeftators to " laugh too ; though, in the mean time, Ibme neceflary " queflion of the play be then to be confidered. That's " villainous, and (hews a moil pitiful ambition in the fool " that ufes it." THE COUNTRY WIFE : A Comedy, by Wycberly* THERE are wit, humour, eafy and lively converfation, variety of character, and pleaflng adventure in this play; but there is a very unpardonable want of delicacy and de- cency. A lewd young fellow gains full credit to a report, that he had, by a famionable misfortune, loft his virility. By this means, he cuckolds all the hufbands, and lies with all the women of the drama. There are, however, weak fcenes in the play, improbabilities and, I think the characters both of Pinchwife andSparkifli are outre. * Vide Bell's edition, printed in 1774, Vol. II. p. 366, " regu- " lated from the prompt books" of the two Theatres Royal in London. Mij 13 REMARKS ON ENGLISH LAYS. To make a dance of cuckolds at the end of this play, is a judicious conduct in the author, but a fhamelefs ex- hibition on a public theatre. THE CITY WIVES; OR THE CONFEDERACY : A Comedy, by Vanburgb. THIS is one of thofe plays which throw infamy upon the London ftage, and general tafle, though it is not deftitute of. wit and humour. A people muft be in the laft degree depraved, among whom fuch public entertainments are produced and encouraged. In this fymptom of degene- rate manners, we are, I believe, unmatched by any nation that is, or ever was, in the world. There Is one good line in the epilogue j but neither judgment nor moral in the play, though there are ftrokes of wit, and fome de- tached fcenes of humour in it. THE SUSPICIOUS HUSBAND: A Comedy, by Hoadly. IT is well that I am only a private critic, othenvife I could hardly avoid being torn to pieces for many of- fences ; and, among the- reft, for avowing no great ad- miration of this play. Perhaps, even in the fmall circle of readers, who may chance to meet with, and chufe to read my odd, irregular remarks, fome few may not mate- rially differ from my opinions. But as I have broke all terms of peace with the many, I defire to keep in my lurk- ing-place, and fairly out of their fight. I have always thought that this favourite play is not founded on a real knowledge of life and manners, but upon a motely imi- tation of characters and incidents in other plays. Bene- dict, Don John, and Captain Plume, are the models of Ran- ger. Strickland is but an ill copy of Kitely. Meggot is a collective imitation of Marplot, Captain Brazen, Wlt- tol, and other dramatic good natured half wits. The reft of the characters are undiilinguifhable, and lerve only to fill up a great part of the drama j for the whole diverdou REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 137 lies in Ranger. Till he appears, the audience yawn. Cla- rifla is Marianna, ill drawn, from Fielding's Mifer. But, though I am clear that this play cannot be juftly efteemed as an original piece, it has the merit of better imitation than ordinary, in our later comedy; and when the parts of Ranger and Clariffa are well afted, it is a good enter- tainment on the ftage ; yet flill it is a poor one, at beft, in the clofet. And when examined with more attention and judgment than is, or ought to be employed by fpec- tators, it will be found that there are only two good fcencs in it. THE CAPRICIOUS LADY: A Comedy. ALTERED FROM BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. WHATEVER ia this play is lively, proper, and charac- teriflic, belongs to the ancient poet. The modern part of it is motely, conftrained, and deviates from nature moil widely ; yet it is not inferior to fome other modern 'alte- rations of good old plays. Indeed the original, though it contains fome excellent fcenes, is not of a piece, and is not, on the whole, one of the bed of Beaumont's and Fletcher's comedies. I fuppofe this play had a great run, and high applaufe, at Covent Garden. THE HISTORY AND FALL OF CAIUS MARIUS : A Tragedy, by Ofway. WHEN I read this and other plays in which Shake- fpeare's writings are partly introduced, I always reflect on a beautiful paflage in his Richard the Second, which Dryden has jufUy celebrated in one of his Prefaces. " As on a theatre, the eyes of men, " After a well grac'd a&or leaves the ftage, " Are idly bent on him that follows next, " Thinking his prattle to be tedious; ^ Even fo, or with much more contempt," fcfr, Miij J3 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAY3. This diftinftion is handfomely confefTed in the prologue to Otway's play. " Like greedy beggars that fteal {heaves away, " You'll find he's rifled him of half a play. " Amidft his bafer drofs you'll fee it fhine, " Moft beautiful, amazing, and divine!" THE FAIR QUAKER OF DEAL : A Comedy. THE fea characters are well drawn and preferved; there .are fome fcenes of humour and natural converfation, but the two laft ads fall off. The plot is neither well invent- ed, well wrought up, nor interefling. SHE WOU'D AND SHE WOU'D NOT: A Comedy, by Gibber. THESE modern plays have fome merit, and afford enter- tainment when well ac~led on the flage, but are liable to many exceptions, and juft criticifm, when cooly confi- dered in the clofet. ULYSSES: A Tragedy, by Roive. THE genius of Shakefpeare formed natural charafters, and converfation, and probable entertaining plots, dig- nified above common life, by the power of true poetry. This author has ventured to imitate his manner, but very unfuccefsfully. Though there are fome happy drains of poetry intermixed, yet, in general, the cireumftances of the plot are romantic and uninterefling. The converfa- tion is laboured in one uniform ftyle; and the characters, like the compofitkon in modern drama, {ludied and arti- ficial. XIMENAj OR, THE HEROIC DAUGHTER- A Tragedy, by Gibber. THIS play is below critieifai. REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. I3f BUSIRIS KING OF EGYPT: A Tragedy, by Young, THIS, I do think, is the moft abfurd and ridiculous Tra- gedy in the whole of Monfieur Bell's Collection of the beft Englifh Plays; and it is written by thegreat (as they call him) Doftor Young. It is, however, hardly more emi- nently extravagant and outre, than another Tragedy, much admired by the many, and written by the fame au- thor, viz. The Revenge. * What an audience 1 that fail- ed to damn that play at the firft hearing. Yet it lives ta this day, at the diflance of half a century, in Bell's Gol- leclion of Choice Englift Plays. And we are tcld, is yet a6ted with applaufe on the London ftage. The epilogue has fome merit. AMPHITRYON; OR, THE TWO SOSIAS: A Comedy, ALTERED FKOM DKYDEN, BY HA\VKESWORTF. THIS I fhall have bound up with Addifon's Drummer,, as a bad play by a good author; with allowance, in this cafe, that the modern reformer has made it worfe. j- * To this lift, may be added THE BROTHERS. In one Icene Dr. Y. introduces Perfeus imitating a paflage in Macbeth; but the imitation is attended wtth fome very ridiculous circumftances. - f If Hawkefworth falls behind Dryden, the latter is at leaft as much inferior to Plautus. In the original Latin, there is a long and very pleafing prologue, and the defcription of a battle, in the very firft fcene of the play, has little to fear by acompari- fonwith Epic Poetty. Of Plautus, atranflation in five large o&a- vo volumes, has been publifhed, under the name of the late Mr. Bonnel Thornton, and another Gentleman. Had their book re- tained the Latin text, it mufthave been of value. The pretend*, ed verfion is in blank verfe, and intolerable. *43 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. EURYDIGE: A Tragedy, by Mallet. ARTIFICIAL poetry, laboured language, and romantic love are too remote from nature and Shakefpeare to pleafe me; yet they commonly gain a temporary applaufe from the fond many, and uninformed r-norajnce continues to admire. The epilogue was no doubt received with great applaufe. " We are fuch fluff " As dreams are made of." THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR: A Comedy. IF there waS^nothing in Falftaff's character, as our cri- tics defcribe it, but "rodomontades, lies, and jollity," Queen Elizabeth would never have defired a continua- " tion of it. But her judgment difcerned higher qualities in it, a great meafure of fhrewd fenfe, and incomparable humour. A continuation of the fame identical characler in this play, without flattening in the leaft, is an amaz- ing proof of the ilrength of Shakefpeare's genius. AURENG-ZEBE: A Tragedy, by Dryden. THIS is by far the beft rhyming play in the Englifh lan- guage; yet though it has beauties, it has many abfurdi- ties. * I give great credit to Dryden for the elegant en- * Such as the following couplet : " Dara, the eldeft, bears a Gen'roui mind, " But to implacable revenge Inclln'd." The lines that follow are worthy of a place in the fublimeft page of Lucretius or Juvenal. " When I confider life, 'tis all a cheat ; " " Yet fool'd with hope, men fa^ur the deceit ; " Truft on, and think to-morrow will repay ; " To-morrow's falfer than the former day, " Lies worfe ; and while it fays we (hall be bleft ' With fome new joys, cuts off what we po.Teft, REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. 14! eoiriium upon Shakefpeare, and his full confeffion of great inferiority in his own dramatic talents. The lines which I refer to, are in the prologue, and feem to me fo jufl and beautiful, that I fhall take leave to iu- 1'crt them. " But fpite of all his pride, a fecret fliame ' Invades his breaft at Shakefpeare's facred name : " Aw'd when he heai's his godlike Romans rage, " He, in a juft defpair would quit the ftage; " And to an age lefs polifh'd, more unfkill'd, " Does, with difdain, the foremoft honours yield. ' As with the greater dead, he dares not ftrive, " He would not match his verfe with thofe who live ; " Let him retire, between two ages caft, " The firft of this, and hindmofl of the laft." The poetry is fine, eafy, and agreeable, but there is fomething abfurd, romantic, and fantaftical, in a great part of the love, that is to fay, in a great part of the play. Shakcfpeare never thought of love in this extravagant fafhion. *' Strange cozenage ! none would live paft years again, " Yet all hope pleafure in what yet remain ; ' And from the dregs of life think to receive " What the firft fprightly running could not give. " I'm tir'd with waiting for this chymic gold, " Which fools us young, and beggars us when old." It is a pity that Dryden could not have feen the third volume of Colonel Dow's work, as that volume is, perhaps, the mod pa- thetic and interefting hiflorical compofition now extant. The fate af this very Dara, is, in particular, irrefiftibly affefting. There is another book, intitled, Memoirs of Eradut Khan, tranflated by Captain Jonathan Scott, and printed in 1786, which contains, an account of the laft year of the reign of Aureng-Zebe. Some letters written by that great monarch, a fhort time before his death, are inferted, and contain a humiliating leflbn to the maf- ters of mankind. Thefe works have not acquired the attention they deferve ; and Mr. Gibbon has gone out of his way, to fneer at Colonel Dow. But if Mr. Dryden had ever feen either of them, he would at once have difcovered the richeft materials for tragic poetry. 142 KEJIARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. ISABELLA; OR, THE FATAL MARRIAGE: A Tragedy, altered from Scutberne, by Hopkins. ALL, or great part that is original of this play, is ad- mirable. The fable is finiple, probable, and very interefl- ing. The language is pure and proper, the. characters well diflinguifhcd and maintained, and the poetry is in feme paflages delightful. I fee no modern quaintn^fs, al- fedtation, raving, orbombaft; but there are fo many la- boured abfurditics in the kfl at, that I fufpedl the mo- dern managers have tampwed with it. CREUSA, QUEEN OF ATHENS: A Tragedy, by William Wbitebead, Efq. THESE is fomething very fingular in this play. The poetry is good, the language is pure and proper. There are in it no extravagant unnatural flights, no romantic love, no modern bombafl. I can hardly find fault with any particular part of it, yet I cannot much applaud the whole. PLAYS WRITTEN FOR A PRIVATE THEATRE : By William Davits. NEWS; THE MALADY: A Comedy, in three Afts. THE MODE: A Comedy, in Five Afts. THE GENEROUS COUNTERFEIT : A Comedy, in Five ASts. BETTER LATE THAN NEVER : A Comedy, in Five Afts. THE MAN OF HONOUR: A Comedy, in Five Ais. I HAVE fome favour for this author, on account of his good intentions to reform a taftelefs age, and entertain US with fpecimens of genuine comedy. I read on, till my patience failed, and till I was quite convinced of his in"- REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 143 ability to furpai's other modern dramatic writers. He talks of Moliere as a pattern of excellence, without an_y meafure of his happy genius. lie damns, and juftly, our modern dramatic writers, without difcovering fuperior talents. In place of a pleafant and eafy imitation, he falls, like other modern comic writers, into a ftudied af- fcdlation of nature. He is as fantaflical in his inftru&ions to the players, as either Mr. Bayes, or General Burgoyne.* \Vher34ie means to be either witty or pathetic, he is ut- terly infipid ; and particularly in the abfurdity of invented names to his Dramatis Perfo^, he outdoes even our mo- dern farce writers. Of this, I mould let down fome in- ftances for a monument, but Indeed every one of them is remarkably foolim and affe&ed. To do him'juftice, he has not much of the quaintnefs and outre which predomi- nate, and pafs for wit and fpirit in this age, and perhaps for that reafon, he has failed in the favour of the mana- gers of our public theatres. Travellers may find amufe. ment in a tranfient perufal of his novelties. THE GAMESTERS: A Comedy, by Shirley. THIS, upon the whole, is an exceellent comedy. Though the characters, in general, are loofe, there is no indecency * This name founds ftrangely for comedy, and it may be af- firmed without, prefumption, that, in the beft days of Britain, the performance of fuch an author would hardly have been received on the Stage. It is true that a. Ccejar and a Frederick have condefcended to write plays. But in them we vindicate fuch vivacity as the exu- berance of genius, the fportive relaxation of a. mind incapable of repofe, and too vaft to be comprefled by the limits of a fmgle walk of excellence When a field-officer performs his public duty better than any perfon elfe, the world has no pretence to cavil at the nature of his private amuiements. But when an in- dividual has retired from the fervice of his country, with the moft unaufpici'ius circumftances, and when, with invincible hardi- nefs, he once more thrufts himfelf into public notice, contempt uiuft extinguish all reflections on his chara&er. 144 REMARKS ON' ENGLISH PLA.73. in it. The plot is interefting, well wrought, and the ca- taflrophe is highly moral. The dialogue is proper and unaffected. The characters are judicioufly diflinguifhed and fupported. There is no forced wit, the bane of mo- dern comedy and tafle, and the humour is natural, cha- radleriftic, and entertaining. The evident falling off in feme parts, I afcribe to modern alteration ; but I cannot exactly determine, till I have compared it with the origin- al, which I am very curious and impatient to do. There is another play, a fort of tragedy nearly of the fame title. Though it is very modern and mifembly outre, it has I believe many admire; F. PHILASTER : A Tragedy, AS ALTERED FROM BEAUMONT AND- FLETCHER, BY WILD. THIS, in fo far as original, is a charming play, to be read over and over again. Sweet flmplicity, and tender natural paflion, diftinguifh it from the laboured affe&ed ftrains of modern tragedy, though ftill far inferior to the force and genius of Shakefpeare. THE GUARDIAN: By David Garrick, Efq. [From a Collection of the moft EJleewcd Farces. ~\ How flrangely different is this piece from the nature, fenfe, and humour of the old plays of Shakefpeare, John- fon, Beaumont and Fletcher. I fliould fcore every line, and make the fluff illegible, if I took my ufual method to mark by fcoring, what I damn as infipid, fiat, affedl- ed, or unnatural. It was received with rapture at Lon- don, and yet pleafcs on that ftage. THE APPRENTICE : A Farce, by Arthur Murfrby Efq. FARCE and mummery indeed! Itisnoteafy to conceive by what fafcination of acYmg, this piece plcafss any au- REMARKS ON ENGLISH fLAYS. I4J dience on earth ; but outre is the taftc of the times. I can hardly think that Garrick had fo little judgment, as to approve of this performance ; but he knew, that with the help of his art, and the grimace of other actors, it would charm his audience, and " put money in his " pocket." THE ANATOMIST ; OR, SHAM DOCTOR : By Edward Raven/croft, EJg. GRIMACE again, in place of good old fenfe, and hu- mourous nature. This too, is a favourite modern enter- tainment. The character of the French Doctor is natu- ral, and ludicrous enough ; the reft is in the ftudied,- af- fected, low, modern tafte. FLORIZEL ANDPERDITA; OR, THE SHEEP-SHEARIXG: A Dramatic Pajlaral. SHAKESPEARE is here mangled as ufual j yet it follies in this Collection of modern Farces. HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS: By David Garrick, EJq. IT is quite inconceivable how this piece, flat and in- flpid in perufal, mould be fo managed as to afford a run of entertainment on the ftage. There is in it a juft fatire on the infamous li-centioufnefs of Englifh fervants, and a low kind of humour, moftly affected, and whol'y unna- tural. The beft part of the fatire is levelled again ft high life, and is an awkward imitation of the incomparable Beggar's Opera. TASTE : By Samuel Fcote^ Efq. I VENTURE to aflert, that this age has produced no ge nius for comic entertainment, but Foote alone. Yet eve n he is far fliort of the flerling humour, fenfe, and happr 146 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. expreffion of the old poets. He was a diffipated pleafant fellow, and could not afford the pains or patience of form- ing a complete piece of regular comedy, if the Minor is not one. Yet his farces are amufing on the ftage, and in the clofet. THE UPHOLSTERER: By Arthur Murphy, Efq. THE outre prevails in every character and fcene, to pleafe a London populace. LETHE: By David Garrick, Efq. THE fcene which exhibits Lord Chalkflone is good. The reft are trivial, and quite in modern tafte. THE DEUCE IS IN HIM: By George Co/man, Efq. THIS piece has uncommon merit. The plot is well fan- cied, and agreeably managed. The dialogue is natural and charafteriftic, without fiatnefs, or that fludied corn- pofition of the poet, which appears, for the moft part, in our modern comedy. I am agreeably furprifed to find, in this very modern Collection, one piece on which I can beftow fuch commendation. THE KNIGHTS. THE plot is foolifh enough, and the foolifh characters are ludicrous and diverting enough, to pleafe, very highly, a London audience. THE SULTAN : By Samuel Fcote, Efq. OE can fay nothing of this, but, that it is nothing at REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 147 THE CHAPLET : By Mofes Mendez, Efq. THE Beggar's Opera is the only mufical entertainment of true genius in the Englifh language, I mean of the comic fort. The Comus of Milton is in a higher flyle. Whoever can read thefe pieces, or has feen them perform- ed on the ftage, and can bear with patience this, and all the refl of our Englifti operas, " May juftly be reckoned an afs." I except our charming Scots paftoral, the Gentle Shep- herd, and defpife all diftinftions of South and North Bri- tain ; happy, and vain to think, that Shakefpeare, Mil- ton, tfc. were my countrymen, in fpite of ihallow par- tial pride. MISS IN HER TEENS : By David Garrick, Efq. THOUGH the characters are affe&ed as ufual, it requires a good deal of artful grimace and foolery in the actors to make this thing fo laughable, as it commonly is, upon the flage. Hardly any of our modern dramatic poets have the clofer capacity to obferve Shakefpeare's divine leflbn. 44 O'erftcp not the modefly of nature, for any thing fo 44 overdone, is from the purpofe of plays, whofe end both a at the firft, and now, was, and is, to bold, as it were, 44 the mirror up to nature, to fhew virtue her own fea- 44 ture, fcorn her own image, and the very age and body 44 of the time, its form and prefiure. Now, this ever- 44 dene, or come tardy off, though it make the unfkilful 44 laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve ; the cen- 44 fare of which one muft overfway a whole theatre of 44 others. Oh 1 I have feen plays, and heard them praif- 14 ed, and that highly, which imitated humanity abomi- 44 nably." The Decies repetita placebit of Horace, will not apply, at leafl in perufal, to many of the pieces in this Golleaion. But travellers of fenfe and tafle (they do not crowd our Nij 148 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. highways and inns) may find amufement in fome of I deferve at leifl forgivenefs from every travelle,. .- landlordwho keeps an open houfe, mould not be cenfured for a difh he likes, though an ill one at his table. But every traveller is welcome to damn me as a bad critic, if he thinks proper. I beg, once for all, that the Englifh traveller who may chance to calthis eye on thefe remarks, will believe, that when I exprefs contempt of a London audience, which I moft heartily feel, I meaiuio reflection on THE NATION IN GENERAL, NOR THAT AUDI- ENCE IN PARTICULAR, but the bulk of them, who are TiOt Englifhmen, but the fweepings of every country in Europe. A part of them are undoubtedly fuperior judges of the Englifh drama : but their voice is loft in the tumult of an ignorant and licentious vulgar, great and fmall. Time brings on their judgment to prevail ; and fuppreffes from age to age, the fooleries pafr, for an endlefs fuccef- iion of new ones. Thus, claflical productions are thinly Scattered through the courfe of time, and thus antiquity is juftly valued.* * Mr. Congreve appears to have been exa&ly of this opinion, with refpeft to the chara&er and tafte of a London audience. In a letter, dated the 9th of December 1704, he fays, " Cibber " has produced a play.f confifting of fine gentlemen, and fine " converfation altogether ; which the ridiculous town, for the " moft pan, likes ; but there are fome that know better" Vide Berkley's Literary Relics, published in 1789. Many of Dryden's prologues and epilogues contain nothing elfe but abufe of his au- dience, whom he loudly charges with the want of candour, judg- ment, and common fenfe. The Speftator tells us, that in his age, indecency was expected in every new comedy. He adds, That, for this reafon, many ladit s of bis acquaintance, werepartiularjy careful to attend every new play, on the firft night. A notable ,fpecimen of the virtue of our grandmothers ! It would be chime- fThe Carelefs HufbanA REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 149 THE MAYOR OF GARRET : BY SAMUEL FOOTE, ESQ^ THE fimple Jerry Sneak, and his termagant fpoufe, are comical chara&ers. Jerry was created to fit the peculiar humour of Weflon the player, and probably will never be fo entertaining, by the performance of any future aft- er. Major Sturgeon, a character outre, as ufual in mo- dern comedy, fuited the extravagant drollery of Foote, the author. The reft is infipid. THE REPRISAL. By Dr. Smollet. THIS gentlemen had humour, and parts, of which his Roderick Random, and fome other pieces, will be a lafl- rical to queftion the judgment of Congreve and Dryden, or the information of fo intelligent and polite a writer as the Spe&ator. Trinculo, in the Tempeft, to the fame purpofe fays, " Were " I in England now, as once I was, and hud but thisfifh painted , " not an holiday-fool there but would give a piece of filver. " There would this monfter make a man ; any ftrange beaft there " makes a man ; when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to fee a dead Indian." But Cowley comes clofeft to the prefent point : ' Whilft this hard truth 1 teach, methinks, I fee ' The monfter, London, laugh at me ; " I ftiould at thee too, foolifh city ! " If it were fit to laugh at mifery ; " But thy eftate I pity. " Let but thy wicked men from out thee go, " And all the fools, that crowd thee fo, " Even thou, who doft thy millions boaft, " A village lefs than Iflington wilt grow, " A folitude aimoft." Thefe authorities, to which a thoufand others might be added, are inferted only to vindicate the text from any fufpicion of im- proper afperity. Niij JJO REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. ing monument. In that now before me, the characters of the Irifhman and Scotfman are natural and entertain- ing. Heartly and the Lady are no characters at all. And *o fuit the ungenerous pride of a London rabble, the Frenchmen are too much debafed, and treated with il- liberal contempt; though Captain Lyon's concluding fpeech makes fome amends for this fault. The fongs are in the low modern ftyle. Hearts of oak is borrowed. THE DEVIL TO PAY: By Charles Coffey, Efg. COMICAL aftors in Jobfon, Nell, and the Lady, make this piece laughable on the ftage. In private perufal, it is lotv, flat and abfurd. There is one good fong in it, page 68. and 69. The reft are execrable. Indeed, the bulk of this Collection of celebrated Farces, are fuch, that if you wilh to have entertainment, in feeing them acted on the ftage, you mould never read one of them. If you want to read theatrical pieces with tafte and plea- fure, you muft go back to the old poets. Gay's " What *' d'ye Call it" is the beft modern little piece or farce, but is not to be expected in a Bookfeller's Collection.* That muft be fuited to his own and the popular tafte ; and fo what good ones you have, fall in by mere chance. THE LYING VALET : By David Garrick^ Efq. WE have here a foolifh plot, no natural or interefting character, and as little true original wit, or humour. Garrick, in all his pieces,, copies from plays, not from nature ; and yet by his great abilities as an actor, and by his art as a manager, he gained, and long maintained, a fovereign direction of the London tafte. This fort of familiar gentleman, and pert fpeech-making footman, are characters very current in modern comedy When thi Colle&ion was publiflimg, ur critic advifed the compiler to ihfert this piece, hot his advice was rejected. Note by the Editor. REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. IJI and efpecially in the plays of Vanburgh, Congreve, and Gibber, but are not to be found in nature or real life, in the old plays of true genius. THE VIRGIN UNMASKED: By Henry Fielding, Efq+ THE affected ftyle and character prevail fo much in this piece, that I wonder not it is in vogue. The fongs too are wretched. THELYAR: By Samuel Foote, Efq. THERE are fome things diverting, but many more trif- ling in this piece. Extravagance and pleafantry arc blended through the whole of it. There is much good humour in the firft fcene, part of which has been injudici- oufly fupprefled by the managers. The Footman's fami- liarity and pleafantry are not unnatural, as ufual in mo- dern comedy, and are well accounted for by the curious Liftory of his life. THE CUNNING MAN: By Dr. Charles Burney. SHAKESPEARE and Milton only had the power of conjura- tion. This is miferable fluff. THE OLD MAID: By Mr. Murpby. I NEVER faw the original. This may be a good piece in France, but I am fure it is a trifling one in England. THOMAS AND SALLY : By Bickerftaff. InGgnifkant, filly, modern fing fong. 152 REMARKS ON ENGLISH FLAW* CRONONHOTONTHOLOGOS : By Mr. Carey. A BURLESQUE on modern tragedy ; in fome paflages pleafant enough, but every attempt to imitate the Rehear- fal has hitherto been very defective, though there is great abundance of new matter for fuch exquifite criticifm and juft ridicule. The plays of Young alone, though yet adV cd, and admired by many, afford more examples of un- natural flights, quaint conceits, and every fpecies of dra- matic abfurdity, than all the plays, ridiculed in the Re- hearfal. NECK OR NOTHING: By D. Garrick, Efq. [Fide Remark on the Lying Valet.} THE LOTTERY : By Henry Fielding, Efq. FIELDING'S humour makes a figure in his Romances, par. ticularly in Tom Jones, though the quaint and outre arc fometimes to be met with. He alfo difcovers judgment, knowledge of human life, and nature. But, in his Farces and Songs, he is generally fiat and vulgar. This pert in- fignificant foppery, is in the true ftyle of modern wit. The epilogue is, I fuppofe, much admired at London. THE MUSICAL LADY: By Mr. Colman. IsuVposEthe charm of this piece, at London, lies in fome perfonal imitation or mockery of known Italian fing- ers. It is no doubt admired, for it is very fantaflical, and at the fame time very dull. The prologue is in & defperate mode indeed. HEMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. t$$ MIDAS : A Burhtta, by Kane O'Hara, Efq. WHAT power of afting, mufic, or fong ! What fliew of fcenery can make this piece an entertainment to any au- dience above the age of pupillarity ? When one has feert no theatrical entertainment but a puppet-mew, or a har- lequin, he may be excufed for being highly diverted at mere grimace, or the coarfe jokes of Punch and his Wife. But I often wonder, that an audience accuflomed to fee the plays of Shakefpeare, can endure the bulk of other tragedies j or, that the fpe&ators of a Beggar's Opera can, fuffer this, and almoft every one of the other comic ope- ras in our language, to pafs one night without damnation. Yet a mafs of fuch mean mufical pieces have flourimed, of late years, on our theatres; founds without fenfe or humour, and mere mufical notes without a {ingle fpark of poetical genius. THE CITIZEN: By Arthur Murphy, Efq. WHEN our moderns try to write in the flyle of natural character, and converfation, they fall into a medley of infipidity and affedation. They can bear no comparifon to the old poets, Shakefpeare, Johnfon, and Fletcher, whom they mean to imitate. THE TOY-SHOP : By Dodjley. TKEKE is in this piece a mixture of quaintnefs with good fenfe and fome wit ; but it is fo full of ferious thought and ftudied expreffion, that I cannot conceive how any art of afting can make it a proper or agreeable entertaiment on the flagc. 154 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. THE GOLDEN PIPPIN: By O'Hara. THIS is an odd, fantaftical, mufical trifle, with fome hu- mour in it, if well fung and acted; and at any rate there is much foolery. THE ENGLISHMAN IN PARIS : By Foote. THIS is a lefs negligent piece, than rnoft of Foote's^ There is a good deal of chara&eriftic humour and plea- fantry in it, very unlike the great bulk of modern come- dy. And what is farce but a fhort comedy ? THE ENGLISHMAN RETURNED FROM PARIS : By Foote. PROPRIETY, eafe, and humour, diflinguifh Foote's pro- logues from the fludied ilrains of his cotemporaries. The " Invita Minerva" of Horace is moft fignificantly expref- fed by Shakefpearc. u Extremely flrainM and conn'd with cruel pain.'* This line is perfectly applicable to the bulk of modern writing of all kinds ; Vide Warburton, Johnfon, Gibbon, and almoft all our dramatic pieces, except Douglas. This play is abfurd in the plot, loofe and ill digefled in the fcenes, with a bafe tendency to promote national pride and prejudices, difgraceful and baneful to England in this unhappy age. Some paffages which the author in- tended to obviate this cenfure, are fuppreffed by the wile ftage-managers. Seepage xn, and 116. THE INTRIGUING CHAMBERMAID : By Fielding. THE part of Trick is, as ufual, outre : yet the fingular queernefs of a Glive, made it laughable to an audience guided more by the performance of aftors, than the me- REMARKS ON ENGLISH PIA.YS. IJ5 rit of plays. The other parts of this piece are fo flat, that no art or grimace of acting can enliven, or make them en- tertaining to any audience, POLLY HONEYCOMB : By Colman* THIS Polly is a fad flut ; the whole very bad as ufuaU Affecting natural character and converfation, the writer falls into mere fiatnefs and infipidity. What inundations of nonfenfe are difcharged upon this unfortunate country, in the fliape of prologues and farces, fc. THE BRAVE IRISHMAN : By Sberdian. HERE is a moft wretched attempt to imitate, or rather transform Moliere's play of Monfieur Pourceagna*. It is an affront on common fenfe to publifh fuch trumpery as efteemed pieces ; and bad as my opinion is of London tafte, I can hardly think this " Brave Irifhman" could e- fcape damnation the firft night. THE AUTHOR: By Foote. THERE is here the beft modern prologue which I have feen. Foote has a vifiblc fuperiority, when he chufes to exert it, over the herd in this Collection, in his formation of character, in humour, and in eafe, and propriety of ex- preifion. Intermixed with this merit, there is a good deal of ludicrous outre, intended, as I fuppofe, to fuit the pre- vailing tafte of the multitude who fill the houfes, and are beft diverted with mere grimace. THE KING AND THE MILLER OF MANSFIELD: By Dodfley. THERE is a very good meaning, and fomething pleafing in this piece. The defign and plot of it are worthy even Ij6 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. of a Shakefpeare's genius. His execution would have been precious indeed. But quantum mutatus I THE PADLOCK : By Bicker/toff. POOR enough. Yet there are worfe things in this Col- ledion of " the mod eileemed Farces." THE REGISTER OFFICE: By Jofepb Reed. IN -this piece there are a great number of laboured cha- racters, and fome pleafant enough as times go. CATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO: By D. Garrick, Efq. IT is very foolim to entitle this piece as the work of Garrick. He was utterly incapable of any thing compa- rable to it. Every flat and defective part of it is his. E- very thing excellent, evwy thing that fhines in thii dark Collection flows from the divine genius of Shakefpeare, and will delight the reader of tafle, like a paradife in the middle of a defart. A fcene of incomparable humour, in which Catharine's obedient behaviour gains a belt, or wager, to her huiband, is wholly, and moil unpardonably -upprefled. The prevailing alterations of this author's in- comparable plays, afford a monflrous proof of degeneracy and ill tafte. Garrick, a great aclor, was a mere quack in dramatic poetry, and mifled the world, like their quacks in phyfic, law, politics, and religion, CYMON : Altered from D, Garrlck, Efq. I ALLOW this to be the work of David Garrick, Efquire. Much good may it do to his illuflrious memory, as a cob- ler of plays and farces. REMARKS ON YOUNG S *JGKT THOUGHTS. 1 ffl REMARKS ON YOUNG's NIGHT THOUGHTS. TIHS vifionary poet u Makes fweet Religion 41 A rhapfody of words." SHAKESPEARS. 1 wonder not that his fon Lorenzo was an infidel. In this age, we have two authors prodigioufly great in the outre ftyle; one in verfe, and one in profe; one ferioua, the other comical. They are both much admired by the multitude of readers, commonly tilled by modern authors, "*' the refpe&able public." There is a wonderful fimila- rity in their talents, in quaint -expreffion, wild conceit, and ftudied fetches of metaphyfical reverie. The poet is Young : The Profe Quixote is Sterne. In my opinion, our celebrated enthuflaft of this coun- try, the Reverend Mr. Ralph Erfkine, in his Riddles, is lefs extravagant. I am fure, that he fhould at leaft be more amufmg and tolerable either to believers or infidels, than Dr. Young in his woeful Nigbt Thoughts. I know" no rule of criticifm fo juft, fo material, and fo general, as one laid down by old Horace, importing, that good fenfe is the only true principle and fountain of good writ- ing and tafte. 44 Scribendi redte, SAPERE eft et prinolpium et fons." I fhall examine the Night Thoughts by this rule, after firfl inferting a few fpecimens of Ralph's Riddles. 44 I'm here and there and every where! 44 And yet I'm neither here nor there. 44 I'm fchool'd, though never at a fchool ; 44 I'm wife and yet a natural fool ! 44 I'm poor, and yet I nothing want ! " I'm both a Devil and a Saint 1" I could quote from the Night Thoughts many fimilar paflages of fubtile and fantaftical antithefis; but I am a* fraid, that the bulk of readers would take them for charm- ing poetry. Thofe who can diftinguifh quaintnefs and affectation from true fublimitv, will find fuch pafTages u * O Ij8 REMARKS ON YOUNc's NIGHT THOUGHTS. ererypage; nay, almoft in every line. However, I fhall hazard feme fpecimens which feem to refemble Ralph's Riddles very much. u AJ1 knowing! all unknown, and yet well-know.! " Near though remote / and tho' unfathom'd, felt } " And though tmijible, for cverfeen .' " Know this, Lorenzo, (feem it ne'er fo flrange), u Nothing can fatisfy, but what confounds ; *' Nothing but what q/lonffies, is truej. Speaking of man, he fays: " An heir of glory ! a frail child of dufl I " Helplefs immortal ! infect infinity ! " A Worm! a God !" The " Devil" and the " Saint" are hardly fuch exag- gerated oppofites as the " Worm 1 ' and the " God." The following extracts I leave, without ilhiftration, to the common fenfe of the reader. I have fometimes quot- ed, and fornetimcs omitted to quote the particular Night and line at which the fpecimen may be found; but the Do&or's ftyle is fufficiently marked. " Procraftination is the thief of time I . . " What can awake thee, unawak'd by this, ''Expended Deity on human weal ? Night 4th, I. 195. u Oh love of gold! Thou meaneft of amours ! Night 4th, I. 349. " Are paffions, then, the pagans of the foul ? f One of th venerable ancient fathers held a rery fimilar maxim, Credo quia eji impofftbile. The name of this logician was Tertullian. A great part of his works is exactly in the fame ftyle. In particular, the reft of the very paragraph now quoted, is fo grofsly indecent, that I dare not (hock the pious ear, by attempting to inlert it. Yet our divines, of all defcriptions, are inceflantly appealing to the authority of this man, who vrat, ia every refpea, an hundred and Eftj degrees below Whifion or Whitefield. REMARKS ON TOUNC's NIGHT THOrGHTS. Tjf " Reafon alone baptized? alone crdain'd 44 To touch things facrcd. 44 Oh ye cold-hearted, frozen, formalists ! 44 On fuch a theme 'tis impious to be calm; 44 PaJJion is reafan ; tranfport, temper, here. Night 4th, 1. 629. *' Devotion, when lukewarm, is undevout. - - 44 Lorenzo ! haft thou ever weighed ajigb f *' Or ftudied the pbilcjbpby of 'tears? Night 3th, I. 516. 44 Death^s dreadful advent is the mark of man, 44 And every thought that mifles it, is blind. 44 Revere thyfelf : and yet thyfelf defpife. Night 6th, I. 128. 44 Man's mifery declares him born for blifs s 44 His anxious heart afferts the truth I fmg, 44 And gives the fceptic in bis bead the lie. Night 7th, I. 60. 44 Man's heart eats all things, and is hungry ftiil ; 44 More, more ! the glutton crys: I&rf. 1.123. ** The world's all tith-page, there's no contents ; 44 The world's z\\face; the man who {hews his heart, *' Is hooted for his nudities^ and fcorn'd. Night 8tb, 1. 333, " Lorenzo ! 44 This is the moft indulgence can afford; 44 Thy atfdom all can do, but make thee -wife; 44 Nor think this cenfijre is fevere on thee ; 44 $ara, thy matter, I dare call a dunce. Night 8th, 1. 1414. " When pain can't blifs, heaven quits us in dejpair. Night 9 th, 1. 497- After all, and as fome apology to the numerous admir- ers of Dr. Young, I allow that there are flrokes and paf- fages of genuine poetry to be found, though thinly fcat- tered, among the wild cffufions of this long and laboured Oij ifc EEMASKS ON YOtTNG ? S NTGHT THOUGHTS. poem. I refer, in particular, to the firfl five lines of Night Firft, and to the thirteen find lines of Night Fourth. For the fake of ju-ftice to our author, the two p*ffagcs fliall be inferted at full length. Night Tirjl* * Tir'd nature's fweet reftorer, balmy fleep ! ** He like the world, his ready v.ifit pays, " Where fortune fmiles: the wretched he forfakes? 11 Swift, on his downy pinions, flies from woe, " And lights on lids unfullied by a tear.. flight Fourtb. ** A much indebted mufe, O Yorke ! intrudes, " Amid the fmiles of fortune and of youth ; 41 Thine ear is patient of a ferious fong.. " How deep implanted in the breafl of man * l The dread of death ? I fing its fov'reign cure. " V/hy ftart at death ? Where is he ? Death arriv'd *' Is pafi ; not come, or gone; he's never here, " E'er bope, fenfaticn fails; black-boding man " Receives, notfuffers^ death's tremendous blow. " The knell, the fiircud, the maltock, and the grave; 44 The deep damp vault, the darknefs and the worm; w Thefe are the bug-bears of a winter's eve, M The terrors of the living, not the dead. From this, the writer runs wild, and continues with very flight andtranfient lucid intervals, to the end of the poem. The following lines, at the beginning of Night Ninth, may be confidered as one of the beft paflages in this poet. " As when a traveller, a long day paft " In painful fearch of what he cannot find, u At night's approach, content with the next cot, w There ruminates, awhile, his labour loft; " Then cheers his heart, with what his fate afToroX u And chants his fonnet to deceive the time, 64 Till the due feafon calls him to repofe: 44 Thus I, long-travell'd in the ways of men, * And dancing, with the reft, the giddy maze, 44 Where difappointment fmiles at hope's career, 44 Warn'd by the langour of life's ev'ning ray, 44 At length have hous'd me in an humble fhed ; 44 Where future wandMng banifiVd from my thought, 44 And waiting, patient, the fweet hour of reft, 44 I chafe the moments with a ferious fong. 44 Song foothes our pains ; and age has pains to foothe. The following detached lines, among others, difplay the fpirit of poetry, blended with conceit, and affedation. 44 How rich ! how poor ! how abjeft ! how augufl ! 44 How complicate, how wonderful is manl" And again, fpeaking of Narcifla: 44 Early, bright, tranfient, chafte as morning dew ! 44 She fparkled, was exhal'd 1 and went to heav'n." REMARKS UPON A JOURNEY THROUGH THE CRIMEA TO CONSTANTINOPLE: In a Series cf Letters from the Right Honourable Eliza- beth Lady Craven* I WAS tempted to purchafe this book, price one pound four millings, becaufe it partly defcribes foreign coun- tries where I have lately travelled. The fine female au- thor prattles agreeably, and in a fort of good modim Eng- lim language. But me does not over-load her readers with material information. Her converfations with emperors, princes, and embaffadors, have no tendency to excite en- vy in the minds of inferior people. PHILOSOPHICAL DISSERTATIONS : By J. B. Efq. 44 ELABORATE and little il$nificant" is a very general character of modern authors, both ferious and coimcal. I am afraid that David Hume, that able apoftle of infide- lity, gains ground by the incapacity of his antagoniftj. O iij c *6 2 y MORAL TALES : Tranjlatcdfrom MarmonteL that thefe tales arc in vogue, for they are- very abfurd and romantic. There is only one which I have read \vith fatisfaaion, viz. " The Wife of Ten " Thoufand." It is, I think, wrote in a better flyle r with more propriety, character,, and intereft, than any f the reft. ANCIENT HISTO RY : Tratt/hted from Rollin. THIS work, in the original, is full of weak and frivo- lous obfervations, which become ftill more flat by a bad tranflation. However, it contains information for the intelligent, and has otherwife merit enough to pleafe the unlearned.* There is manifeft abfurdity in Rollings application and explanation of prophecies. Rollin himfelf was certainly a weak fuperftkicus man. This charafter has recom- mended him to the admiration of many, indeed to the multitude of modern readers, both male and female. He very ferioufly afcribes to God, all the extravagant mif- chiefs done by Alexander the Great, and finds out that he is clearly dcfcribed in the prophecies of*Danicl, by the In a preface 1 to this volume, Rollin intimates that if Qvrintns Curtius had lived before the age of QuintiHan, he would cer- tainly have appeared in his catalogue of Roman Authors; and Mr. Gibbon, has remarked, that " thofe who place him under " the firft Caters, argue from the purity of his flyle, but are ''- embarrafled by the filence of Quimilian, in \\isaccuratf lift of " Roman Hiftoriansv" The paflage referred to is in the tenth feookof Quintilian'sTreatite on Eloquence. Of Roman Hiftorians he has named only four ; and adds '< Sunt et alii fcriptoris boni : 4 * fed nos genera deguftamus, non bibliothecas excntimus." * There are other good hiftorians, but we are not here difcuf* * fing the merit of libraries j we only touch ftightly on, the dif ferent kinds of author*," C '63 ) Ram, an<3 the He-goat. To convey a true Idea of his clia rafter, he Should be called Alexander the great Madman.; and to characterize Louis le Grand, we Should call him Louis the great Coxcomb. To Julius Csfar, to Henry IV- f France, to Peter of RufTia, and to Frederick, we may allow the title of Great, without a fimilar addition. Rollin tells us, that 4t Alexander was dear to others, " becaufe they were fenfible that he was before band u with them in affeclion." His foldiers- were like all the herd of mankind in all ages, exceedingly fond of vain ex- travagant men of rank and power. The Roman foldiers were fond of Nero T and the Swedes of our modern great madma, Charles the Twelfth, KEYSLER's TRAVELS, 44 MVCH ado about nothing," is the character of this^ and a great many of our modern books. Probably the translation does injuflice to the original, and makes it ap- pear more trivial. At London, the trade of printing and publishing books is often a mere piece of quackery. THE LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, L. L. D. By Janus Bofwdl, Efq. IF this biographer's judgment was in full proportion to his vivacity, and Singular diligence, he would have given, x much Shorter and miich better book. There are fome good materials, but- Apparent rarae nantes in gurgke vafto- I own I grudged my two guineas, till I read JohnfonV excellent Letter to Lord Chefterfield, which I think well worth the money. There are other good k tiers from him, and there are curious^ and fometimes very fagacious- anfwers to {lender fuggeftions and queftions by Tom Davies, Tom Tyers, Joe Warton, and certain other companions of this extraordinary man. Upon the whole, from a patient nerufel of this book, I am much reconciled r64 REMARKS Oy ENGLISH PLATS. to Johnfon's charader. With fupcrior talents, I think, that though exceedingly vain, he wasagoodnatured man; and that his prejudices againft poor Scotland, were not fo irrational and unjuft as I formerly imagined. Is there not a fable of ultimate friendship, between a ferocious Lion, and a lively Terrier? What fays Peter Pindar to thi? T is he filenccd, or is he fatisfied ? VOYAGES D' ITALIE ET HOLLANDE : Par J>L r Abbe Coyer. Paris. 1775. I HAVE conceived fuch an rdea of an Abbe, that if he turns author, I think he muft write in this ftyle and fa- fhion; pert, flippant, pretty, with little fenfe and no- iulidity. AN INQUIRY INTO THE BEAUTIES OF PAINTING: JBy Daniel Webb, Efq. London 1760. THERE is merit in this Treatife ; but it is more learned and fcientific in the matter, than elegant in the compofi- tion. A VOLUME OF PLAYS : As performed at the Theatre, Smcke Alley, Dublin, 1785.. A SELECT colle&ion of ling-fong farces, in high repu- taion, though without genius, fenfe, or humour. I. THE DUENNA i THE run of this piece has been great; eompofed in imitation of the charming Beggar's Opera, without any fufficient or juft refemblance. II. THE AGREEABLE SURPRISE. THIS is worfe than the other; feeble, foolifb, fantaili- cally improbable, and unnatural. It furpafles my com- prehenfiou, how the grimace of adlors.can make fuch thing* pJeafant to any audience on earth. III. LOVEA-LA-MODE:- A Comedy. WITH a good deal of the favourite outre, we find in this piece, more fenfe, humour, and chara&er, than IB moil of our farces* REMARKS ON ENCLISH PLATS. 165; IV. The POOR SOLDIER : A Comic Opera. THIS piece touches the bafs-ftring of vulgarity ttfelf^ affe&ed fimplicity, and unmeaning fing-fong^ yet it had a vogue. I have fcored many paffages which no patience ean bear. ON THE DRAMATIC WORKS OF PHILIP MASSINGER : 4 vols. 8vo. Lcndsn 1761. THE few who can tafte and relifh the fruits of genius will find them here, but thinly fcattered. Old Horace, the on- ly perfect critic of my acquaintance, the fenfible and ele- gant Horace, fays, Interdum bonus dormltat Homerus^ * and again, Non ego panels cffendar maculis. t Thefe texts are applicable to Shakefpeare, and to Shakefpeare alone, of all our dramatic poets. He fupports the dig- nity of his fingular genius through the great bulk of all his plays, though he fometimes, but rarely finks, and produces obfcure, trifling, or fuperfluous paflages. Oa the contrary, the bulk of Maflinger's writings in Trage- dy are flat and diffufe, and he rarely finnes, hardly in. any one whole fcene together. His beauties, though ge- nuine, are as rare as the imperfections and faults of Shakefpeare. In comedy, he is more fuccefsful ; and the reader of tafte will find a due reward, even for the peru- fal of his Tragedies. He will difcover golden ore in the mafs of drofs; a commendation inapplicable to any tra- gedy our age has produced., I except the Douglas alone* THE VIRGIN MARTYR : A Tragedy. IT is aftonifliing what beauties there are in this old play,, and what deformities. * " Sometimes honeft Homer nods." t I m not gfieaded bj a l66 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. II. THE DUKE OF MILLAN : A Tragedy. OF this play the Editor obferves, that the fable in ge- neral greatly refembles the tragical {lory of Herod and Mariamne. He adds, u The modern play of that name is ct more uniform and confiftent than this, but, in my opi- *' nion, has not fo many fine independent paffages." It is, indeed, perfe&ly modern. This has many beauties, and nature mines in it; as afFedted poetry and laboured dulnefs characterize Fenton's play. In Adi II. this Edi- tor cenfures Maflinger for permitting theDutchefs to de fccnd from her dignity to make fport for the galleries. The old poets reprefent human failings and pafiions in cha- radters of the higheft rank, for which they are cenfured by our refined modern critics. Thus they condemn the di- vine Shakefpeare, a poet, by nature, above the reach of all critics, for the moft exquifitely fantaftical humours in the character of his Cleopatra ; and they prefer the ar- tificial, laboured, afFedted character of Cleopatra, by Dry- den. After thefe remarks, it is needlefs to add, that I confider Maffiuger, as in this inftance, perfectly defen- lible. The publifher is right, that there is a degree of genius in his old poet, but I think he fometimes miftakea the drofs for the golden ore, and vice verfa. In the firai- lies of this poet, there is commonly a want of that clear- nefs and apt propriety which always attend the poetical flmilies of Shakefpeare. III. THE FATAL DOWRY : A Tragedy. THE lad aft of this play has more beauty and uniformi- ty than any of the reft, and is, 1 think, in Maffinger's ftyle altogether. It is a thoufand pities that this author had not more judgment. He had great parts and powers of dramatic compofltion. REMARKS OJf EXCLISH PLATS. 167 THE MAID OF HONOUR: A Tragi-Coniedy. IF there was a modern genius, but there is none, to re- form the plot, to refine the grofs parts, and to make the whole of a piece with the fuperior paflages of this play, it would deferve a much better flage than the prefent Eng- lifti one. It is in its original ftate unfit for any ftagc. On this play a few verfes have been infcribed to the author, by a horribly quaint fellow. He has many companions on Parnaffus. THE CITY MADAM, AND THE NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS. COMTAIN fine and rich, though negle&ed materials, for excellent comedy. The biographers of our ftage, inform us that Sliakefpeare was an intimate friend to Maflinger, and that he occasionally aided him, of which I imagine that the bell judges of Sliakefpeare, may trace jn fiances. THE WORKS OF HORACE, TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH PROSE: .By Charles Smart, A. M. THE fenfe and humour of Hoarce, arc as little undcr- jftood by this tranllation, as his poetry. OBSERVATIONS ON THE PUBLIC LAW OF SCOTLAND: By Gilbert Stuart, L. L. D. AFFECTED language and unmeaning fpeculation, with- out perlpicuity, without matter, without folid judgment, but of a piece with the bulk of modern books, which ne- ver will be ancient. THE REGENT : A Tragtdy, by Bertie Grtatbeed. THIS applauded tragedy is worfe than any thing of the kind I have feen. No {"park of genius, tafie, or fenfe, all Invita minerva ; all quaint laboured fuflian. Tempera ' t? REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. THE GENTLEMAN DANCING MASTER : A Comedy, by Wycberly. SOME fcenes of this play deferve our approbation. But there are many unnatural converfations and quaint double meanings quite in the character of fantaftical comedy, and falfe wit ; fuch were the firft rate wits of Charles the Se- cond, and they wouldbe great wits flill. Singular abfurdi- ties pafs to this day for humour and diverting comedy. J^JeThe Agreeable Surprife, and many more. DidWych- erly write only to pleafe a foolish audience, or had he fo little fenfe, as to fancy this matchlefs foolery true comedy? Such another complication of abfurdities can only be found in fome of our modern admired plays and farces. MUCH has been faid above refpecYmg the prefent (Itua- tion and management of the London Theatres. To fhew that abfurd exhibitions are not confined to them alone, the following obfervations, communicated by a Gentle- man from London, a few months ago, may afford an a- greeable diverfity of amufement to the reader. 44 Though I goto few public places, yet what is called lt puffing is carried on here to fuch extravagant perfec- 44 tion, that I was induced, by repeated advertifements 41 in the news-papers, to go to Aflley's, to fee the whole 44 houfe melted into tears by the affecting delicacy with 44 which Mr. Aflley's fuperior genius conducted tbe flight 44 and capture of THE ROYAL FUGITIVES. The King and 44 Queen of France who did not appear to have ever feen 44 company in aflate of feparation from Boxes, Pits, and Li Galleries, were at firft in a moft furious hurry ; but 44 when the King perceived the Dauphin and Madame E- 44 lizabeth approaching, his royal feelings quite overcame 44 him. In their better days, his Majefty and his daugh- 44 ter the Princefs, had both been Tumblers ; he there- 44 fore, in a paroxyfm of grief, feized the Princefs juft 44 above the elbows, and without quitting his hol ,-TKE FRIENS. l6f " her up as high as his head. He did not mean to throw 44 her Royal Highnefs over his head, but merely to bring * 4 her face into contadl with his own. After going through " the fame ceremonies with the Dauphin, all the Royal *' perfonages joined hands, and in a flow and meafured 44 flep marched to the mufic, ufing great circumfpedtion, 44 and many geflures peculiarly fuited to their own ideas 41 of the occafion. Upon the whole, there can be no doubt 44 that had the King and Qjaeen of France been as com- * 4 pletely difguifed on the continent as they are here, they 44 would not have been flopped in any part of Europe." There is here no defign of reprefenting a London au- dience as, by nature, inferior in tafle to the refl of man- kind. In every part of the world, the mob are much the fame and in no part of the world can fuch trumpery be admired by fpectators, who deferve a better title. THE FRIEND. ANCIENT AND MODERN. Ir any truth could (Irike us with furprife t Which happens every day before our eyes, The firfl of wonders is, that all pretend 'To feek to value, to deferve a friend; And yet that fcarce a couple can agree, In this plain query what a friend mould be. The prating prefes of an ale-houfe knot, Thinks human wifdom center'd in the fpot. The flave of learning poring out his eyes, Pities the plowman, nature made as wife. The fot feeks him who every care can drotun^ The bruifer him who knocks a bully down. Each terms, in turn, his company the beft, And properly deipifes all the refl. Difaflrous truth ccmpells us to declare, That common friendfliip is as light as air, That all its pleafures feldom pay the pains. That half the rifle will balance all the gains 5 2 P 170 THE FRIEND. Nay, pious Young, expiring at fourfcore, He who fo fondly fung its charms before, Forgot the peers, he once was proud to praife, Forgot the priefts with whom he fpent his days, Forgot his quondam favorites of the quill, Andjuft one tradesman mention'd in his will. But though your bofom-friend may prove a rogue, One comfort flill, depend upon your dog. He with eternal patience bears the yoke, And licks your hand juft lifted for a ftroke. Nor will he for a bribe betray his truft, But thinks he's well rewarded with a crufl. No toil, no danger will your cent'nel fly, For you he lives, for you he's proud to die ; One generous thought fubliming all the reft, Glows in his grateful, his intrepid breafl ; Yet could he fee how meanly you defpifc Superior worth in fuch a low difguife, Th' indignant brute would ac~l his matter's plan. And fink in want of honour like a man. "Tis but a bitter comedy to trace The woeful writhings in your patron's face, When fondly catching fome unwary word, You hint what help you know he can afford ; With how much confidence you dare depend, On the fine feelings of fo firm a friend ; That well you know before fix months have run, No living mortal for a doit {hall dun. Then with domeflic mifery fill his ears, Your children trembling, and your fpoufe in tears ; And beg he'll condefcend to plead your caufe, And for one day fufpend the turnkey's paws j Defcribe the jail, and importune relief With all the earnefl eloquence of grief. Behold his featurei freezing in a grin, To hint the tendernefs that glows within ; From gay to grave, in half a minute four, He vows relief lies far beyond his power. THE FRIEND. " I have a world of work on hand to-day, 44 And muft at fix attend upon the play ; u My foul takes fire at fuch a fcene of love, 44 For who like Jaffier can our pity move ; 44 And yet when Belvidere begins to weep, 44 Some poor unfeeling blockheads fall afleep : " Though fhe's fo fweet, pathetic, and fublime 44 I'll hope to ferve you at fome better time. " Thefe yelping brats have made your fpirits fail, u Shylock, Tm fure, wont bury you in jail. * c You fay the prifon is a horrid place, * 4 But faith 'tis not fo horrid as your face ; ** And after all this lamentable rout, * k No man goes in, but foon or late comes out. 44 The cells, you cry, are cramm'd with putrid air, 44 Depend upon't you fhan't be buried there; *' And when you catch the fever of the houfe, 44 The doclor for a fee will fet you loofe, 44 By fwearing that unlefs they let you go, 44 They muft, ere long, a winding meet beftow. * 4 Befides, you know, that all the nation fwear, 44 Some rafcals never thrive till they go there ; 44 There, oft the tradefman feathers well his neft, 44 And there the righteous from their labours reft. 44 And if you're really nabb'd, pray let me hear, 44 By George ! the news will harrow up my ear. 44 But if you 'fcape the cage 1 hope to fee 44 My honeft friend fome night, next month, at tea. " At tea, remark, for this new tax on wine 4i Is horribly oppreffive when we dine ; 44 And I mufl now be wifer than before, 44 And teach ceconomy to guard my door : 44 My fond good nature has been often bit, " 'Tis more than time to learn a fpark of wit, 44 And were I juft as filly as to lend 44 But half a crown to every bankrupt friend, " In fourteen days my whole eflate muft fly, 14 And for my hounds one loaf I could not buy. Pij 17* THE FRIEND. u Of corn my hunters only can devour, 4t As much as fattens all our parifh poor. tl Good bye The ponies to my coach are pat, " In this damn'd weather who would walk a-foot.'* And then ACHATES turns upon his heel, And leaves you to reflect on what you feel. And then you find how far you were beguil'd, And guefs his gracious meaning when he fmil'd} And ten to one your confcience will declare, That you have fpurn'd fome poor dependent's pray'rj That had you fill'd ycur benefactor's place, Yourfelf had juft performed a part as bafe. For mofl of us are but invidious elves, Our narrow hearts feel only for ourfelves ; Thofe few whom candour fcruples to deteft, At friendfhip laugh as loudly as the reft. But, mark fome fop untrain'd to ferious thought, Who cannot have that fenfe he never bought, Who ne'er has wander'd through misfortune's maze, Nor wanted fycophants to found his praife, Whofe falfe good n.iture floats upon the "whim, That all mankind admire and copy him ; "With foolifh, honeft ardour, he'll exclaim, That all my end is merely to defame; That thefe mean murmurs muft arife from art, The fpecious croakings of a guilty heart. For though but half were ferious, which I tell That this fine world would be the porch of hell j Whereas, a drove of bright divines atteft, That all below muft happen for the beft. Unhappy novice i and dar'ft thou pretend, The u who ne'er knew'ft diftrefs, to know thy friend ? Go then Thy thoufaiu's- with thefe friends divide, And quick repentance {hall confound thy pride. Thofe envied bleu^ngs on the mob beflow, Which our plump panons call vain things below ; Though not one lainc among them will refufe To pick up the iaft farthing of his dues ; fcORACE, LIB. I. ObE XVIlt* The partners of thy purfe will melt away, Like ice diflblving in a Cummer's day ; Then tfte vile farce of friendship malt thou find, And curfe, with me, the bafenefs of mankind^ And play old Timon's tragedy once more*, As fifty thoufand fools have done before. 'Twas thus when Socrates began to build; *' When (hall this hamlet with tnle friends be fill'd?" Was all the arch old man reply'd to thofe Who wonder'd why no prouder pile arofe. Thus too While Greece his eloquence ador'dj And PeruVs tyrant trembled at his fword, While in the vulgar's eye he fi-gn'd to ftiine^ "Wife Pericles let his preceptor pine. No friend appeared, a morfel to fupply, The Newton of his age lay down to die* * But lo ! his worthy pupil comes at laft And begs his benefactor not to faft ; " And why, dear father, would you not reveal " Your \vants to me, who all your forrows fecit" Infulting lie ! more mocking than the wrong Of letting the old martyr flarve fo long. For when I feel fincerely for your woes^ And really mean to help you to repofe ; I read at once your wi/hes in your eye, And when I can, at once, your wants fupply j But fhaJl not bafely make my betters bend, Nor in the BEGGAR wifh to fink the FRIEND. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XVIII. DEAR Harry you cannot do better Than Cover your fields with the vine. How happy am I when your debtor For a bumper of excellent wine ! Anaxagoras, a Greek aftronomer, of diftingulmed merit. Piij :?4 H6R4CE,- LIB.-I. ODE XVIII. The care that Is cutting your bofom, Before an old flaggon muft fly ; The rofe to be fure cannot bloflbm, When the bufhes are wither'd and dry^ The coward encouraged with liquor, On the mouth of a cannon will run, The curate look briik like his vicar, And the laureate will laugh at his dun. The furly for once are good fellows ; The graved are pay for a time ; Then do you believe, what they tell us r That cracking a bottle's a crime. As April when painting the furrows, Drives winter away to the pole ; Champaign, by difpelling life's forrows, Relaxes the froft ot the foul. But the fot, who would always be drinking^ Will very foon fee to his cofl, That want mufl attend want of thinking, And his friends with his money be loft. The hofl, who has rifled his pocket, Will fhow him the way to the door, And bully like Peachum or Lockit, Unlefs he can anlwer his fcore. Of all vile deteflable vermin, The vilefl on earth or in hell, At leaft thus their pigeons determine, Are fuch as have liquor to fell. For when a young fool full of money, Is galloping into the mire, They pillage his hive of the honey, And leave him to beg or expire. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXIIT. DEAR Chloe, you fly from my love like a fawny In fearch of her mother along the wild lawn, When each ruftling breeze makes the fugitive flarty. And each falling leaf gives a wound to her heart. Young, timorous, innocent, Ghloe like you, She fancies the hounds have htr always in view. But tell me, ah ! tell me, dear beautiful maid, For what is my charmer of Damon afraid ; Do I like a panther approach to deflroy, Your prefence, your fmiles, muft I never enjoy ; Remember at leaft, that you're fairly fifteen, And 'tis (let me fay fo) full time to be feen. And, O! could you guefs what I feel for your fake r That little proud heart fome compaffion would take. ?n pining for Chloe I pafs the long night, Or wake with a figh from fome dream of delight ; In vain would I ran to a ball or a play, For nothing can pleafe me when Chloe's away. THE COMFORTS OF MARRIAGE: WHEN Cinna earnM but twenty pounds a-year T No dunning tradesman Cinna had to fear. In debt to nobody, his heart was gay, He look'd no farther than the current day ; His income iufl allow'd a decent coat, An alehoufe ramble coft him but a groat. From him no barber had long bills to feek T He clear' d with every claimant once a-week. At night he drank fmall beer, and fmok'd, and read, And flipt as fober as a nun to bed* Ij6 THE COMFORTS OP M.\RH1AGE. He fhunrTd the fex. His fortieth year began Before he durft effay the pleafures of a man. Nay, when December chill'd the world with froft, That month, when monks and maidens murmur moflj When the cold meets were freezing to his fkin, Like Ruth no laundrefs at his heels crept in ; No drab to groping conftables could tell, That he, good man ! had made her centre fvvell* His blabb ng tongue no picus aunt could fear, On him no bawd beftow'd her wanton leer. At him, no cuckold bent the budoing horn, Wenching, in every ftiape, he held in Icorn. Surprifing fail ! in fuch a rampant age, So pure a faint defcrves a brighter page. Alas 1 how very feldom we have feen The virgin fort refift us till fifteen. But love of change ftill hnunts the human breaftj Thus Indolence itfclf grows tir'd of reft. The fot has now and then a fcber fit, Mifers, by times, extravagance admit. The veteran may make with childim fear, And furgeons have been feen to fhed a tear ; By turns the foolim follow Wifdom's rules, By turns, the wife behave thernfelves like fools. Though Fortune rumes in her richeil tide, We figh for iome enjoyment yet untry'd } In fearch of novelty our fancies tire, Gaze at the moon, and ftumble in the mire. And thus the hero of the prefent fong, Having fo long gone right, at laft went wrong. His wages trebling, Ginna took a wife, That precious balfam for the wounds of life ; But Care was quickly painted on his brow, He found himielf in debt, he knew not how; Such heavy, daily, damnable demands, A guinea never halted in his hands. His penfion mounted to five hundred pounds, And this you'll fay, magnificently founds ; THEOCRITUS, 1DTLLIUM XXX. 177 ar the man muft very foon be rich, Ifa] . , is his fpoufe feels the true fpendthrift itch. With nine pert puppies yelping at his tail, To talk of faving makes his patience fail. Maids, midwives, milliners, and heav'n knows what, Keep Cinna barer than a tar's old hat. On parim rates, tithes, laces, lodging-rent, Tea, china, claret, half his funds are fpent ; Thrice nine and thirty couGns have implor'd That help, his purfe, they cry, can well afford. His precious rib has ventured to declare, 44 'Tis vulgar on one's legs to take the ahV* In vain poor Cinna vows himfelf behind, Plays, balls, and fiddlers, fill my lady's mind ; And, as no man of fenfe experts to fee Two females, two whole hours at once agree, Ten times a-day his fpoufe and fervants brawl, His dear defcendants every fecond fquall ; His bed, his fhirt, they fteep in midnight ftreams, Pox, worms, and meafles, haunt his morning dreams. Each day commences with a cloud of bills, For taylors, nurfes, fpel ling-books, and pills ; To-night more cradles he mull buy or borrow, And a twelfth lextou's fee pay down to-morrow. And though, ye rakes, muy think he ihould rejoiot To quit expence, vexation, toil, and noife ; What agonies convulfe a father's breafl, While Innocence is writhing into reft ? Thus, to his fatal coll, hath Cinna found, That wedlock's holy joys are juft a found; That peace will end, where happinefs begins, And wives are the grand fcourge of human fins. THEOCRITUS, IDYLLIUM XXX. VVHEN Venus faw her fwain Expiring ou the plain,. 178 THEOCRITUS, IDTLtlXJM XXX. She fummon'd all the loves, And bade them fearch the groves, And bring the briflly boar, Whofe teeth the fair Adonis tore. The Cupids flew the foreft round, And fbon the bloody favage found. His fury for to check, One tied him by the neck ; Another, with his bow, Began a drubbing to beftow. Slowly pac'd the boar along, He knew that he was in the wrong, And trembled to be feen By Love's avenging queen. In words, like thefe, her pafiion burfl : " Of all brutes, thou moft accurfl, 44 Why didfl thou gafh my lover's thigh? 44 Why let on him thy vengeance fly?" The cunning boar had laid his plan, And, very humbly, thus began : 44 A brute, O Venus, would you hear, " By your facred felf I fwear, 44 I ne'er intended to deilroy 44 The lovely, much lamented boy. 44 But, when I faw his beauteous face^ " (I own it to my fad difgrace) " At once I kindled with defire, 4 ' And all my bofom was 'on fire. " I thought it the fublimeft blifs 44 To catch, at leaft, a fingle kifs ; 44 I ran to touch his fnowy thigh, 44 But what a lucklefs wretch am 1 1 " Now, charming Venus, if you will, 44 The lover of Adonis kill ; 44 Or, if your goodnefs let me live, 44 Thefe tufks a facrifice I give ; " And, if it be too little, pray 4t Cut my clumfy lips away." A TRITE TRUTH. Venus believ'd the tale, and fo Bade her Cupids let him go. The grateful beaft refolvM to flay, And followed Venus from that day ; And, a juft penance to impofe, Struck out the teeth that caus'd her woes. A TRITE TRUTH. "WHF.N by f<~me penur'd worthlefs rake, A frail fond \it, in i<; outwitted; Her rivals 1'uch an u} r< r.r wake, As if Ihe ought not to be pity'd. Mere envy makes their venom burft, They view the rogue with palpitation, And would, kind creatures ! if they durft, Afford him inflant occupation. But, if he's rich, and gayly dreft, They rum like moths around the candle ; And pleafure heaves each pouting breaft, Which he prepares to prefs or handle. They {brink, indeed, to let him fee Their ftraight and finely taper'd limbs; For though the heart is always free, The head with affedlation fwims. Their very toes are taught to fpeak ; * To whet temptation they'll retire, And while he follows, raife a fqueak, That harmony may fan his fire. How charmingly the bofom fwells ! How fwc.-tly they defy his vaunting ! * Naj, her foot fpeaks." Taoivui and CHESJZJU r8o THE WORLD A3 IT GOES. Each look, each amorous murmur, tells For what their balmy tongues are panting. His prefcnce is for ever fought, And WHY our maidens may determine ; Shall we mifpend one ferious thought, On fervilc tyrannizing vermin, Who perfecute without remorfe, The helplcfs vidim of'defpair ; But welcome, as a work of courfe, The robber with a wanton flare. The girl whofe petulance runs mad, O'er the perdition of her fifler, Is but a hypocriling jade, Who rages that the fportfman mifs'd her. THE WORLD AS IT GOES. OF thofe we call the great, how very few, The path to greatnefs happily purfue ; By dear experience every day we find, That riches commonly degrade the mind ; That he, whotrain'd through want's inftruftiyc fchooJ, Had prov'd a man of fenfe, becomes a fool ; As dirt on all beneath himfelf looks down, Nor feels for any forrow but his own. Nor thefe alone our total cenfure claim, All men are but another and tbefame ; And he who molt at human folly rails, Always m fome grand point of wifdom fails. Let us, my friend, the varied fcene furvey, Sketch out fome features of the parting day ; And while the grinning world our faults declare, Shew half the fpecies have an equal mare. TIfE VfORLD AS IT GOES. I While one both foul and body rifles for wealth, "The helplefs lord of thoufands begs but health ; The lufty plow-boy wants a handfome wife, His hen-peck'd fire in fecret curfes life. The young regret the prudence of the old, While age, with terror, feels the blood run coldj The virgin pines her brittle toy to crack, The teeming fpoufe expires upon the rack ; While poor foot-pafTengers are quite bemii-'d. The jolting coach her ladyfhip hath tir'd ; The fober profe-man would be proud to rhyme, The hungry bard deplores his lofs of time; And while his groom would gladly ftorm his bridc^ His Honour fnores, an wool-pack by her fide; Nor kindles when her eye with paflion fwims, Nor gives the receipe for female whims. The bagnio-cully cannot {lamp an heir, The beggar's afs-loads wring his heart with care. Befides, each inftant that we crofs the ftreete A troop of jolly wanton girls we meet, Who cannot find one filk that's fit to wear, Yet age, ih rags, with fcornful filence hear. The admiral fliares fifty thoufand pounds, The gunner fifty groats, and fifteen wounds. For half a fidler's falary per week, His curate, when to publifli or to fpeak, Supplies the rofy dean with fermons and with Greek. Though parching Spring denies an ounce of grain, And putrid Auguft rots their hay with rain ; Though fome fox-chace their harveft hath deftroy'd, Or fome tithe law-fuit their whole cafli employ'd, Whether his bond-men can or cannot pay, His Grace wrings out his rent, at each term day ; While law the jufti<*fc of his claim inforces, lo pamper concubines, and hounds, and horfes ; To buy his pimp a feat for fome pure borough, T-3 bet on dice to-night, or on the turf to-morrow\ I&2 THE PHILOSOPHER. Thus goes, and thus hath always gone the world, Folly and Vice in one ftrange hodge-podge huiTd. To hope amendment were the height of madnefs, Apoftlefhip diflblves in fober fadnefs : And Truth, concludes where an old bard began, " Who'd be that fordid, wretched thing, call'd man ?" THE PHILOSOPHER. A CERTAIN Philofopher lives in this town, Whofe merit Melpomene means to difclofe ; To whom every fal in all Nature is known, But what lies immediately under his nofe. His tongue, when you meet him, like thunder is loud, And Folly and Lazinefs keep him as poor : I cannot think what makes the pedant fo proud, Or why that pale face is eternally four. The Cynic, this morning, was trying his wit, And plaguing a cobler, a plain merry man ; The fellow who felt himfelf terribly bit, Flung his awl on the floor, and got up, and began : 44 What fignifies learning without common fenfe ? 44 Or, why do we read what we cannot digeft ? " Your ftudies produce neither honour nor pence, 44 But that horrid cough which is rending your breaft. 44 The end of all books is to better the heart, 44 Or with new ideas enlighten the head ; 44 And the Sage had done wifely in driving a cart, 44 Whom nobody living laments when he's dead. 44 You prove to a fecond, at what time of day 44 Achilles andHeftor began to engage ; 4 > You call them poltroons, yet have nothing to fay 44 When your doxy finds proper to fly in a rage. THE PHILOSOPHER. 183 " You teach us a fure way for winning of wealth, 44 And yet (who would think it) your elbows are out} 41 And while you are telling us how to keep health, 44 Each joint in your carcafe is wrung with the gout* " You know that Queen Befs was a virgin mofl true j 44 That Mary, her vidlim, defervedly died ; 44 But how many pots to the landlord we're due, 44 Or one, or a dozen, you cannot decide. ** When you look at the flcy you can fay, to an ell, 4i In how wide a circle old Saturn mould run ; u But no duck or partridge as yet ever fell, 44 Nay, guefs'd at your aim when you levelled a gun. 44 You ftate to a {hilling the national debt } 44 A plan for its payment you long flnce made known } 44 But, with all this preciflon, I'd take you a bet, 44 You never fliall know the amount of your own. * 4 You fpend half your life-time in poring on books j 44 Whata mountain ofwitmuflbecramm'dinthatikull I 44 And yet, if a man were to judge by your looks, 44 Perhaps he would think you confoundedly dull. 44 More happy, by far, is the clown at his plow, 44 Who never attempts what he cannot attain, 44 Than fuch a capricious haranguer as you, 44 With mad metaphyficks tormenting your brain. 44 And what is the value of Newton or Locke ? 44 Do they leflen* the price of potatoes and corn ? " When Poverty comes can they foften the mock, 44 Or teach us how hunger is patiently borne ? 44 No innate ideas can mend a bad crop ; u No fquaring of circles can temper the iky ; 44 Then all fuch wild vagaries promife to drop, 44 Or tell us in what does their excellence lie. QJi J&4 THE FA1RT Ql?EEN- " 'Tis very like folly, to wear out our eyes, " In guefling the diflance and bulk of the fun ; "* 4 I fear that a cat would be fully as wife, 44 To inquire when, and wherefore, balloons were bcg. '* A fmall fhare of learning may ferve us while here t 44 The farce of exigence will foon have an end ; 4 ^ And without the fatigue of deep thinking, 'tis clear, 44 That age and infirmity mufl make us bend. -'* Yoiutry to convince us that love is a crime, 44 That filling a bumper is arrogant foity, w That no man of fenfe would take patience to rhyme ? " That the Bible, forfooth 1 has forbid to be jolly.. 44 But I would not give one fond embrace of my lafs 44 For all the queer fecrets Sir Ifaac explor'd ; 4t Nor part with my fiddle, nor flinch from my glafs, " Or the beef r or plumb-pudding that fmokes on my 44 board. tt The tranfit of Venus your paffion employs, 44 In flaring at Sirius you lofe the long night; a A tranfit more tender enhances my Joys, 44 When Polly impells me to plunge in delight. * Her bofom, her clean taper'd ancles, difplay u More eloquent charms than a limb of the moon : ft When virginity foftens, {hall manhood cry Nay; 44 Ye Gods let me fhrink to an oyiler as foon !" THE FAIRY QUEEN : A TALE. OF all the knights accuflom'd to refort, From Cambria's wide domains to Arthur's court. The hardy Lonval was exceU'd by none, or ftill in danger's van, his valour fhonc. TltE FAIRY Qt'EEN'. iSj 1 ' "thfo* twice fix fields, where drench'd with Saxon blood, In war's grim front, victorious Arthur flood ; The dauntlefs champion conquer'd by his fide, v And, whether with his lance, he turn'd the battle's tide; Or the keen falchion hafted from its fheath, Thick dealt his Wounds, and every wound was death. When peace returned, his manners were as mild, As if with blood, his arms were undefH'd ; From rivals, not himfelf, his praife began, And foes who fear'd the hero, lov'd the man. But.monarchs have, alas ! too much to mind,- And Lonval, this fad truth was taught to find ; The king forgot the prowefs of his fword, Nor what in war he fpent, in peace rcftor'd : For glory, not for hire, his blade he drew, And fcorn'd, like others, to demand his due. His fcanty fortune by degrees grew Jefs, Nor did his comrades lighten his diftrefs, - But rather view'd him with difdainful eyes, For poverty both rich and poor defpife. This Lonval felt ; nor Would the foldier's pride Submit to fue for what might be deny'd. Boiling with indignation and difguft, 1 In royal faith determin'd ne'er to truft, Our knight, one morning, mounted on his horfc, And o'er the fields purfu'd his folitary courfe. He meant fome diftant region to explore, And ferve his proud ungrate r ul prince no more. To Arthur his defign he dar'd not tell, Nor bade one fordid funfhine friend farewell ; Content to live, nor yet afraid to die, He left his native land without a figh. He knew no fondnefs for that fpot of earth, Where nature thruft him naked into birth ; And why mould he forbear the world to range, Who forfeits nothing by the hardeft change? On the third noon, while paffing through a woodj Before his eyes a large pavilion flood. J$& THE FAIRT QtTEEN^ Two lovely darnfels drefs'd in rich arrayy Approaching with a fmile bade Lonval flay. They caught his bridle with a courteous air, Told him to leave his courfer to their care; And faid their princefs who hi^ worth admir'd y His much lov'd prefence in her tent requir'd. The knight atnaz'd at what he heard and faw, Alighting, enter'd with refpedlful awe. The lady rofe to meet him, and her face From every feature beam'd celeflial grace. With accents fweeter than the Syren's fong She wonder'd he delay'd his route fo long ; Then pr effing by the hand the blufhing knight^ (No lily as her own was e'er fo white) Into a fpacious hall flic Lonval led, Luxurious plenty on the board was fpread. She warm'd his courage with a bowl of wine, He fought no fecond call- to reft and dine. His brain with fuch opprefllve pleafure fwims; The fairy's graceful height, her finely moulded limbs. Each look, each motion, fets his foul on fire, And every vein is raging with defire. Few words are wanted here to intervene ; You all forefee the fequel of the fcene ; And only this remains for me to tell, That gallant Lonval play'd his part fo well, That in a trance of joy his Dido fwore, She ne'er had known felicity before. " My glorious veteran,*' the fairy faid, 44 Long have thy matchlefs feats been ill repaid, 44 And did not defliny my heart oppofe, 41 This day fhould pour my vengeance on thy foes ; : 44 Thy thanklefs chief fhould tremble in his blood, 44 And fhe-wolves litter, where his halls had flood. 44 What fcorn and mifery his- meal attend, 41 Who pines upon the bounty of a friend ? 44 Again to Arthur's caflle thou mufl fly, * This purfe in plenty fhall thy wants fupply. THE PAIRT QtTEEJf. 1 8"jr ** To wealth, like thine, each fuitor (hall give place, * And fordid beauty wear a welcome face ; " And when thy breaft with generous paffion warms, u When love, or glory, vindicate their charms, " When fond defire is flaftiing in thine eye, " Or thy brow darkens, and the valiant die, u This ring, thrice prefs'd r that inflant fhalt thou fee, " Thy guardian, vifible to none but thee : u I only charge thee to conceal my flame, 4t Nor dream I fhall endure a rival dame. w A faithful fpy thy bofom Til explore, " Then dread the fairy much, the female more." The amorous queen embrac'd him and withdrew ;, The fplendid vifion vanifh'd from his view. Mounting his fteed, he faw with glad furprife Arthur's tall battlements in profpedl rife ; And by the fairy's aid fa quick return'd, To prove his grateful heart, with ardour burn'd. At court arriv'd, the fplendor of his gold, Ten thoufand tongues with fpiteful wonder told r Nor need we fay how faft his friends increas'd ; How kindly he was call'd to every feaft ; What deep attention every virtuous maid, And wailing widow to his wifhes paid. But Lonval met their proffers with difdain, And love and friendship fped their fhafts in vain* 1 For 'twas his daily care on fome pretence, j To lavifti more than double their expence. Himfelf, his confort chofe it mould be knowny ^ "} That Lonval had abundance of his own. Yet no brave comrade, honefl, old, and poor, Retir'd without his bounty from his door. Now, what a fatal' farce is human joy ; : How feldom fortune fmiles but to deftroy. For Arthur's Queen, Geneura was her name, Had heard, long fince, of Lonval's martial fames; His manly form excited fond defire, And all her bofom. glow'd with wanton fire.- 1 98 THE FAIEf QTEENV But when flic fought her paflion to reveal, The haughty foldier foorn'd to hear her tale ;; Nay, rafhly vow'd that far fuperior charms Were at his will, devoted to his arms. To jealous rage Geneura's fondnefs turn'd, And all her bread for bloody vengeance burn'd : Now in the monarch's prefence me appears, Her locks difhevell'd, and her eyes in tears. w And is it thus,," me cries, " in Arthur's court, " That Arthur's queen becomes a traitor's fport ? " A wretch of yefterday, on pity fed, lt Who madly dreams to flain < is ibvereign's bed. 1 ' And then /he tun'd a melancholy tale, Of lull outrageous, and refiflance frail ; With what flern virtue flie oppos'd the cheat, How quick her fcreams compelFd him to retreat ; Laft, and mod infolei.'t T to crown the whole, What far more lovely miftrefs fway'd his foul. Uxorious Arthur, prone to be deceiv'd, The mournful clamours of his dame believ'd, t And had the laws allow'd to vent his wrath, Our haplefs knight had met immediate death. But this deny'd, he chofe the fole refort, To call his barons to a general court. Lonval himfelf was iiimmon'd to attend ; Next morn, an hundred chiefs the lofty hall afcend r And though a party in the fuit confed, The prince, in perfon, ranks above the red. A knight appears, who to the queen belongs r Begins her caufe, announces all her wrongs, And then, to clofe the leclure, claims aloud The jufl atonement of a traitor's blood. Lonval, too late, difcover'd.to his cod, The double ruin of his amorous boaft. Nor would the fairy now attend his ring, Nor could he hope to foothe his furious king, Death he defpis'd, but then to leave a name- Of guilt behind him, blafled all hU fame.-. THE FAIBY QUEEN. Nor with lefs agv)ny his honour mourn'd The fairy's generous love ungratefully return 'd. tfc 1 ftand not here your pity to implore " For one," he faid, w who values life no more. " Nor fiia-11 1 with harangues harafs the court y " The plea of innocence is. plain and fhort : u Geneura knows on what a vile pretence 41 She at my conduct chus'd to take offence. " But having now, by fatal raflinefs loft " A love more godlike than the world can boafl, " All leffer evils I muft blufti to dread, 4t Pour, then, the royal vengeance on my head i. " That grateful Arthur may with triumph tell u His fate, by whom fo many Saxons fell." No doubt, the reader muft expect to hear That Lonval's doom was inftant and fevere ; That every orator had fold his vote, And every venal placeman ftrain'd his throat ;. That all obfequious to the monarch's nod Were vain, like modern peers, to kifs the rod >. That this fam'd maxim fway'd the patriot throng,, A king of Britain never can do wrong. With what a tone of fenfe the precept founds I On this our happy confutation founds ; And all agree who ruminate the cafe, The fupeobutfture's worthy iuch a bafe. No premier with excife opprefs'd us then, Our anceftors, 'twas well, were wifer men. No baron kept the key of Arthur's ftole, Or for a paltry garter pawn'd his- foul. No jockey flatelman to Newmarket ran, Or hir'd, at Weftminfter, a bludgeon clam No fenate fang the virtues of a whore, Or tax'd tame Albion for a gambler's fcore. No courtly judge, or perjur'd jury dar'd A {trumpet's name from infamy to guard. Jfo vicar of a tithe-fuit chofe to prate ; No pettifogger iiick'd the vitals. of the flate. JQO THE FAIRY QUEEN. What flrange reverfe to all we fuffer now^ When every curate can arreft your plow ; When judges tell us truth's a mortal crime, And proftitution virtue's true fublime ; When feats in parliament, what precious ware ! Are bought like flails for cattle at a fair; When ftill the more extortion grinds us down With louder notes of joy, our wrongs we drowrir A tax on burials who would dare difpute, When 'tis to paj a bankrupt's birth-day fuit. Behold the laft remains of common fenfe, By hell-born fuperftition hooted hence ; How is that bubble, human reafon, mamm'd, While every faint believes his brother damn'd, For points of faith too {hocking to be nam'd, Which nothing fhort of bedlam could have fram'd ; Now Shakefpeare's facred page is fritter'd down To pleafe that motley mafs we call the town ; While fing-fong operas our ears have tir'd, And Foote, and all his farces, are admir'd* The candid court met Lonval at his word, Inquir'd what matchlefs dame he thus ador'd, And proffer'd a refpite of twenty days, For time to prove the juftice of his praife. And fhould his miflrefs, by the fenate feen, Eclipfe, in their account, the Cambrian queen, They frankly would difmifs the whole affair, If otherwife, for death, he muft prepare ; Mean time confinement was the culprit's doom, Jn the lone anguifh of a dungeon's gloom. The term elaps'd, no rival dame appear'd, And every feeling heart for Lonval fear'd; A dark fufpicion fill'd the public breaft, Geneura's motives were not deem'd the beft. Though ftill a punk of far inferior rate To fifty quaens of very modern date ; Twas thought fhe often held her huiband cheap* And vcntur'd, by the bye, the lover's leap. THE FAIEY QUEEN. igi The chieftains were conven'd, and Lonval brought Before them, but in vain an anfwer fought ; The court protefted he was much to blame, Who ftill refus'd to tell the lady's name. Their verdid, now, was ready to be paft, And this unlucky day had been his laft, When lo ! a blaze of lightening burfl around, And fubterranean thunder rockM the ground; While fuddenly, on their aftonifh'd fight, AdvancM a beauty more than mortal bright. Her form, her mein, unrivalPd all atteil; Tumultuous rapture throbs in every bread. 41 I come, my lords, an injur'd knight to aid," (With modeft dignity the fairy faid) 44 Though, fince he raftily vaunted of my love, 44 'Twas needful his fidelity to prove. 44 A wanton woman is below my wrath, 44 But ere her generous vidlim fufFers death, 44 Since nothing elfe can fave my husband's life, 44 Till once you judge the perfon of his wife, u Say might my fond embrace an hour employ, 44 Or foothe a warrior's bofom into joy f She fpoke : The council in one voice declared No earth-born daughter could be here compar'd. Arthur himfelf acknowledged that the knight, By fuch a choice, was nobly in the right. Beyond the ftairs which to the caftle lead, The ftranger queen had left her fnow-white fleed. She mounted : Lonval, fmiling, vaults behind, And off they fly, more rapid than the wind, For thofe far diftant, but delightful plains, Where, on her natiTe throne, the fairy monarch reigns. C 9* ) i STRUT: A CHARACTER. WHEKI STRTTT begins to read a book Which all the world has recommended. His fole intention is to look For fome pretence to turn offended. And, mould the author be a friend Whom we refpedl and patronize, To downright fcolding he'Jl defcend While Bedlam fparkles in his ey.es. Converting but to kindle ftrife, Rewarding homage with difdaio, 3"be total pleafure of bis life Arifesfrom inflicting pain And did the law yovir father hang, He kindly would inquire the caufe, On ropes eternally harangue, And pay your patience loud applaufe. An ufeful leffon to beflow, Provokes his fordid than kiefs pride ; for STRUT himfelf pretends to know More than all mankind know befide : And though he very fully feels The force and weight of what you fay, Conviction fullenly conceals, And fnaps and wrangles half a day : And when he can no longer fly, Like Pufs at bay, the chace he'll turn, His previous arguments deny, And your ftrange deafncfs gravely mourn. STRUT : A CHARACTER. IgJ Confcious how little he has read, The .fight he'll force you to begin ; And, hearing all that you have faid, Steals up materials, and fteps in. Silence would wake his utmofl wrath 4 Yet mind this all important rule, 'Tis better far to fave one's breath, Than quarrel with a peevim fool ; Whofe heart fufpicion makes her prey, Whofe tongue eternal fpite defiles, Who liflens only to betray, Nor ever but at mifchief fmiles : ' A bankruptcy, a rival's death, * A reputation to deilroy ; And his own confequence to breathe Completes the climax of his joy. To hint the mildeil mortal's worth Provokes a florm of contradiction; He drags your flighteft follies forth, And proves your virtues all a fiftion : But with fome " jolly, furly groom," The viper's bite muft be dclay'd ; He cringes till you quit the room, And then the black arrears are paid. His moral merit you fhall hear : He hates a wench, drinks only water; And, but from intercft, or fromyear, Sincerely fcorns to flinch or flatter. It isufeful to knowwhat (hocking characters may poffiblj es> ift in fociety. Some years ago, a Gentleman was thrown from his horfe, and report faid that he was killed. " Ha ! Is it fo ? I* " it fo ?" exclaimed * " ; " that muft be of vaft fervice to fome- " body; but i have no connexion witb any of bit clients." ( 194 ) ON THE NOVELS OF DR. SMOLLET. FOR the talent of drawing a natural and original charac- ter, Dr. Smollet, of all Englifh writers, approaches near- eft to a refemblance of our inimitable Shakefpeare. What can be more chafte, amufing, or interefting, than Ran- dom, Trunnion, Hatchway, Lifmahago, Pallet, the Pin- darick Phyfician, Tom Clarke, Farmer Prickle, Strap, Clinker, Pipes, the Duke of Newcaflle, and Timothy Crabtree? The laft is indeed a clofe imitation of Sancho Panca, as Morgan is partly borrowed from one of Shake- fpeare's Welshmen ; but Hill both are the imitations of a great mafter, not the tame copies of a common artift. Matthew Bramble is a moft eflimable portrait of a coun- try gentleman ; and admirably contrafted with his fitter Tabby. This novel was written when its author was de- clining both in health and fortune; yet he difplaysall the fpirit and vivacity of Roderick Random ; and in fome paf- fages, fuch as that refpe&ing the Smith's widow, is ir- refiflibly pathetic. All which paffes on board the Thun- der, is a feries of almoft unexampled excellence. The night fcene in bedlam, in Sir Launcelot Greaves, is drawn with uncommon force of judgment and of fancy. In the fame publication, the ruin of Captain Clewlin and his fa- mily, enforces, with aftoniming eloquence, the madnefs and infamy of paternal tyranny, and the delicious rap- tures of paternal tenderftefs. In the chara&er of honefl Bowling, Smollet, if any where, excells himfelf : The Captain's fpeech to his crew, when about to engage a French man of war, is fuch a mafterpiece, that, in read- ing it, we feel a fort of involuntary impulfe for a broad- fide. The phlegm of an old lawyer is happily illuftrated in the conduct of Random's grandfather, and forms the mofl flriking contraft imaginable to the ferocious bene- volence of the naval veteran. The difappointment of the maiden aunts, on opening the old man's will, is infinite- ly natural and amufing. The entertainment in the man- POLITICAL QTTEKIES. 10,5 ner of the ancients, affords a ftrange fpecimen of the learning and abilities of its author. The oration of Sir Launcelot to an ele&ion mob, is in the true fpirit of Cer- vantes. The knight elucidates, with exquifite fenfe, hu- mour, and propriety, the miserable farce of reprefenta- tion in parliament ; and the infolence of a rabble, inca- pable and unworthy of a better government, is in harmo- ny with the convic~lion of every reader. With fo much merit, Dr. Smollet had likewife imperfections. His oaths and execrations are indecent,' and unneceflary 5 and the adventures of Lady Vane ought to be expunged from the pages of a claffical author. In this age, many gentlemen publifli volumes of criticifm, and attempt to illuftrate the human mind upon metaphysical principles. In their works, it is ufual to cite paffages from poets, -*nd other writers in the walk of invention; yet it is fingular that they have feldom or never quoted Smollet, whofe talents refledl ho- nour on his country, and who, next to Buchanan, is by far the greateft literary genius of whom North Britain has to boaft. The admiration of the public beftows an ample atonement for the filence of our profeiTed critics. His vo. lu mesare in every hand, and his praifes one very tongue. POLITICAL QUERIES. THE Englim language has been exhaufted in panegyric upon the virtues and abilities of the prefent minifler. We have likewife faid a great deal more than was neceflary about the execrable coalition. For my own part, I muft confider it as a very mortifying circumAance that an en- lightened nation mould depend upon the talents of any {ingle individual for the conduct of its affairs. There muft certainly be a miferable defect fomeivbere, in the principles of fuch a government. Indeed, our legiflators have committed a variety of egregious blunders, and al- moft every day enlarges the lift. The tax upon pedlars was the only tax, I fuppofe, fince the beginning of the tg6 POLITICAL QTERIES. world, which was avowedly intended to extirpate the ob- ject of taxation. The neceflary confequence was, that ki South Britain, at leaft, a very ufeful and induflrious clafs of men were reduced to beggary. Had we been in- formed that Nadir Sbaw, or any other Oriental defpot, had invented a tax for the purpofe of exterminating its object, we fhould naturally have exclaimed, that this was tie extremity of opprejfflon / In the prefent cafe, however, we were fatisfied with a few fine fpeeches about the im- maculate morality of the ininifler, and the profligacy of an abandoned coalition; for with this laft topic the great- er part of miniflerial fpeeches, for fome years paft, have ended, with whatever fubject they fet out. The mop-tax fupplies another of many good reafons why the prefent minifler cannot hope to be remembered with regret by posterity. My only reafon for preferring him to his poli- tical antagonifl is, the external decency of his deport- ment. We have never feen him at the head of an elec- tion mob, fpreading terror and confufion through the ftreets of a great city ; we fhatt never be obliged to pay his arrears for dice, for race horfes, or for concubines. His enemies have very foolifhly attempted to turn into ridicule the bed part of his character. But there is a pe- culiar degree of duty of this fort incumbent on the go- vernors of a great nation, flnce their bad example may have the moft ruinous confequences. The following queries are humbly fubmitted to the at~ tention of the public. >uery ift. Whether it be true, that not many years a- go, the greateft part of the manufacturers of flarch in Scotland were reduced to bankruptcy? and whether it be alfo true, that all this ruin was owing to an abfurd and opprcffive mode of enforcing ths excife laws, adopted a- bout that tim , and that the few who efcaped were faved from deftrudtion merely by a timely relaxation in the mode of .executing thefe laws ? And whether all this did cot happen without any alteration of the law itfelf ? Query zd. Whether it be true that there is twenty time* POLITICAL QtJERIES. M)7 lefs foap manufactured in this country than there was five years ago ; and whether many of the manufacturers have not retired with their capitals into England to avoid ap- proaching bankruptcy, and carry on their manufactures there, where the excife laws are executed with far lefs -rigour ? uery 3 d. Whether the tax on agents before the Court of Seflion, and upon folicitors in the inferior courts of law, isnotgrofsly iniquitous? A licence coils five pounds a year to an agent, who does not perhaps clear twenty pounds by his practice ; while an agent who clears athou- fand pays only the fame fum. SHiery 4tb. Whether it is not a notorious fadl that the excife laws are making a rapid progrefs in the final de- ilru&ion of Scottifti breweries, and feveral other manufac- tures? Whether the number of brewers in the city of Edin- burgh is not diminifhed by one half within the lail fix years ? Whether fix or eight breweries, in the Canongate of Edinburgh, are not at prefent lying wafte, which were lately poflefled by reputable tradefmen,who have been dri- ven from their profefiion by the weight of the excife fcep- tre. Is there not one tenement of this fort, for which the pro- prietor ten years ago refufed thirteen hundred pounds, and whichat prefentflands unoccupied, though the landlordhas offered to fell the whole premifes for four hundred pounds? Query $tb. When fait is employed for curing herring, we are told that the duty is to be remitted : Whether the numerous and expenfive formalities, pradYifed by officers of excife, only in this part of Britain, do not render this in- dulgence totally ufelefs ? Whether this circumflance has not hitherto prevented the fuccefs of every attempt to promote the fisheries on this coafl ? and whether if not removed, it will not fruftrate the humane views of the patriotic fociety which at prefent exifls for the promoting of fifheries? In fhort, there appears to be no end of fuch queries ; but I hope I fliall live long enough to fee an end to a part of the encomiums on the father of the horfe-tax, and the creator of revenue, farmers in Britain, I$ ON FEMALE fBAILTT. In this lift of queries there is a wide variety of omiffions r for we have hardly a manufacture in this country which has not, at one time or other, been reduced to the brink of ruin within thefe few years, by the fevere oppreflion of revenue laws. It is true that both parts of the united kingdom are making rapid advances in wealth and popu- lation ; but this is not in confequence of good, but in fpite of bad government. We are no more to thank Mr. Pitt for the general improvement of the country than we are to blame him for the prefent cold fummer weather. On fbme occafions he may have afted in thebefl manner that circumftances vrould permit, but is he the only perfon ca- pable of ading fo ? My cenfure is levelled, not at the man, but at the wretched fpirit of faftion which per- vades this ifland. One half fuppofe Mr. Pitt the only perfon capable of preserving us from ruin ; the other half, equally judicious, imagine that the faviour of three king- doms is only to be found in a ftable, a gaming-houfe, or a bagnio. Yet in fyite of many faults, Mr. Fox has of- ten deferved the gratitude of his country. EDINBURGH, Jvnt ai. 1791. ON FEMALE FRAILTY. FROM PLAUTUS. FOND boys may fancy, if they pleafe, That marriage is a happy ftatfe ; And, could the fex avert difeafe, Might bear exiflence with a mate. Her wonted want of thrift and fenfe Is yet the leaft of Madam's failings j For what vexation, toil, expence, Succeed to her incefTant ailings. Difcretion, elegance, or wealth, My humble wifhes dare not feck, Would but my fpoufe enfure her health Six hours, at leaft, in every week* C 199 ] ON HARD DRINKTIRX IF you who hear this deathlefs ode, Where Pindar glows in every line, At midnight never range abroad y To foak the effence of the vine ; No goat (hall ever rack your toes, Nor lamp pod bounce againft your nofe. Nor mall you to the bagnio roam, Nor on the roundhoufe run afliore, Nor plunging through the kennel home Kick your dependents to the door ; Nor {hall your brains at breakfaft ache, Nor mall your nerves at thirty {hake. Had Noah when his box was landed, Inflead of bidding bumpers flow, Behav'd as common fenfe demanded And taught his fons to weave and plow j. Their father had not turn'd their jeft, friit doz'd with decency at leaft. Had this old tar been truly wife, And burn'd his poifonous plantation, One root of almoft every vice Which fills the world with devaftatlon, Perhaps he might have liv'd to fee, Ham had a founder head than he. A FRAGMENT. THERE liv'd, in former days, an honeft man, Who did not figure on our modifli plan ; His coat was homely, but his credit found, He paid with twenty {hillings in the pound. 500 HORACE, LIB. I. OPE XXVII. He managed what had been his father's farm, No currifh landlord could his peace alarm ; An hearty welcome made the ftranger glad, For Hunger never wanted what he had. He did not, like the wits of later days, Confume his time on magazines and plays, But fancy'd every minute worth his care, Methufalem, he faid, had few to fpare. And if, at eve, he felt a wifh to read, Ifaiah, Job, and Mofes, lin'd his head; Strong common fenfe from Solomon he drew, And at the ninetieth reading found him. new. When Jofeph and his worthy kin were met, His foul too, foften'd, and his cheeks were wet j He felt a kind of pleafure in his grief, While the tears gufhing gave his heart relief. Ruth's tender tale was often on his tongue, And pleas'd in age, as it had pleas'd him young. On myftic points he did not much inquire, Nor pertly dar'd defy eternal fire. Truths out of kenn the goodman let alone, Nor thought it ever meantthatall things mould be known. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXVII. WHT mould my friends when they're drunk, Make fuch a terrible noife ! Will gentlemen brawl like a punk Pelted with dirt by the boys. When valets convene in a cellar, Dividing their vails over gin ; If the landlady's pert, they may tell her, The liquor is dear of a pin. They may batter her bottom pell mell. Kick up a faudsdous pother] FAHALLEL BETWEEN RICHES AND POVERTY. 2Or And finifli the farce very well, With pounding the bones of each other. When members have met in the boufe, Our national honour to fave, They're heartily welcome to choufe, Each patriot in turn as a knave. But when men of fafhion agree, To pafs in good humour a night ; The rabble would blufli, did they fee Their betters beginning to fight. A PARALLEL BETWEEN RICHES AND POVERTY. FROM THE GREEK OF RHIANUS. Aj ancient bard had rcafon to complain, That all mankind are ignorant and vain ; Nor in profperity their pride reprefs, , Nor with calm dignity fupport diftrefs ; To thofe below them with contempt behave, To thofe above them aft the downright flave* Thus, he who is in want of daily food, Feels no bold courage animate his blood ;. Nature to him no beauties can difplay, He curfes fate and fhuns the light of day. The rich, in public, tell aloud their mind, The poor, in fervile filence, flink behind. " Chill Penury" each generous thought controuls^ And freezes all the ardour of their fouls. Nor mould we rail at the corrupted times, 'Tis Poverty which fills the world with crimes ^ For very few begin to rob or fteal, Till once they've fear'd Uie want of many a meaL, If halters only for the rich were made, Ketch foon might ftarve, or feek a better trade ; His office merely keeps poor rogues in awe, For great men's crimes are fanftified by law. To what I fay, exceptions will be found ; But 'tis a common cafe the world around. The great adopt a furer, fafer courfe, They neither break a fliop nor fteal a horfe j They feldom pick a purfe, or forge a note, Or point a piftol at a coachman's throat. Yet all to vice are equally inclin'd, Their mifdemeanours vary but in kind; The poor dare only cheat, vhe rich opprefs, The firft muft hide, the laft avow fuccefs j The blufliing footpad plunders in the night, The noble felon dares the noon-day light. And fure of mortals, the moft foolifh thing, Is, for the moft part, what we call a king ; Vile fycophants, devoted to his will, Define his right to conquer and to kill ; And fome poltroon, who, bred among the poor, Had fcarce dar'd thruft a vixen from his door - r Commits whole empires to the fword and flame, Dreaming deftruction dignifies a name. But inftant vengeance treads upon his heel, And all his pride inflicted makes him feel. Survey that clafs with an impartial eye, How few have died as wife men wifli to die ; Though fools may deem the day of vengeance paft, Guilt in repentance, always ends at laft. NOTHING NEW. UNHAPPY is the bard who fighs For folid friendship with the great, Since every effort which he tries Will prove his plan a bitter cheat,. REMARKS 0^ EMINENT HISTORIANS. 20J By a long furfeit of fucccfs, The heart grows hard, the fancy light, And all approaches of diftrefs, Derange the vifion of delight. In vain your eloquence would plead, No words the fordid foul can alter ; 'Tis better far to beg your bread, Or make your exit in a halter. CRITICAL REMARKS ON SOME OF THE MOST EMINENT HISTORIANS OF ENGLAND. THOUGH we are now in the clofe of the eighteenth cen- tury, the hiftory of this ifland has never been fludied with proper attention. That portion of it, in particular, which precedes the Reformation, feems, at prefent, buried in profound negledU For this misfortune, fufficient reafons may be afligned ; an hundred and fifty years were wafted in theological frenzy, or in defeating the tyranny of the houfe of Stuart; and a modern compiler of general hif- tory is ftrongly tempted to rufh with precipitation over the remoter periods, and to referve his abilities and re- fearch for thofe later fcenes, in which a reader of the pre- fent day is more heartily interefted. On fome of thefc modern authors, a few candid obferrations may repay a perufal. The name of RAPIN is now almoft forgotten ; and Mr. Hume, in the end of his Englifli Hiftory, has branded him as an author " the moft defpicable both in ftyle and mat- ter." The cenfure is invidious, and unjuft : His work contains an immenfe multitude of interefling circumftan- ces, wholly omitted by the Scottifti author. From his perfonal fituation, a claffical compofition was not to be expected. He wrote a more complete General Hiftory of England, than had ever appeared in this country ; and whatever be his faults, it would be ungenerous to deny his uncommon merit. 804 KEMARKS ON EMINENT HISTORIANS, SALMON made an eflay'on the fame fubjed. Though ihort^ it contains much information, which is not to bt found in more voluminous hiftorians of England. His own refle&ions are brief, lively, and fenfible. It is u- fual to reprefent Richard III. as deformed and decrepid; yet thefe very authors inform us, that he unhorfed and kil- led with his own hand the ftandard-bearer of Henry VII. who was reputed to be the ftrongeft knight in the rebel army. The inconfiftency of thefe two ftories is pointed out by Salmon. He has left behind him no work of very fuperior value, yet he muft have been an author of fupe- rior abilities ; for, without becoming tirefome, he has written more than mofl of us have read. The fame remarks apply with equal juftice to Dr. SMOL- LET. The immenfe bulk of his writings proves that he compofed with greater facility than ordinary men are able to converfe. By his own account, in the expedition oi Humphry Clinker, it appears that he very often wrote merely for wages ; and on fuch occafions, nothing above mediocrity can with reafon be demanded. The continu- ation of his Englifh Hiftory, r from 1748 to 1764, is a mere catchpenny chaos, without even a fpark of merit. There is great reafon to believe that he, or rather his journey- men, copied at random from fomebody elfe, mofl of the quotations and references arranged with fo much parade on the margin of his text. GUTHRIE has left behind him more than one ponder, ous fabric on Britifh hiftory. He had fenfe, learning, candour, and induflry. He had an original manner, and wifhed to think for himfelf : But to elegance, he was an entire flranger, and to that happy choice of circumflances which forms an inftructive hiftorian ; he was often fa- miliar without perfpicuity, and prolix without complete- nefs. No writer is at prefent lefs popular. A geogra- phical grammar has been printed under his name ; but it is generally underflood, that he had no mare in its com- pofition. In point of flyle, Mr. HUME may be fiudied as a per- KCMAtiKS ON EMINENT HISTORIANS. 1J foil "model. Pure, nervous, eloquent, he is fimple with- out wtaknefs, and fublime without effort. In the art of telling an humorous ftory, he can never be excelled ; and when he chofe to exert himfelf, he was even a confider- able mafler of the pathetic : But it was his misfortune to defpifc accuracy of refearch, and fidelity of citation. He was a bitter Tory ; and while jjete&ion flawed in his face, lie commonly adhered to whatever he had once written. "His account of the houfe of Stuart is not the ftatement of aji hiftorian, but the memorial of a pleader in a Court of Juftice. He fometimes afferts a pofitive untruth, contra- dicted by the very author whom he pretends himfelf to be quoting ; but more commonly gains his purpofe, by fup- prefling the whole evidence on the oppofite fide of the queftion. His conduct in the controverfy with Mr. Tyt- Icr, can hardly be defended: And his injurious treatment of Queen Mary of Scotland rs not more difgufting than Ivis farcical panegyrics on the virtues of her pofterity. When we examine Mrs. Macaulay's performance on the fame period, we meet with a profufion of inter-efling in- telligence, of which the mere reader of Hume has not the njoft diflant conception. The Scottifh hiftorian gives but fhort and partial excerpts from the writers of the times. His female antagonift, on the other hand, gives large ex- tracts from the original writers ; and though to a fuper- ficial eye, her work afliimes an air lefs pleating and claffical, what is loft in elegance is fully repaid in authen- ticity. He is a Eealous advocate for the ceremonies of the Church of England. He cenfures thofe brave and able men who refifted and defeated her -ufurpations ; and to whom we are, at this day, indebted for our liberties. He attempts to prove, that Epifcopacy is preferable to Prefbyterianifm, and that Laud may be vindicated for pcrfecuting the diiTenters. Had Mr. Hume been ferious in this opinion, he might have deferved an anfwer. But on turning over to his Effays, we are furprifed by the moft ftupendous and unblufbing contradiction. One chief end of his metaphyftcal writings is to ejctingwft S 2O6 REMARKS ON EMINENT HISTORIANS. every fentiinent of religion. The fame Court, therefore, which fent Baflwick and Prynne to the pillory, would, vith far lefs injuftice, have fent our hiftorian himfelf to a more, decided Jltuation. What are we to think of a profefied infidel defending the barbarous infolencc of the prieflhood ? f Mr. Hume has exprefled much indignation at that me- morable acl of juflice, the execution of Charles t. His two elder fqns ought tojiave fhared the fame fate. Their annals are diftinguifhed b^ endlefs ufurpations, plots, re- bellions, and maflacres ; by -two foreign wars, and a re- volution. We cannot but obferve with the honeft Dutch- man, that their predcceffor u was quite another man." Had Cromwell furvived but for ten years longer, we Ihould have heard no more about the poflerity of " The HoJy Martyr." James I. butchered Sir Walter Raleigh, without the form of a trial. Mr. Hume tells us that, this meafure lt was eflcemed an inftance of the utmoft cruelty and in- juflice ;" and his vindication of James is one of the mofl elaborate paffages in his whole work. The bed of his ar- guments appears to be, u that no jury would have found Raleigh guilty 1" At the fentence of Lord Bacon, Mr. Hume adds, that James " conferred on him a large pen {ion of eighteen hundred pounds a-year, and employed every expedient to alleviate the weight of his age and misfortunes." This penfion would have been equivalent to fix or eight thou- fand pounds Sterling at the prefent day: And as hisMa- jefly had nothing of his own, it mufl have been transfer- red from the pockets of his fubjects. The tran faction at befl could have but refembled an apprentice interfering with his mailer's till; a ccunparifoii which applies to mofl other examples of royal munificence. But the fact is, that Bacon, from the time of his fentence, lived as he died, in ben ar y. O" tl " 3 point, the reader may confult Mrs. Macaulay and her authorities. Mr. Hume has canted much about the death of Straf- REMARKS ON EMINENT HISTORIANS. 207 ford, and claims the merit of having med fome " gene- rous tears" on that fubjedt. All that he fays, put toge- ther, is not worth a fingle expreifion of honeft Pym. When Strafford, then a leader of Oppofition, for the fake of a place at Court, deferted the public caufe ; u you have left us," faid Pym, " but we (hall not leave YOU while your head is on your ihoulders," and lie kept his word. No part of our hiftorian's performance has been more controverted, than that relative to Queen Mary. Per- haps the next age may confider her conduct in a light e- qually- different from her prefent accufers and her apolo- gifts. I would meet the former on their own ground, and franldy reply, that the brutal infolence of Darnly to his wise, his fovereign, his benefactrefs, deferved ten -deaths ; ami that Mary,, if connected with the conspirators, was at worfl,. but an executioner of juftice. If fhe wanted to dcpoi'e and deftroy Elizabeth, flill the ruin of her coun- try, the maiTacre of her friends, the lofs of her kingdom, hur liberty, and her child, juftiiied her revenge. Let us, for example, fuppcrfc that Mr, Hume had been confined in one of the dungeons of the Holy OiHce at Lifbon, and that he had obtained a chance of efcaping. yery<, Would he have refilled freedom, for fear of injuring the inquiQtor who arrefted him ? Surely he could not have fcrupled at knocking out the brains of the whole frater- nity ? Many modern hiflorians, and among others, Mr. Hume, have fallen into the practice of quaint wiredrawn portraits. The virtues and-literary genius of James I. for intlance^ are expanded by our author into a quarto page, which can be regarded but as wafte paper. As a- man of tafte, Mr. Hume is often extremely fingular. He affirms that Shakefpeare " was totally ignorant of all the- atrical art and conduct ; that it is in vain we look either for continued purity, or fiuiplicity of diclion ; and that he cannot for any time uphold a reafonable propriety of thought." There is much more to the fame purpofe. - Mr. Hume, in common with moft of our hiftorions, has omitted to give an account of his materials. A judicious Sij aol JIEJCARKS QN EMINENT HISTORIANS. Deader, when he fees them perpetually referred to, will afk who is Froiffart, and who is Rhymer? Till the ac- ceffion of the houfe of Tudor, lua narrative is abrupt. For example, the reign of Edward III. extended to almoft half a century, and is one of the raofl bufy and memor- able in ancient or modern annals. It is comprefled by Mr. Hume within an hundred o&avo pages, while the reign of Elizabeth alone fills one of his largefl volumes. His warmefl admirers muft allow, that he betrays a wide 1 disproportion of parts in the execution of his plan : But m truth, it was by far too extenfrve to be completed by any Cngle pen. It was neceflary to write a book of a faleable fize. As an epitome of Englifh Hiflory, it is too- large ; but as a complete hiflory, it is by far too fhort. "We often fee whole folios- printed on the antiquities of a fingle town, or a fingle country pari-fh. Whj then mould we think it tirefome to read twenty or thirty volumes on the national hiftory of our anceflors ? Mr. Hume, like many men of eminence, has performed too little, by at- tempting to perform too much ; yet his writings afford univerfal and Jafling pleafure. The diiiindnefs of his planner, and the acutenefs or plauflbility of his general cbfervations, caft a veil over the errors and deficiencies cf his narrative. On the ancient hiflory of England, few writers have thrown more light than the famous FROISSART. His chro- nicle commences with the acceflion of Edward III. and ends with the death of Richard II containing a period of feventy-three years. Like almoft every other writer, he. fcas numerous and obvious imperfections. But what Plu- tarch has remarked of a paflage in Xenophon, may with equal juflice be applied to this author. FroiiTart does not defcribe a march, a battle, a fiege, or a purfait, but he places them before our eyes. By the firft ftroke of his iirtlefs, yet magic pen, we are tranfported into the tu- rault of adion, and forward to forget that \ve continue in the clofet. He has not indeed attempted the higher walks: fci' eloquence. He is neitlier a. Thucydidc; nor a SallufV REMARKS ON EMIXEXT HISTORIANS. 2Og nor docs he difplay the judgment and accuracy of PoJy- bius ; but he deferves to be termed the Xenophon of his age. Replete with materials, it is true that he has in- ferted a multiplicity of particulars, which are no longer interefting at the distance of four centuries. But vvhere- ever his fubje6l rifes equal to his abilities, full, without, redundancy, intelligent and inftruftive, without oftenta- tion, he charms us by that pathetic ftmplicity of manner,, that minute but happy felection of circumflances, which, animates the page of the admired Athenian. Nor is it the leaf! honourable part of his praife, that he appears to have been entirely diverted of national and of perfonal prejudice, and that without any veftige of parade or af- fectation, he frequently difcovers the traces of a feeling heart. The candid reader will forgive this tribute of refpedl. While hourly opprefled with a frefh multitude of infipid compilations from compilations, we are in the moft feri- ous danger of forgetting the very exiAence of thofe inef- timable writers from whom our whole fources of informa- tion are originally derived. 'Of the many Ship-loads of treatifes on Roman affairs, which Englifh, and ftill more, French idleness has dragged into light, a numberlefs ma- jority make not the mofl diftant approaches to claffical merit ; and yet of the greater part of Greek and Roman hiftorians, an entire and decent translation will be fought for in vain in either language. After fuch mournful evi- dence of our Stupidity, it is hopelefs to add, that an accu- rate verfion of Froiflart would be an important acquisition- to the literary world.- His memoirs exhibit a beautiful portion of feudal hif- tory ; and a liberal mind will obferve with peculiar plea- fure, that they are not deformed by the madnefs of theo- logical rancour. They do not exhibit the horrid farce of nations exterminating each other for antiquated fyftems of faith, in the wildeft degree abfurd, or abfolutely un- intelligible. This venerable veteran was not to difguSl us by the detail of controversies and of martyrdoms, whene learning is frivolity, and fortitude at befl but the frenzy iij 2-IO HORACE, LIB. V. EPODE XV. of ignorance ; nor were a cock-fight and a card-table, a mafquerade and n horfe-race, to limit the amufements and ambition of a brave and proud nobility. The Black Prince never condefcended to become arbiter in the quar- rels of a band of jockies, of fiddlers, or of ftage dancers.* Neither his father nor his fellow-foldiers would have ad- mired his magnanimity. Glowing with the moft exalted ientiments of perfonal independence and heroic fame, it was to vindicate the importance of his family, or the beauty of his miflrefs, that the knight couched his lance, and ruflied into the field. The rough, but manly fea- tures of the foul, difplayed an interefling dignity : The paffions blazed into their wildeft effort ; and though rea- fon and humanity cannot always approve, the tear of fenfibility attefts that we admire. HORACE, LIB. V. EPODE XV. TWAS night ; the filent moon fhone clear Amid the ftarry fkies, When you, my love, prefum'dto fvvear By Jove whom you defpife. * Beccaria tells us, that it was lately the cuftom for Italian fearbers to write upon the fign above their fhop doors, " Boy gelded here in the neateft manner." On reading this, we ra(h- ly infer, that fuch artifts muft be the very dregs of mankind. But, thofe who encourage the pradlice are certainly far more ulpable. We are juft now [January 1791,] informed by the daily pa- pers, that there has been a numerous meeting of our nobility, at London, with a Prince at their head, to confult about rebuilding the Opera Houfe, and that an hundred thoufand pounds will be wanted. It would be in vain to remind fuch people, of the fuperior propriety of paying off their tradefmen, or of abating a year's rent to a diftreffed tenant. A Roman fenate, aflembling to deliberate about the cookery of Domitian's mullet, f formed * lefs prominent objeft of ridicule, f Sec Juvenal, Sat. IV, THE PROGRESS OF MERIT. , And while my charming trait'refs fpoke, Her arms enclosed me round, As we have feen the folid oak By twining ivy bound. You promised, while the wolf mould tear The tender lambs away ; While failors, through the main mould fleer, My raptures to repay. But now, my faithlefs fair, believe, Horace mall ad the man ; Nor will he, for your coynefs grieve, But ilrike a bolder plan. Addrefs fome fair ingenuous girl, From pride and falfehood free ; And when your fancy takes a whirl And drives you back to me : For well I know your prefent fwain Shall foon your coldnefs mourn ; Then will I, heedlefs of your pain, Be merry in my turn. THE PROGRESS OF MERIT. WHEN nature, clapping up in hafle a head, For want of brain, pours in a pound of lead ; When learning cannot pierce the folid fcull, And lady mother owns her darling dull, Though creeping prudence his repute may favc, 'Tis two to one, the blockhead is a knave. The paltry rotten thing he calls his heart, Would fain fupply the want of fenfe with art; And fuch a man has far the faired chance In fortune's flippery turnpike to advance. 2fZ THE PROGRESS OF MERIT. The dunce who dbats on antiquated rules Enfures applaufe from all the mob of fools ; For every folemn afs helps on his brother, Like mites- in cheefe, they crowd by one another. If you, kind Sir, diflent from what I fay, For one lax moment liften to my lay ; Perhaps the mufe your wifdom will perfuade That merit's wrong'd in almoft every trade^- That excellence fupreme is oft a curfe ; The conclave hardly could have coin'd a worfe. When fate has gifted fome fuperior mind With fenfe above the rabble of mankind, If genius in the caufe of truth engage y And ftrike at error fanilified by age 7 "With fearlefs eye wide nature's field explore,- And fhew how little folly faw before, And boldly charge the reigning fons of art, With the rafh ardour of an honeft heart, From every fide the trump of (lander's blown, And the whole herd of pedants hunt him do\vn : Into broad day each trivial error's brought, While dulnefs fhudders at a daring thought : On merit's head their inean revenue is hurl'd, And what can one man do againfl a world? The youth who labours to acquire a name, Muft never feek a pure bye-path to fame ; For inftance, fhould he traffick in the laws, His pen muft vindicate the vileft caufe. His tongue rr.ufl learn to wrangle and dlfpute, Where every common rafta! would be mute; That white is black, and black is white, he feeSj Conviction always rifmg with his fees. And as a bawd hires out her fiend-like train, The bafer fophift proflitutes his brain ; For every knave fays all which can be faid, Nor blufhei to exult in fuch a trade ; In mort, a counfellor can feldom rife, Who truth or falfehood fcruples to dif^uifc. THE PROGnESS OF MERIT; 2JJ K"or can the flip-flop faculty proclaim That candour always points their path to fame. When fome poor man who ftrives to force his way, Through this fine world on fifteen pence a day, Who fees ten healthy brats about his board, For whom he's envied by fome heirlefs lord, By heavy labour, and by fcanty food, Has loofen'd all his nerves and thinn'd his blood, When the fierce fever flops his fcanty pay, And makes the crumbling tenement of clay ; When all the father wrings his foul with feaf, And the fond hufband foftens in a tear; His ancient rules the fcxton's friend pbferves, Hefweats, cups, bathes, bleeds, bllfters, purges, flarves.i Secundum artem all his rage he vents, And half his gallipots, are eas'd of their contents. A ring of females babble out his praife, And watch his eye, and lick up all he fays. 41 I cannot promife ; but pray hope the beft, " With water-gruel try to cram his cheft. " There's too much vigour in the patient's veins ;" Then makes his head, but cannot (hake his brains. And oft when men of more than common fkill, Who fcorn alike the julep and the pill ; Who but a tragic farce believe their trade, Who dare not choofe to poifon and be paid ; When fuch men fmiling, at difcordant rules, Rejec~l the trafh they fwallow'd in the fchools ; Kor with vile drugs the patient's paunch diftort, But, fure that hunger muft require fupport, On wholefome victuals roundly bid him dine, And brace the fyftem with untainted wine; The folemn homicides foon bear him down, Ten thoufand falfehoods 11 the trembling town;. And fages fent to fave the human race Reap the reward of danger and difgrace. The toils of Sydenham and Harvey read, What clouds of darknefs burfl on either head 214 THE PROGRESS OF MERIT. The rifing fun of fcience was o'ercaft, But truth, though flowly, may prevail at la ft. An honeft parfon", let him do his beft, Can hardly fail of cenfure from the reft. Thus, when great Conyers* tore the veil afide, Expos'd the bloody progrefs of their pride, And markM what dj-eadful miichief they had done That this poor world no blacker curfe had known ; An hoft of maniacs rofe in Heaven's defence, And all affaij'd the page of common fenfe. What, though in argument the gown-man fail, One certain road to conqueft is to rail : The modern faint muft labour to afcend, By twining texts to ferve his party's end; Firft of the van, the holy champion flies, And loudly tells each melhodift he lies ; That Satan long has panted for his fcul, And ne'er receiv'd a felon half fo fcul ; That the Great Judge of- nature will rejoice To hear the damn'd fend up a doleful noife; That rigid juftice in the pit below For want of faith infiifts eternal woe; That fmoking brimftone fills each Quaker's nofe, And guilt forbids Socinians to repofe.- Had thrice five hundred of that bawling tribe. Whom not even mitres into peace can bribe ; Who fire mankind to fight for empty names,. And preach up Jove, and fct the world in flames; Had they defc.ended with the Rcyal George We had been too well eas'd of fuch a fcourge. Behold his fate who by plain merit tries In phyfic or divinity to rife. The faculty muft kill, the clergy damn, Left the pert vulgar vow their trades a mam. * The Reverend Dr. Conyers Middleton, the celebrated libra- rian of Cambridge ; a man who deferves to be entitled the Shake-. ipeare of theologians. THE PROGRESS OF MERIT. 21 $ And many a worthy man we mny believe, Whofe conference can't become an arrant fieve, Who fcorns with polemicks to plague his head, Nor pores on Gelfus, but in fcarch of bread, "With honeft anguifh a&s the parfon's part, And deals cathartics with a trembling heart. Attorneys who adhere to common fenfe, Who fcorn to fcribble in a rogue 1 ? defence, Who are without a tribe the poor man's friend, The public tafte are certain to offend : A crowd of clients cannot hope to fee, Nor twice a term to touch a handfome fee; Though Chatham's genius from the tomb mould ftart, To teach them all the magic of his art. And though fame parafite may chance to rife, : Like Boileau, by reciting fervile lies, The pupils of Apollo, 'tis confeft, Are almofl all but beggars at the beft. Thus Jaffier's father faw his morfcl fail, And Taffo ran diftrafted in a jail. Dryden did fomething worfe than beg his bread, And Spenfer figh'd to (lumber with the dead. Butler, poor man ! fupported life with pain, \Vhile Cha-tterton renounc'd ft with difdain. The long fucceeding numbers who can name, But all were fick of hunger and of fame. Though men of tafle may liften to his lays, And fools fatigue him with infipid praife } No brother of the quill will condefcend To be the poet's, ftrahger's, young man's friend. Their cold hearts cannot give eflential aid, They dare not afk him if his dinner's paid. His little wants no critic fhall fupply, His patrons pity, praife, and let him die. ( 216 ) HORACE, LIB. IV. ODE IX, Am> fo, you fancy all the rhymes Your friend fo fondly would recite. Will neither pleafe the prefent times, Nor give poflerity delight ? You fay that Shakefpeare has attained The boldeft height of claflic praife, And every bard {hall be difdain'd Who cannot emulate his lays,: But, though his fearlefs flam excells The pompous elegance of Rowe, When Shore her tender flory tells, We feel our tears begin to flow ; Though Zara force not awful wonder, Like Profpero's enchanted ifle, When Congreve's Ben begins to blunder, Can gravity forbear to fmile ? Though Butler offers no pretence, Or to the tender, or fublime, Yet, what a blaze of wit and fenfe Burfts through the rubbifh of his rhyme I And thus, though Swift could ne'er pretend To paint the ravings of a Lear, Yet when the Dean predicts his end, The proudefl Cynic fteals a tear : For every word Old Wagflaflffays Defcribes him in a light fo true, That, with one general burft of praife^ We give the Drapier all his due : -Nor mould you damn one all at once For eking fome infipid pages, ON IDLENESS. Though Fathom's father feems a dunce Tom Bowling fhall endure for ages : Though Dryden's farces be forgot, How fweet Cecilia's numbers roll I And Otway woeful nonfenfe wrote, But ilill Monimia melts the foul. ON IDLENESS : FROM THE FIRST BOOK Of SPEXCER's FAIRY QUEEN'. THE chariot of the queen f now mov'd along, With fix poftilions, a flrange motely throng. The mafler-groom was mounted on an afs, And flow the beafl, and flow the rider was ; His looks betray'd the dulnefs of his foul, His clothes were fhabby and his fhirt was foul. His {lockings folding down his ancles hung, From a capacious mouth lolTd out his tongue. The lols of buttons kept his bofom bare, His eyes flood fixed in a vacant flare. His only pouch, his cards and dice preferv'd, His fpoufe had broke her heart, his children flarv'd. Left by his father with a large eflate, His folly foon had forc'd the frowns of Fate ; If want of care can rank us with the bleft,^- He of all mortals happinefs poffefl. Refledlion never wrung his heart with pain, Nor flirrM the flartding puddle of his brain j From danger of a jail though never free, Surety for all who fought his help was he. His poorefl friend had lent him more or lefs, For every day prcduc'd fome new diflrefs ; f The Poet is defcribing the chariot of Pride ; and Idlenef*, Gluttonj, Avarice, &c. are perfonified as her poftilions. T Jl8 OX WRANGLING. When tradefmen bawl'd, he hufli'd them with a fong, Nor guefs'd if their demands were right or wrong. And when his breeches got an hundredth rent, He laugh'd to fee his taylor's patience fpent. Nor health in early walks the floven fought, Nor knew the nobler exercife of thought ; By day he flroll'd the current lie to hear, And loung'd, and gam'd, and read the gazetteer. And when the lifllefs day began to clofe, With brother vagrants, foak'd his ev'ning dofe. He never went to fleep till twelve at night, Nor twice in twenty years rofe with the riling light, But always eat his breakfaft in his bed, Unlefs compelled to fleal before he fed. The want of toil his ufelefs nerves unbrac'd, And purfe, and perfon, funk with equal hafle ; The dream of reformation died in words, That precious fruit which Idlenefs affords. ON WRANGLING. SOME filly fellows have a way Of contradifling all you fay ; And feem to fancy converfation Invented but for difputation. As pufs, with brifk erec~led ears, A fcratch behind thewainfcot hears; So thefe are always on the watch, Your flightefl flip with triumph catch; And mould you venture a defence, Deplore your want of common fenfc. uch vipers, (for they cannot claim A kinder, or a better name,) Betray, in fpite of all their art, A mallow head, a worthlefs heart. Six ferious words are juft enough, To anfwer all their faucy ftufif. A DREAM. 2I *' That's your opinion, 'tis not mine," And thus the combat yeu decline. To them, and all mankind, be civil, But fly them as you'd fly the devil. If e'er you dare to take a wife, And wifh to flmn eternal ftrife, Seek one who never fhall prefume, To flart a paradox from Hume. Ten thoufand quibbles he contains, Fit only to confound her brains. Nor let her learn to talk by rule,- Nor reafon [till fhe turns a fool ; Nor ever quote a pointed phrafe, Nor quit her wheel to pore on plays.' Teach her, and cite the holy Paul, That fpinfters never ought to brawl ; That filence proves her manly fpirit, And prompt obedience forms her merit. A DREAM : FEOM THE LATIN OF BUCHANAN. - THE morning ftar had fhed his parting ray, The dawn's gray fmile announc'd approaching day i The fwain began his endlefs toil to curie, The wakefome bantling battled with its nurfe. Smoke from the chimney top eflay'd to rife, The lark melodious warbled up the ikies ; The barn-yard cock led down his female train, The rooks Embodied pour'd acrofs the plain. Rats from the cupboard hafted to retire, And curs and cats throng'd round each kitchen fire. My careful fpoufe the curtain-ledture clos'd, With folemn wonder why her fervants doz'd ; As if invaded by ten thoufand fleas, Or china crack'd had robb'd her foul of eafe, Or fome fhrewd fifter wrong'd her of a groat ; Or bought perhaps too fine a petticoat, 22O A DREAM. From my embraces to the floor fhe fprung And the whole houfe with wholefome proverbs rung. Not half fo loudly, when he fears a wreck, The furly boatfwain pipes all hands on deck, When darknefs hides the deep, the rigging rends, The pumps are choaking, and the hull defcends, The pilot headlong from the rudder's thrown, And all the raging ocean rumes down, Myfelf more lazy, lay awake a bed, When fudden heavy (lumber feiz'd my head, And, all at once, before my frighten'd eyes, The father of Francifcans feem'd to rife. His waift was bound, as ufual, with a cord, His back, the abfence of a ftiirt deplorVlj; A cowl ccnceal'd his clofely fhaven crown, And o'er his brawny moulders flow'd a gown. His rofy cheeks, and his round bulky cheft, Proclaim'd the fymptoms of a mind at reft. In his right hand a crucifix he bore, And in the left, a drefs like that he wore. My joints, and every finew (hook with fear, When thus the facred leeoh addrefs'd me with a fneer. *' No more let midnight rambles wrong your health ; " Refign, dear George, the rafti purfuit of wealth, " From reafon's impious eminence defcend, " And through the quagmire faith your footfteps bend. " Fear, hope, and grief, and joy, alike are vain, " The warmeft pleafure terminates in pain. " This foolifti world no profpec~l can difplay, t; For which the wife lofe would a (ingle day; " Accept our garb, celeftial cares attend, " Chant, hymns, count beads, and at our altars bend." My courage rallied while the phantom fpoke, And thus on his harangue, I boldly broke : " Let others vaunt their fortitude efface, " My carelefs temper fhudders at grimace. Whatever fortune proffers, good or ill, 41 My thoughts^ I always told, and always will. OK THE ABUSE OF TIME. 2Z| 41 The novice, who prefumes to fill your gown, 44 Mufl caft his freedom and his confcience down. * 4 Let thofe Hetefted hypocrites who can, 44 Abjure the generous feelings of a man, 4 Force from their cheeks the honefl blufh of youth, '"'" And tell us they promote the caufe of truth: *' That to perdition we muft all be driven, " Unlefs impoflors point tlie way to heaven. 44 Go bid old women croke your ftupid hymns, 4t Shall I in dirty fackcloth wrap my limbs, 44 And like a favage madman wafle my days ? 44 Can bedlam propagate our Maker's praife? * 4 Gould paradife be gain'd by this pretence, 44 I'd frankly dare the worft, with men of fenfe. * 4 Whatever of falvation you declare, u 'Tis fcldom that a monk obtains 3 mare. 44 Bifhops, indeed, are jolly honeft fellows, 44 Keepdoxiesof theirown, nor drive old fumblersjealousj 44 On pimps and parafites their bounty pour, 44 Nor quaff their Bourdeaux with a grin fo four. " But leaving fanaticks to cant and pray, 44 They game and wench allnight, andgormandize all day. 44 Referve the gown, you value as a prize, " Till fome more hungry candidate arifc 44 I'm no knight errant of eternal blii's, 44 Nor mail for the next world torment myfelf in this. 44 Yet, if you wifh me happinefs divine, 44 Mark what ElyCum I prefer as mine. 44 Gf fome rich mitre, conflitute me lord ; 44 Your belly mall be cramm'd for ever at my board." ON THE ABUSE OF TIME. vV E always find fo quick the moments run, That life is ended ere 'tis well begun. The bubble Hope is bought with fo much pain, That few wife men would wiih to live again. Tiij 112 ON THR ABUSE OF TIME. The dulleft mortal breathing ought to kno\r y We're only in probation here below ; And former hours, in vice or folly paft, How folemn, and how terrible, the laft. Yet fpite of all region can reveal, And all conviction forces us to feel, How vile an ufe do many make of time, How frequent, how deplorable the crime ! The early hunter rufhes to the chafe, What brutal joy is painted in his face, When fifty half-ftaiVd dogs with open throat, Hum on a hare that's hardly worth a groat ? Some give their nights, and wifh to give their dayg^ To hear unletter'd vagrants mangle plays } Deform the fcene pathetic Otway drew, Andfpout in Shakefpeare's name, the tram henever knew. From galleries, and pit, applaufe is roar'd, While common fenfe turns pale at every word. See how yon foakers pufh the glafs about, And forfeit half their lives to gain the gout, On fober Prudence break each vulgar jefl 7 And all the man is buried in the bead, A Danifli doit,* a Patagonian flower, JDemolifh oft an academic hour. The lift of human whimfles is fo loag, To tell the tithe would tire a Frenchman's tongue ; Let all defend their foibles as they pleafe, Exiflence was not lent for ends like thefe ; No race, no cock-pit, their ambition fir'd, When Phocion and Pelopidas expir'd. Far other pleafures all their thoughts employ, Superior fallies of untainted joy ; Who rifle the remains of Greece and Rome, And trace in ages paft, the fate of thofe to come ; ^ Twenty-fix quarto pages, befides feveral prints, have been expended upon " the PENNY with tho name of Rodbertu* IV." See Archzologia, Vol. V. p. 390. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXIX* 223 Who to the toil of thinking dare fubmit, Drink the rich flream of Smollet's fearlefs wit; Revere in Swift, the wonder of his age, And love and fludy Gay's facetious page ; A few like thefe, would partly fill the void Of thofe Tertullian's difciples deflroy'd. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXIX. I WONDER, Harry, what delight You feel in feeing rafcals fight ; Or how poor mortals dare be proud, Of daily fhedding fo much blood. The beft excufe that can be made, For fuch a vile, inhuman trade, Is, when a man of virtue draws His patriot fword, in Freedom's caufe ; But who can give a right to you To ravage Bengal or Peru ? The hunter calls, the blood-hounds fly, And guihlefs millions are to die. Our hirelings, give me leave to fay, Fight not for principle, but pay. Ruffians, impatient of repofe, For what have they to gain or lofc ? And tell me, when the'war is ended, Can they fuppofe their fortunes mended ? They flill muft pay their pot of ale, Or fee, full foon, their liquor fail. The bcardlefs enfign makes his cane, And they mufl bear the beau's difdain. But let the bully dare a ftroke, Or hazard one infulting joke, On fome poor man who toils for bread, The clown will break the coxcomb's head. What, for fo many thoufand years, Has fiH'd the world with blood and tears, 224 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXIX* But refllefs bedlamites, like you, Who fcorn'd to fettle at the plow ? The black record of ancient times Is full of nothing but their crimes ; The rank they bear in modern days Can add but little to their praife ; By whom was Corfica oppreft ? A herd of cut-throats at the beft j Pizarro did no more than you Pradlife upon the poor Gentoo. And who, alas ! will now deny That Tiber's bed may foon be dry, That muddy Nile may backwards flo\\ r T And boiling .5Ltna vomit fnow ; Since you, a man of fenfe and thought, "Who fuch a world of books had bought, Forfake felicity at home, And all the wits of Greece and Rome, To ramble round this wretched globe, To burn, and butcher, fleal, and rob. 'Tis thus the royal forces ac~l, (Let Impudence deny the fa& ;) Our beggar'd loyal ifts can fay What fums your Tartars made them pay j And when Culloden's glorious field, Had forc'd ill-fated Charles to yield ; Who but the Devil would have done, What they did, when the day was won ? "What is, in fhort, a volunteer ? Five words will make the matter clear ; A lazy lounger who engages, For ten times lefs than hangmen's wages, In fpite of Nature's plaineft law, To murder men he never faw ; And thus he proves his public fpirit, What worth fuch heroes mull inherit J Since Ifrael, by divine command, - Set out to clear the promis'd land ; HOEACE, LIB. I. ODE XXXIII. 22 J With fpecial orders not to pity, But raze or burn each impious city, Pound every pregnant mother's bones, And dam her infants on the ftones, Though war has ne'er again his forehead Infcrib'd with characters fo horrid, Through all the feats of Rome and Greece, The tale is always of a piece. The lufl for pillage, rapine, blood, Was ardour for the public good ; But not one iingle war in ten Was made to fave the rights of men ; So many bouts are loft and won, Such endlefs, mutual, mifchiefs done; That Juftice, blufhing at the fight, Swears neither party can be right. Lay down your ill-directed pride ; Go home, take care of your fire-C.de ; And, if you hate a peaceful life, Provide, betimes, a loving wife. HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXXIII. Do not, dear Ned, fo gravely mourn The falfehood of the fair ; But all your fervile verfes burn, Before they take the air. I muft, upon my foul, defpife A lover who fincerely fighs. The pretty prattling fools are proud, To give their betters pain : But, when our angels are allow'i Full leifure to difdain ; We read in each relenting face, They would, but dare not, turn the chafe. 2i THE PATKIOT. 5 Tis not your men of fenfe or wit, Who win their wavering hearts ; You muft, the female tafte to hit, Aflame a Coxcomb's arts : At every ball be fure to mine, And laugh at fools who cringe and pine* Then Madam's pride will take alarm, To fee her pow'r difdain'd ; And then me 1 !! fummon every charm To get the rover chain'd : And then the fort's within your reach, You may, at pleafure, florin the breach. THE PATRIOT. VV HATEVER rank we hold among mankind, Wifdom will recsmmend a fteady naind. Though fleeting fortune bid her bounties flow, Mark how content the beggar halts below. He fees contending kings for fafety fight, And peaceably enjoys his humble right, His heart is light, full cheaply is he fed, And each barn-floor can ferve him for a bed. You muft not, then, the poorer rank defpife, Becaufe they cannot to your height arife. Born to your fortune, they had flione like you, Hume, bred a plowman, might have held his plow j And common fenfe had furely ty'd his tongue, Admitting Mofes and the clergy wrong. " How many men fine poets might have made " Whofe wit (faid Locke), lies buried in a trade." Milton, a cobler, had not fung the ikies But rail'd in rhyme at Bifliops and Excife. The puns of Swift had forc'd fome vulgar fmiles, And fpread his fame through ten or twenty miles. THE PATRIOT. 227 And tender Otway from the lift'ning crowd, Had ftole a figh for " Orphans in the Wood." Perhaps the very boy who drives your cows, Cculd bear great Dryden's laurel on his brows, And feels within his breaft that facred'fire, Which we, too late, in Chatterton admire. For oft our talent in oblivion lies, Till fome reverfe of fortune bids it rife. Thus had not virtue rous'd a tyrant's wrath, More had not taught ns how to fmile at death. Thus had not Shakefpeare mot at Shallow's deer, Ophelia's fate might ne'er have forced a tear, The Prince of bards had calmly comb'd his wool, And paft, perhaps, with pedants for a fool. Aflonifh'd nations had not hail'd his name, And Englifti wit had wanted half its fame. But as good fenfe forbids you to difdain The homely plowman plodding o'er the plain, Ten thoufand thoufand hackney'd tales atteft, That mankind's mailers are at war with reft. Does fond ambition all your foul employ, Let this reflection every wifh deflroy ; " That happinefs the great have feldom'known, " And leaft of all that man who wears a crown." While Sully's hero made his people blefl, Domeflic mifery ftabb'd the monarch's reft ; -And what embitter'd, what deftroy'd his life? A ftuimpet's malice and a madman's knife. 'Tis a trite truth that ignorance alone, Make us repine at ranks above our own. Remark my lord, his carriage, and his gout, And blefs your fortune, you can walk about. Nature to moft is equally fevere, And death foon ends each vain diftind\ion here^ The rich, the poor, the mendicant, the king, Return to the fame duft from which they fpring. Nor by the faithful mould it be forgot, Omnifcient goodnefs fixes every lot. 2ft THE PATRIOT. And when you murmur at the part that's gives, What are you but a mutineer to heaven. And what wife man wculd fhew his rage in vain, Or madly bite an adamantine chain. Here common fenfe for once at leaft combines, "With the grave cant of orthodox divines. You hear with patience all I have to fay ; But flill ambition bears your heart away. You cannot think felicity complete, Unlefs you fhare the glories of the great. tc And fure," you cry, " 'tis quite a different thing, " To cringe as lacquey, and command as king. " Who would not wifh to figure in the HOUSE " What fond applaufe my talents might produce." For every freak, fome fond excufe we find, Does public fpirit really fire your mind ? No longer ftrain your lungs in each debate ; Are you concern 1 d what broker pawns the flate. Your talk will never turn one factious voice, Each patriot has already fixed his choice. In, vain Demofthenes himfelf might bawl, One luft for plunder rages through them all. Or mould by chance an honefl man go there, No living foul would fancy him fincere. Both fides would wonder what the Quixote meant, And tell him he difgrac'd the meffage he was fent. School-boys alone would dream of fuch a part, No fenator fpeaks fairly from his heart. Through right and wrong his fide he mufl defend, Or elfe be branded as a faithlefs friend. Statefmen at beft, are a"<* can he relifh what he cannot read ? 2j6 THE NEWSPAPER. Mseonides may pour his lofty flrain, But Heftor conquers Helen weeps in vain. Though Boyle, and Bacon, on his fhelves are plac'd. From frefher moderns has he form'd his tafte ; Through half their title page he dares not toil, But pores on C d, Rochefler, and Hoyle ; Or nods o'er Pamela's profound harangue, Or fpouts French catches with a nafal twang.; Or fhidies in the Journal of the day, The plot and prologue of the lafl new play. Nay, when he would effay to think or write, What mice the mountain ufhers into light ; As whether Swift his chaflity preferv'd, Why Lee went mad, and whether Otway flarv'dj Why Addifon was hen-peck 1 d by his wife, And fleep'd in port the poftfcript of his life ; Goldfmith how flow, how rapid Fielding wrote, How cheaply Steele his Taller e flays bought, Why beaftly Johnfon ne'er a nightcap wore, Why Pope was peevifh when his lungs were fore, Why flannel fhirts in winter he put on, And ftew'd and pick'd his lampreys to the bone, Was proud with trafli the pofi-office to cram, And made wry faces while he fipp'd a dram ; Why Dry den in a club of fools grew dumb, What Cambridge beadle pepper'd Milton's bum ; How ruftic Shakefpeare could not fpeil his name, And fpurn'd both pofthumous and prefent fame ; While that tremendous trump'ry, term'd his notes, Whole reams of volumes in fucceflion blots ; Where page on page a pedant can afford, To fix the fpell'mgof one worthlefs word. To royal fcenes another goofe quill foars, A Charles, an Edward, or an Henry's whores ; Or ftrains the pureil didion to exprefs, The wit and chaftity of virgin Befs ; What gowns, and ruffs, and farthingales fhe wore, Kpw well fhe danc'd, and bojc'd, and rhim'd, and fworr; THE NEWSPAPEK. 237 Her maids of honour with a knife would hack, And fprain her chaplain or her viceroy's back. What fpotlefs honour warm'd each James's heart, How well poor Mary play'd a veftal's part ; How many pregnant wives at once fell dead, When Common Senfe knock' d off the martyr's head ;* How well Dutch William lov'd a plate of peafe, And if John died by prieflcraft or difeafe.f Another band of yet fuperior fkill, Trace valiant Arthur's march from hill to hill j Can tell within ten minutes at the moft, When Canute landed on the Kentifh coaft; | How many ruffians Cumbria's fceptre fway'd, What vile hobnails a Mercian hammer made, When firfl Mancunium from a pig-ftye turn'd, When firfl in Saxon chimnies charcoal burn'd ; Whether from Wales or Galloway the route, Of Noah's grandfons for lerne fet out;|| What crowns of gold the kings of Munfler wore, Ere Sparta's cuckold touch'd the Trojan more. The feudal Sage at learned length defcribcs The generous virtues of the German tribes, With what pure freedom they beflow'd their votes, What calm delight they cut each other's throats ; * See a moft pathetic paflage on this fubjec* in Mr. Hume"* Hiflory of Charles I. f Archaeologia, Vol. IV. p. 29. et feq. | Ibid. Vol. VIIL p. 106. et feq. Ibid. Vol. III. p. 35. See a diflertation on the antiquity of horfe fhoes; and another, ibid. p. 39. " On (hoeing of horfcs a- ' mong the ancients." Alfo " Obfervations on ancient fpurs." Ibid. Vol. VIII. p. 43. ef feq. B Ibid. Vol. I. p. 49. An antiquarian attempts to prove that Britain was NOT firft inhabited by any of the defcendants of Co- rner ; an important difcovery ! For the circumftance mentioned in the next couplet, fee Ohalloran, and fome unaccountable fafts very well attefted in the. Archscologia, Vol. II. p. 32. 238 THE NEWSPAPER. How cheerfully they quafF'd the focial horn, And held all arts but homicide in fcorn. Nay, when to age their force began to yield, Nor death had chanc'd to meet them in the field $ Then as the climax of their martial whims, O'er fome tall precipice they broke their limbs. What fpacious room for admiration here, How much lefs lovely a Norwegian bear ! From this bright fource two antiquarian eyes Can fee the liberties of England rife ; On fuch a topick was it not worth while, Twelve hundred lively quartos to compile ? In latter times he paints a knighted pair Couching the lance to prove their doxies fair ; Tells how each vaffal on his wedding night, Refign'd the lover's to the baron's right j Whether a wretch from bondage who had fled, Or by his nofe, or ears, was homewards led ; Whether when reeling headlong round his houfie, A Norman pirate ever kick'd his fpoufe ; Fa&s pour on facts, a moft important flore, We have not time, nor patience, to run o'er. * Argus had wanted eyes enough to glance On half your tours through Italy and France ; Nine thoufand tomes, a fcanty computation, With ink, and nonfenfe, overwhelm the nation. Sermons but here, mayhap, I fhall be told, The very title makes your blood run cold ; That though whole tons are printed every day, No mortal cares a fig for what they fay. Our fober anceftors, whofe nerves were flrong, Could hear, with tranfport, ledures twelve hours long. * On thil fubjcft the reader may confult Whitaker, Strutt, and other popular writers. It was thought needlefs to crowd the bottom of the page with quotations. By the way, Mr. Whit, ker feems very often pofieffed of what he himfelf calli " an ami- " able credulity of fpirit." Additions to his Defence of Qjiecn Mary, p. .117- THE NEWSPAPER. Ijg How fadly fince have matters been derang'd, How foon old Slyboots our revolt reveng'd ; On Death, and Judgment, when divines enlarge, What modern mufcles chufe to ftand the charge? Now with this world fo wofully perplex'd, We fcarce find time to ponder on the next. Nay, fome abandon'd profligates declare, We'd judge to the mofl purpofe when got there. Unlefs another Omar mail arife, And with ten thoufand bonefires gild the ikies, The furface of our globe muft ceafe to hold The monthly mountains into calf-flan roll'd. The quack, attorney, critic, and divine, All in peculiar paths pretend to mine. The bladder one informs you how to probe, The next, in fpite of Tyburn, hew to rob ; A third would cenfure works he cannot fpell, A fourth engraves a folio map of hell. * One the whole pugiliflick art difplays, From brawny Broughton, down to Johnfon'i days ; Where to defend, attack, to fall, to clofe, To fplit the jaw bone, or to pound the nofc. Your patriot mews the minifler a fool, Your half-pay captain how to flafti by rule. One quarto teaches how to break a horfe, One how bad parfnips may be turn'd to worfe ; From Cambden topographers take the hint, And every parifh ruflies into print. Read Burke's eternal letter to an end, Or crack-brain'd Bofwell on his tour attehd ;t The Editor has adhially feen fuch a map, in the front of a large volume, tranflated, if he has not forgotten, from the orU ginal of a German. The well known map of Spiritual Naviga. tion, may be confidered as a counterpart. f The degrees of contempt are not infinite, and a character acquires liability, by being placed at the bottom of the fcale. 240 THE NEWSPAPER. Pope, bury'd in the mire of Warton's flcull, So trite, perplex'd, impertinent, and dull ; * Or Warburton's divine legation bore, And all the u facred" fcenes of Hannah More ; Thofe letters Lady Wortley never wrote, Or Craven's fcrawls fo innocent of thought, Or Jofeph Marfliairs jaunt, where by the bye, Through four thick volumes every word's a lie ;f Or modeft Bellamy's important tale, So archly fitted for a bagnio fale ; Where the pert harlot, fpouting foolim plays, In place of infamy demands our praife j Or honeft Mirabeau's hiftoric fpy, To which a halter only mould reply ; Or poor RoufTeau's unfortunate detail, Of all that bedlam blufhes to unveil ;| Thofe five portentous tomes about a fiddle, Nor Oedipus nor Hawkins could unriddle ; Or the bright anthems of our birth-day bard; If yet one verfe the barber's tongs have fpar'd ; Piozzi's chat, the novelifls of Lane, || That paragon of peerage, Lady Vane ; Or Anna Yearfeley's admirable note, Sweet as the warbling of a fcreech owl's throat ; Then with contemptuous pity fliall you fay, How much good paper has been call away 1 * See above, p. 38. f- No fuch perfon ever exifted. } See his CoHfeffions, in four or five volumes. || An eminent London bookfeller who advertifes for MSS- We cannot blame him for felling what we chufe to buy. This is the Briftol milk-woman. Her reception juftifies the remark that " Wonder, ufually accompanied by a bad tafte, looks " out only for what is uncommon ; and if a work comes abroad 4 under the name of a Threflier, a Bricklayer, or a Lord, it is " fure to be eagerly fought after by the million." Introduction to Sheridan's Life of Swift. THE KEWS?Af ER. 241 That paper which (a far fuperior ufe) Might well have ferv'd our honefl Mother Goofe, Or Banyan's Progrefs to the world to come, The Seven Wife Mailers, Whitfield, and Tom Thumb. Sagacious Elphinftone ! thou bard divine ! Did ever dulnefs eke fuch trafh as thine? Who has not heard where Englifh works arc nam'd, What precious metre thy fage wit has fram'd.? Skilful alike to cenfure and to praife, An arch fpe&ator of Rome's darker days, Long Martial charm'd the world, and charms it flill, But what a monfler iflues from thy quill ! While all our boys are cruelly perplex'd, What volume is the verilon or the text ; Admiring which of thefe can be the tongue, In which, for plumb-cake, they have pled fo long* How ftrangely Gordon hath diflorted thee, Couldfl thou, flem Tacitus, revive to fee ; See Senfe and Grammar fron) thy page retire, Thy pathos buried, and thy force expire ; That force, which if to Homer's it mufl yield, , ' Like vanquifli'd Ajax, flowly quits the field; Thy Spartan period in dull length extend, Through viler profe than Whiflon ever penn'd ; How like an eagle pouncing on her prey, Would thy keen talons drag him into day ; And tofs the bungler down the gulf of fcorn, The laughing-flock of ages yet unborn. Such precious fadts from Learning's fountain pour, To vamp the volumes of the vacant hour ; Far fooner mall I in the Herald read, What fchemes are hatching in the Premier's head ; Why laft night's privy council fat fo late. What mare each member bore in each debate ; What the Grand Turk when not a foul was near, W T hifper'd one morning in the Mufti's ear ; Why Upper Egypt to revolt intends, Why France, and Gorfica, continue friends j X 242 THE NEWSPAPER. Whether, when ninety lagging years run out, A Pope has dy'd of ratfbane or the gout ; What fliops with port his majefly fupply, Or iiow well feafon'd his laft Glo'fter pye ; WTiy the Mogul firuck of his Vifier's head, Why fools tranflate before they learn to read; Where with the moil convenience mares are bled, \Vhat dutchefs with her barber's caught a-bed ; What jocky dukes are jufl arriv'd in town, How oft Mendoza knock'd poor Humphries down j What faving pro] eft Sherry has to broach, What azure fattin lin'd fome bankrupt's coach ; How tennis aud quadrille diffolve his gold, His flud how dearly bought, how cheaply fold ; How young 'Squire Bubble on his private flage, Eclips'd all parrots of the prefent age ; How tenderly Mifs Tumbledown behav'd, How Chamont fcamper'd, and Monimia rav'd ; And how their audience, while Champaign run o'er, Extoll'd the farce, below contempt before ; W r ith what refinement Pacherotti fings, How nimbly on the faddle Aftley fprings ; Of fapient aldermen with turtle gorg'd, Of invalids for tippling porter fcourg'd j What widow wifhes for an active mate, W T hen Charger covers at the loweft rate ; What lottery-office deals the richeft fhower, What a French pedagogue demands per hour ; The price of wafli-ball, lavender, and hops, What refurrec~lions follow Maredant's drops ; And how all mortal, and immortal ills Shrink from the fight of Leake's venereal pills. We need not figh for Plautus or Moliere, The Whitehall poft fupplies their purpofe here; Dulnefs itfelf would fmile at the review, And Zion's fage acknowledgeTbwc^m^- new. Figures fo rapid on the canvafs rife, Such happy groupes the gazetteer fuppliet.! THE NEWSPAPER. 243 Who but with raptures of refpet mufl heir, That fix grey ponies fmoke beneath a peer ;* What banker's clerk at Dover has been ftopt, What chopping baftard in a privy dropt ; What generous foes avoid to fire with ball, What taylor's wife hates footmen when they're tall > His bride what porter in a rope has bought, What player pimps, what parfon's forg'd a note j Where teeming maids retirement may enjoy, What quacks a foetus in the womb deftroy ;f Eats how to kill, and butterflies prefervej What tools are penfion'd, and what patriots ftarve ; How fome ram family the world can fpare, Was beggar'd for the murder of a hare ; And how fome wretch want now compels to beg, Pick'd berries till a man-trap crufh'd his leg ; Or {hot the pigeons that deftroy'd his corn, And from his ploughmare was to Bridewell torn ; Why tars with Anfon who went round the world, Were down a {linking hold in handcuffs hurl'd g ^ What heirefs with her father's groom was feen, O'erleap each toll-bar 'twixt and Gretna Green j What dotard with a wench of twenty-one, In quefl of cuckoldom to church hath gone ; Of Fortune's envy, what a fatal proof, When an old nail run through Sir Peter's hoof; Or where, with venifon, laft Monday kill'd, Your paunch for half a guinea may be fill'd. Facts more important ftill, they oft difplay, When vice triumphant, blunders into day > Juvenal mentions a Roman conful who drove his chariot by moon light ; but adds, that at the expiration of his office, he would drive it in broad day. Such men juflify the remark of Lutker, " A ftone knows its ftone ; and an afs knows that he's " but an afs." t In Forfter's elegant account of one of Cook's voyages, there is inferted a copy of an advertifement to this purpofe, with foin reflexions on its naturt and tendency. 244 A CSARACTEH. What Lord Chief Juftice a harangue has made, . To prove 'tis wrong to call a fpade a fpade, And better wide from guilty truth to fteer, Than plunge in Newgate's offals for a year ; What borough-candidate contriv'd to fpend All he was worth, and all his friends would lend ; With pedlars, chimney-fweeps, and butchers din'd, With tuns of porter every tavern lin'd ; DancM with each bumpkin beauty of the town, Pledg'd every toaft, drank all his pledges doAvn ; Whole troops of bruifers to the Huflings brought, And mifs'd his purchafe by a carman's vote. But moft of all we're happy in the hour, When Fox and Pit their vocal thunders pour ; When fomc excife aft into rags is torn, And mutual taunts are dealt with mutual fcorn. What flrength of lungs and logic are difplay'd ! A fcene where Tully might have learn'd his trade ; What rich embellifhments the farce would bear, But 'tis full time to finifh our career. A CHARACTER. OF men in whom North Britain's bled, On whom the poor depend for bread ; There's one, we frankly may atteft, The world could fcarce fupply his ftead ; That he, in Friendship' s walk, hath fhonc, Like Hannibal in arms, unrivall'd and alone. Let ficknefs kill his ploughmen's cattle, Or Auguft rot their crops with rain, He does not flog them into battle, Arreft, imprifon, and diilrain ; No grinding flatute is diftorted, But every tear wip'd off, and every nerve fupportcd; A CHARACTER. 24J While forne whole clouds of pigeons breed, To pick the farmer's wheat when fown, And fixty pair of blood hounds lead, To tread the ripen'd harvefl down, And ftrip the cow-herd's only coat, Who fells a partridge worth a groat.* Ye dire difpenfers of the peace, On every human right who trample ! From forcing our abhorrence, ceafe ; And follow his fublime example. No more foall nations pray, and hope, To fee your worfhips dangle in a rope. Ye Pharaohs of this generous age, Who fcourge your vaflals to diftra&ion t Gan ye, by venting fruitlefs rage, Feel his tranfcendent fatisfa&ion, Who clofcs life as he began, Exifting but to aid the miferies of man. When Socrates fought alms in vain, Had fuch a friend adornM his flock, No care had gall'd Afpafia's fwainf About the purchafe of a cloak ; His teacher's every wifh had been Supply'd that inftant 'twas forefeen. " John Jeflbp was fined at the Public Office, Bowflreet, in five " pounds for being concerned with Newton, who was fined laft " week in the fame fum for fliooting a cock pheafant. He could " not pay, and was fent to the Correction Houfe for three months."' Vide London Papers, November 1789. So much for ENGLISH Liberty ! Query, What lofs would enfue to focietT-, if all the wild-fowl in Europe were exterminated ? f Afpafia was a woman of the town, and Socrates frequented her houfc to learn the beauties of rhetoric from HER converfation. 246- A CHARACTER* Could I, in all its charms, exprefs f , How bright a ray his bofom pierces, Genius might envy my fuccefs, And Candour vindicate my verfes. The mite of virtue, in the world, To Lethe ought not to be hurl'd A benefaftor to mankind, More frank, more tender, and more true, Exhaufllefs Dryden never feign'd, His darling Shakfpearc never drew ; Nor Chatterton had begg'd in vain, Nor Butler met, from him, vrith thanklefs told difdain.. Thus having flightly fltetch'd his worth, I've now the medal to reverfe, Trump all his human frailties forth,. All which a Bozzy would rehearfe j And Cng the fad refolves of Fate, That he fliould ne'er approach the glories of the great I Firfl, then, he wants (we can't deny) All the moil fplendid marks of wealth, He watches, with an Alfred's eye His time, his money, and his health j T' oblige all mankind feems as willing^ As though he were not worth a fhilliug. Nay, worfe, he has not rear'd a find, Nor gives the jockey crew protection } Nor forces perjury to bud, By carving votes for an election j But rarely Speculates in cocks, Or gallops eighty leagues to fee two butchers box, He knows, moft dully, what he's iloni^ j Nor builds, and plants, and feafts for ever ; -Nor throws a farm-houfe into ruin, To clear his profpeft to the river \ ItEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN* The charm of folitude can prize, Nor from bimfelf affrighted flies : And though his talents are refin'dV "Without a grain of affe&ation, And, had their mafter fo inclin'd, Might long have reap'd our admiration^ And near all-matchlefs Frederick's name Have rank'd his literary fame j Like him he prints no terfe o&avos, To prove his tendernefs and taile j Nor hires two hundred thoufand bravoes y To lay a peaceful empire wafte. Sages, and heroes, if ye can, Make hafte to copy fuch a man. And when he's gone where Phocion went r That breafl companion warms no morc r And crouds iheirfelfijh forrow vent Who never fympathiz'd before, Some happier mufe a right may claim y To give Pofterity his name.. MEMOIRS or THE LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. THIS author was born at a village in the parifli of Kil- lerne, and county of Dumbarton, about the beginning of February 1506. The chief incidents of his life are re- lated with modefl brevity, in a memoir written by faim- felf, about two years before his death, and commonly prefixed to his works. His fuperior genius buril through the darkefl clouds of indigence and misfortune. In every country where he fucceflively refided, his abi- lities infpired men of letters with admiration. " Bu- 248 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN". " chananum omnibus antepono*," was the expreffion r> Qiieen Elizabeth. " Georgius Buchananus," fays DC Thou, " vir in genii felicitate, et fcribendi facultate, fcl * quod ejus fcripta ad omnem eternitatem vi&ura vel 44 fatente invidia teftantur, noftra state incomparabi- 44 lis." 44 For an happy genius, and the talent of com- 4i pofltion, no writer of our age has been comparable to 41 George Buchanan. Of this we have full evidence from his 4A works, which, evenby the confeflion of envy, (hall endure " to all eternity." 44 Sed quo te," fays Gilbert Gray, " piaculo ta ceam Buchanane ? aut quo prcecohio cele- u brem unicum mufarum hujus aevi decus ?" 4fe With what 44 blame mould I pafs in Clence over thee, O Buchanan ! 4 Vor in what flyle of panegyric fliall I celebrate the only " ornament of the mufes in our age." t4 Sane aurea, 1 ' fays Quenftedt, 44 ejus et cum omnibus prifcis com- i " paranda poemata, jure merito omnium verfantur ma- 44 nu." " His verfes are defervedly in the hands of eve- " ry one. They are indeed ineftimable, and may be com- 44 pared with the bed poems of antiquity." In the Scali- geranawc are told, that 44 ~Buchananus unus efl in totaEu- 44 ropa omnes poft fe relinquens in Latina Poefi." 44 Bu- 44 chanan alone has left all Europe behind him in Latin'po- 44 etry." In a ftiort poem infcribed to our author, Juliu* Sealiger, one of the mofl able and mofl arrogant fcholars of his age, compares himfelf to a magpie, and pronounces Buchanan to be " Dcus Ihteratormn," " the God of the " learned." He tells him that he had been born on the fummit of Parnaffus, that he had been foftered in the bofom of Calliope, and that, by her facred infpiration, he had been deflined to bear away the praife of excellence from every nation that cultivated the learning of Rome. .Anurew Melvil, Theodore Beza, Jofeph ScalVger, Charles Utenhovius, Adrian Turnebus, Archbifliop Spotifwoode, and a multitude of other writers of different nations, have celebrated our author, as an amiable man, an accomplifh- " I prefer Buchanan to all." Walpolc's Catalogue of Royal and Noble Authors, Vol. I. p. 30. ifEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 249 edfcholar, and aboye all, as spoet of unrivalled beauty. At- teftationsof this nature in Englim, French, Greek, and La- tin, have been laboriouflycoiJe&edbyRuddiman. They fill thirty-two clofc printed quarto pages in Burman's elegant edition ; and we are at the fame time tolfl that fuch quota- tions might be extended to infinity. We have alfo a ca- talogue of the different impreffions of his works, at Edin- burgh, London, Paris, Amflerdam, Leyden, Frankfort, Utrecht, Leipfic, Lyons, Geneva, and other cities on the continent, preceding th year 1715; and either 1 de- tached portions, or entire editions, of his works had been publifhed in his original language an hundred and twenty times, befldes numerous translations. " Vivit adhuc," fays Thomas Smeton, " et utinam diu vivat, orbis terra- u rum, non Scotiz tantum decus Georgius Buchananus." *' There yet lives, and long may he continue to live, " George Buchanan, the glory, not of Scotland only, but u of the world." In a letter to De Thou, Grotius diftin- guiflics as the father of modern dramatic poetry, u Scotiae " illud numen," " that divinity of Scotland. 1 '* Our au- thor was of a carelefs, frank, independent difpofition ; and as poverty, or rather a negleft of money, did not per- mit him to purchafe applaufe, nor his temper to court it, we may prefume that the veneration of his cotemporarie* was perfectly Cncere. Their fentiments have been amply ratified by pofterity. " Poetarum fui feculi facile prin- ;t cepsf," has been theencomiumbeftowedupon himfortwo centuries by the general confent of Europe. " In his im- u mortal poems," fays Bifhop Burnet, ct he Qiews fo well " how he could imitate all the Roman poets, in their fe- " veral ways of writing, that he who compares them will * c be often tempted to prefer the copy to the original. u There is a beauty and life, an exadlnefs, as well as a " liberty, that cannot be imitated, and fcarce enough 14 commended. His ftyle is fo natural and nervous, and " Tibi hsec mittuntur, qui poft Scotiae illud numen rcdmvar* " nobis reduxifti Tragoediam." f " Unqueflionably the firft poet of his age." 25 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAST. " his reflexions are fo judicious, that he is juflly reckon* u ed the greatefl and befl of our modern authors."* His panegyrifts of the prefent day are numerous and fan- guine. Dr. Bcattie, in his mofl ingenious eflay on the uti- lity of claffical learning, obferves, that " the Latin poems " of Buchanan|have been long and univerfally known and " admired." " He was," fays one of his editors, " fo " great a mafter of the elegance of the Latin language, lt ployed fo many kinds of verfe, difplay admirably the " extent and univerfality of his mind, the quicknefs and u abundance of his fancy, and the power and acutenefs " of his judgment-" 4t Nullum ego," fays Burman, u fi " ab anti quioribus decefleris, celebrari unquam audivi * l aut legi, qui cum Buchanano contendere poflit." " If u you except the ancients, I have never heard or read of Vide, Hiftory of Reformation, Vol. I. Book 3d. and a pafto. ral charge by the fame author. The above are a few detached fentences. The original paflagei were too prolix for an entire infertion. f " Tantu* erat Buchananus Latinitatis et elegamis artifex, *' ut potius auftor quam imitator, utque mnium poetarum fan- ' guis ejus venam compleiTe videatur." Vide, Preface to an edition of hi verfion of the Pfalms, printed at Edinburgh, isi MEMOIRS OF OEOROE BUCHANAN. ajt u any celebrated writer, who could rival Buchanan." A fhort review of his perfonal hiftory feemsnecefiary tornake an account of his writings intelligible. When a boy, he was fent to fhidy at the univerfity of Paris. On his return to Scotland, he inlifled as a com- mon foldier in the French troops then in this country. When about eighteen, he became conne&ed with John Major the hiftorian, and accompanied him in a journey to Paris. Where he obtained employment as a teacher in the college of St. Barbe. He next engaged himfelf with the Earl of Caffilis, and with him he returned a fecond time to Scotland, after an abfence of about ten years. He then undertook the education of one of the natural fons of James V. * In 1539, a quarrel with the Francifcans drove him out of the kingdom. Pafling through England, he fettled as a public teacher at Bourdeaux. Here his fame as a poet became diftinguiflied; and his four tragedies were acled with applaufc. Indeed, as he died when Shake- fpeare was but eighteen, we may believe the aflertion of Grotius, that he was the firft dramatic writer of his day, After a refidence of three years at Bourdeaux, he feems to have returned to Paris. Ju 1547, on an invitation from John III. of Portugal, he went into that kingdom. He was, not long after, caft into the inquifltion, where he lay confined for about eighteen months. At laft he obtained leave to embark for England, where he landed in 1551. In January 1553, he failed for France. In 1 554, he accom- It has been faid a thoufand timei orer, that he was ap- pointed by James V. preceptor to his fan, who wat afterwards Earl of Murray. Upon reading the dedication of the Francifcan, which is infcribed to the Earl of Murray, it will be obferved, that this baftard fon, as Buchanan calls him, whoever he was, could not have been the perfon to whom this dedication was a.d drefled. That pupil is twice mentioned, and always in the third perfon ; and Mr. Man, upon the authority of Leflie, informs u, that he was another James Stuart, who died in 1558. Vide Man's Cenfure and Examination, &c. p. 349. n book of which I (hall tak,e farther notice in another place. 2J4 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. panied into Italy Marftial Briflac, by whom he was receiv- ed* into an intimate friendfhip. In his family he continu- ed till 1560. In 1563, he returned to Scotland. In 1565, he again vifited France, for the purpofe of fuperintending the printing of his verfion of the Pfalms. This voyage feems to have terminated his excurfions to the continent. He was made Principal of St. Leonard's college, in the univerfity of St. Andrew's ; an office which he^ifter- wards found it neceflary to refign, on being appointed preceptor to James VI. In 1567, he was elected Mode- rator of the General Affembly of the Church of Scotland. He was likewife promotedlto be Director of the Chancery, a member of the Privy Council, and keeper of the Privy Seal. His Hiflory of Scotland was printed juft before his death, which happened at Edinburgh, on the a8th day of September 1582. He was buried in the church-yard of the Grayfriars. " Foreign nations," fays Dr. Stuart, tc as well as his own countrymen, were filled with the > c utmoft admiration of the genius of Buchanan ;" yet his grave has never been diftinguifhed by a tomb-ftone. Before I proceed to any critical remarks on his writings, it feems proper to take fome notice of the reproaches which have been caft upon his memory. Dr. Stuart, in hii late Hiftory of Qgeen Mary, informs us, that '* She invited Buchanan from France to Scotland, with u a view that he mould take the charge of the education * of her fon ; and till Jaaies fhould be cf a proper age to *' receive inftruclion, fhe appointed him to be chief maf- " ter in St. Leonard's college, in the univerfity of St. An- " drew's. Her generofity did not flop here. She granted " him a yearly penfion of five hundred pounds *, payable " out of the Abbey of Corfragwell. The commiffion for " this gift is ftill extant, and is dated upon the gth day 44 of Oaober 1564." Dr. Stuart infers, in the harfheii terms, that Buchanan was a monfter of ingratitude. ' Our Author fliould have added S jo MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAW. i.i an ode, to which Horace cannot often produce a para* lell. Where every ftanza is excellent, feledlion becomes an office of delicacy. Having, with his ufual impetuofity, reproached Charles as a monfter more hideous than the Gorgon Sifters, or the Hydra, having placed in the moft flriking point of view, his barbarity t his ambition, and his power, he thus, in a tranfport of exultation, defcribe* the anguifh of the defeated tyrant : Tu bellicofas dux bone Gallic Sperare promtam cun&a fuperbiam Compefcuifti: tu dedifti Indomito laqueos furori. Quis vultus illi? qui dolor intimis Arfit medullis? fpiritus impotens Cum clauttra fpedtaret MofelJje Et juvenura intrepidam coronam. Sic unda rupes faevit in obvias, Claufus caminis ignis inaefluat, Hyrcana fie tigris cruento Dente fuas furit in catenas. In Engli/b tbus^ ct Thou worthy leader of gallant France haft blafted * that pride forward to hope for every fuccefs: Thou haft 44 fixed bounds to fury till now irreGftible. u What were his looks ? What agonies, convulfed e- " very nerve ? when his impotent haughtinefs beheld the " ramparts of the Mofelle *, and her intrepid band of " youth ? " Thus rages a furge againft oppofing rocks ; thus fub- *' terranean fire'ftruggles for a paflagc ; thus the Hyrca- * nian tyger champs his chains with his bloody teeth." No reader will expect that the beauties of fuch an ori- * Metz Hands on the banks of that river. 2 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 2f life. But the profound learn- ing of Buchanan, his habits of equality and confidence with men of rank, and his long refidence in many different countries, afford him numerous advantages, in point of force, variety, and correftnefs. From the friend of Af- cham and Scaliger, from the preceptor of a prince, and the prefident of a college, produ&ions more claflical might juftly be demanded, than from the playwright of a licentious flage, the tool of au ufurping prieflhood, and the reluctant hireling of a bookfcllcr. Both writers were long the poets of a court; both have left us an immenfe number of fliort temporary pieces, defigned merely to pleafe, entertain, or vex a few individuals, but forcing thcmfelvcs on our lafling applaufe by the merit of com- pofition. The Scottim poet, at leafl, can hardly be flig- matifed as obfcene ; but both were ambitious of advan- cing to the utraofl verge of decency. Both were by far the fu-fl fatirifts of their refpedive periods. Both poflefs- cd fuch inexhauflible talents for panegyric, and both were poetical tranflators of fuch fupreme fkill, that in either capacity they have hardly a Cngle rival in the whole records of literature. But the operations of the Z 266 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. poet raufl always take an imprelfion from the manners of his age, and the temper of the man. Dryden feems to have been weak, indolent, and from levity almoft inca- pable of principle or fincere attachment. He is therefore often negligent, and whatever be his theme, he is in fre- quent danger of relapfing into a jefl. On the contrary, his predeceffor is grave, intrepid, impetuous, and impla- cable. He never attacks by halves. His ridicule dark- ens into rage. He combats not for conqueft, but extir- pation. From the pontiff and emperor, to the pedagogue and the monk, the vidlim of his derifion is infallibly held forth not only as the dullefl, but the vilefl of mankind. Every poffible feature of vice and folly feems anxious to ftart from the canvafs. With the abrupt dexterity of a veteran familiar to vi&ory, he at once clofes upon his adverfiiry, tramples him, and tears him to pieces. O- verwhclmed by a luminous burft of thought, the mind bends under .the grafp of his eloquence, while veneration and gratitude, for the artiil forbid us to queflion the juf- tice of the liken efs. The dreadful annals of the fixteenth century fupplied inceffant exercife for a mind glowing with every fcntiment of hostility and defiance. Buchan- an was not only more fleady in the exertion of his talents, but more fortunate in the objects of his choice. For the purpofes of a laureate, Henry the fecond of France, John third of Portugal, the two rival queens of Britain, and the memorable tyrant of the German Empire, were bet- ter adapted than the pensioner Charles, or the Jefujt James. The foibles of thePreibyterians prefent the mh]d with no image parallel to the fcenes of impoflure and de- bauchery fo copioufly defcribed in the Francifcan. Evea Monmouth and Shaftefbury were but pigmies of fedition, when compared with the ilupenduous atrocity of the houfe of Guife. In his addrefs .to the Cardinal of Lorraine, compofed after the maflacre of Paris, Buchanan bids him furvey the price of his grandeur a nation of widows and orphans a country covered with blood and afhes and MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 367 fternly aflures him that to fuch a prodigy of guilt, hell muft be a definable refuge from the curfes of mankind. u Yet even there," adds the poet, " you will be admit- u ted with terror, and watched with anxiety, left & foul u fo turbulent fhould fpread rebellion among the damn- " ed." Thefe fallies offend not our feelings, for thej confift with truth, but they would have been utterly in- applicable to the heroes of Abfaloin and Achitophel. On Ravillac or Felton neither Whig nor Tory would have endured an encomium, but no reader can be much ofFend- "ecl when Buchanan refers with gratitude to the blunder- bufs ofPoltrot*. Dryden has marked as one of his fc- ver'eft effufions the portrait of Zimri. His provocation was an admirable burlefque on fome of his abfurd plays. He charges Buckingham with no deep vice or. atrocious crime. He is fatisfied by representing him as the moft thoughtl efs, frivolous, and defpicable of mankind. With what a contraft are we fometimes aftonifhed in Buchan- an's " Mufeof Fire!" In what the writer calls an epitaph on Hamilton Archbifhop of St. Andrew's, he begins by jnforming us that our parent earth now breathes lighter fince delivered from the burden of fuch an abominable monfter ; that all the angels of darknefs have been fa- tigued in preparing for his reception, and that every o- ther department of perdition now ftands ftill, the whole tortures of Tartarus being devoted to a fingle victim. Unius in p&nas, dum totus rult Avernus. After paufing with complacency on this charitable pro- fpedl, he concludes by profefling his regret, that the Pri- mate's carcafe had not been caft to the dogs. Hamilton had been executed as an accomplice in the murder of the Regent Murray, the friend and benefalor of the feroci- ous fatirift. The fervile temper of Dryden, is univerfally known, and in this part of the parallel Buchanan appears * On the 24th February 1563, the Duke of Guife wai mortally wounded at the fiege of Orleans, by John Poltrot, a French Pro- tcftant. Zij 3^8 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. with iuperior advantage. The force of his mind was only to be broken, by the ftroke that diflblved its mortal exift- ence. At the age of feventy, when oppreffed by the gout and flone, he published his tragedy of John the Baptift, which is infcribed to his pupil with atone of firmncfs and dignity worthy of his former fame. " If at any time," fays Buchanan, u impelled by bad coun Tellers, or the li- " centioufnefs of the kingdom, overcoming a virtuous " education, you aft amifs, I intend this work as an evi- 4t de-nce to pofterity, that the fault lies not with your 44 preceptors,but with you, ncgledling to follow their pro- " per admonitions." The treatife De Jure Regnl, is in- fcribed to King James, in the fame independent and man- ly ftyle. In the fublime of Engtifh lyric poetry, Dryden has no rival, and in the crowd of modern Latin poets, the fame honourable diftinftion may be claimed for our country- man. It will be difficult to produce an ode, which can be compared with thofe on the {leges of Metz, of Verceil, and of Calais, with that on the Kalends of May, with an- ^ other on the conduct of the Portuguefe in Brafil, or \vi.h thofe three infcribed to Marfhall Briflac and his lady, to the Chancellor of France, and to Queen Elizabeth of Eng- land*. Dryden wrote merely for money, to gratify his own psffions, or~thofe of his contemporaries. His tafte had been early corrupted by the conceits of Donne and Cowley, and it was the fummit of his ambition to pleafe the audience of apiay-houfe, or the concubine cf a prince. Buchanan took his flight from higher ground. The great- er part of his life was fpent, not behind the curtain of a theatre, but in the retirement of a college. He held the ancients ever in his eye. On every occafion, however trif- ling, he feems to have been mindful of fame and pofteri- ty; nor did his meal depend on the caprice of a purfe- * If the reader has an opportunity of examining the endlefs volumes of Italian verfe, he will difcoTer, in this particular, the prodigious fuper iority of our Author. MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 269 proud tradefman, capable of eflimating his volumes only by their bulk. The diftindlion is eafily difcernible. Dry- den is ever difturbing our tranquillity with a detail of his talents and his fufferingsof perfecutcd virtue, and negleft- ed merit. Buchanan, too proud for oftentation, never mentions himfelf or his writings, but in a tone of the moil guarded propriety. His mind was fuperior to vanity or grimace, and yet more to that pitiful canting ftyle, which pollutes the endlefs prefaces of the Englifli laureate. To the Dunciad or Macflecknoe there is nothing correfpon- dent in the fatires of Buchanan. Of contemporary poets he often fpeaks, but always in the kindeft and moft liber- al terms. Confcious, perhaps, that he was far above a ri- val, he celebrates with a profufion of praife, a multitude of writers whofe names are now only remembered by their infertion in his verfes. If he ever had any poetical ene- mies, the lafl traces of their exiftence appear to have been long fince obliterated, for he never raifed them into an- tagonifts by condefcending to revile them. This delica- cy, which marks fueh a manly fuperiority to the petulance of fome modern poets, deferves the higher praife, as we have feen that his paifions were violent, his courage in- flexible, and as he has left behind him full evidence that on every other topic from the civil wars of a kingdom, to the brawls of a bagnio, he was prepared and prompt for battle. To write a regular criticifm on the poetical works of Buchanan, or to give even but a faint idea of the wonder- ful variety of their contents and beauties would require a large volume. . The reader may be amufed by a mort ac- count of each of the principal feftions, into which his ori- ginal poems have ufually been divided. It feems unne- cefiary to fpeak.here of his Pfalms, as they are in the hands of every fchool-boy. I. It has already been obferved, that, by the deCre of James V. lie began a poem intitled Franc'tfcanus. After an exile of twenty-four years, he returned to his native country, u now," as he fays, u beyond the hopes of all Zly 27 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 41 men, happily delivered from the tyranny of mongers." His fatire, left unfinifhed for fo great a lapfe of time, was I ublifhed in the year i -764, with a dedication to his friend, the well known Earl of Murray. Buchanan was now at the age of fifty-eight; he had rambled over a great part of Europe, had feen, and fuffered, and reflected much, and he poffefled, in an ample degree, the proverbial fen- fibility of a poet. We are therefore entitled to expect a fuperior monument of his abilities and his vengeance. The Francifcan will fatisfy our moft fanguine wimes. It ex- tends to nine hundred and thirty-fix lines, and opens by the author inquiring at an acquaintance, a Francifcan no- viciate, what he means by this fudden grimace, and af- fectation of fanctity iu his appearance. He adjures him, in the moft folemn manner, to fpurn the trammels of vul- jjar fuperftition, to diftruft the pomp of the hierarchy, fo much admired by the maflers of mankind, and examine Chriftianity by the facred light of reafon. He proceeds, in a vein of irony, to tell him that he himfelf had once in- dulged the fame fort of frenzy, but had been diverted from it by the fage advice of his friend Eubulus. The author next repeats his admonitions, in the form of a harangue, from this imaginary preceptor, who goes on for a few fen- tences in a calm, temperate ftyle, with an evident defign to gain the confidence of the reader. But fuddenly, as if impatient to repair the lofs of time, Eubulus, or rather Buchanan, burfts cut in a torrent of reproach. A literal tranflation of the poem would extend to the fize of a pam- phlet. Every fentence abounds with the wit, eloquence, and fublimity of Juvenal; the copioufnefs of fentiment, the fluency of expreffion, and the ferocity of contempt which diftinguifli the admirable, though neglected Ciau- dian*. The Francifcans are exhibited, in every point of Buchanan, with the tafte of a fcholar, mentions this great author in the moft refpe&ful terms. Dryden rafhly and imper- tinently cenfures him. In many reipe&s Claudian hat a ftrong vefemblance to the two moderns. Indeed, though much inferior ViEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 271 view, as vultures tearing out the vitals of fociety. The writer defcribes, at great length, their numberlefs arts of impofing upon the mob, and efpecially upon the weaker lex. He tells, what we know to be-true, that when a wealthy penitent was at the point of death, it was their practice to extort, under the terrors of eternal perdition, an extravagant legacy to thtir convent ; and he affirms, what is fufficiently credible, that by fuch exactions, many families had been ruined. He enlarges upon their pride, ignorance, dulnefs, envy, hypocrify, debauchery, and felfifhnefs; their factious fpirit, treachery, cowardice, " or a high window, that he might avoid the mock of ad- 44 verfity; but now, when the pangs of confcience, or fear 46 of a fevere judge, or infamy more terrible than every 44 other punifhment purfues a criminal, he binds a cord 44 about his middle, and takes refuge under the cowl of 4t St. Francis. And, as if to fhave the crown cou'! ftifle 44 the agonies of guilt, the razor fuddenly confecrates a 44 fwarnj of devotees, transformed from thieves, parri- 44 cidea, blafphemers, and catamites; 1 ' This poem affords a fine counter-part to Dryden's Hind and Panther; and how much more honourably would he have been employed in turning it into Englifh verfe ? We cannot wonder that Buchanan was perfecuted through life by the blood-hounds of fuperftition, or that his memory has been loaded with a whole library of reproaches, the moft unjufl and incredible. I mall difmifs this article by the infertion of three lines, which may be read with plea- fure, but cannot be tranflated with decency. In feducing a young girl, our author fays, . 44 Et pede tange pedem, dextram dextra, oribus ora : 41 Sic, diis, rides, fie molliter ofcula jungis, 44 Ofcula commit/as inter lu&antia lingua*. 274 MEMOIRS or GEORSE II. Another fe having, after an obftinate fiege, forced a town to furrender, to convince the in- habitants of their perfedt iecurity, entered firft himfelf, without a fingle attendant, and going into a bookfeller's fliop, inquired for a copy of Buchanan's poems. A a iij Z82 MEM01KS OF GEOEGE BUCHANAN, vile age, have borne away the palm of popularity and pre- ferment from his cynical predeceflbr. Though he lived and died in thebcfom of treafon, rapine, and profcription, Buchanan would have feen, with furprife, our modern ilandard of morality. We call ourfelves a free people, and yet we have fubmitted to hear, from the chair of juf- ticc, that truth is a libel, a doctrine which tears up the foundations of civil fociety, and compared to which tran- fubftantiation, or even the divine right of tyrants, is a modefl and refpedlable fophifm. With what indignation would the author of the treatife De Jure R'egni, have branded the father and abettors of fuch an execrable max- im? It is natural enough, that a barrifter, whofe life has been employed in brawling, fhould, in the end, dif- tort his own mind out of all fenfe of equity, and when HE mounts the faddle of authority, fuch decifions may fome- times be expefled; but what are we to think of thofe a- bandoned jurors, who, fporting with the trufl of their fel- low citizens, have crouched under this utmoft infolence of juridical corruption. V. The love verfes in this fecYion have all the tender- nefs, elegance, and vivacity of Catullus. Some Englifh imitators of Spenfer and Milton, have copied nothing but their faults. On the contrary, Buchanan improves upon his mailer. We are no where difgufled by the licentious vulgarity of the Roman poet. The following elegant ad- drefs may ferve as a fpecimen of his ftyle.. Quantum delicias tuas amabam, Odi deterius duplo, ampliufque Tuam nequitiam et procacitatem, Poftquam te propius, Neara novi. At tu fi penitus perire me vis, Si vis perd!"e amem, et magis magifquc Totis artubus irnbibam furorem, Sis nequam magis, et magis proterva. Nam quo nequior es, proterviorque, Tanto impeuflus uror inquieto MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 283 Venttlante odio faces amoris. Et lentas iterum ciente flammas. Quod li fis melior, modeftiorque, Odero minus, et minus te amabo. " As much as I loved Ihy charms, twice as much more " have I detefted thy pride and wantonnefs, after, O Ne- " zra! I knew thee better. But if thou canil wifh me ut- " terly undone, if thou defireft that I mould love to dif- " tradlion, that madnefs mould more and more burn in u every vein, be flill more haughty, and ftill more wan- " ton. For the more haughty and the more wanton thou 44 art, by fo much more deeply am I inflamed with reft- 44 lefs hatred fanning the torch of love, and again kind- 4t ling its decaying flames. Wert thou more modefl, and 44 more worthy, I ihould hate thee lefs, but I mould love 44 thee lefs." We have alfo fome mort and beautiful addreCes to Theodore Beza, and other men of letters, which muft have been infinitely pleafing and flattering to the author's literary affociates. We cannot wonder, that wit, and learning, and valour, and beauty, whatever is amiable, or venerable in human nature, crouded into the corre- fpondence of a poet, prodigal of immortality. The laft article in this feclion proves that Buchanan poffefled the art of raiflng, into importance, a fubjedl in itfelf trifling. It confifls of verfes on a diamond cut into the fhape of a heart, and fet in a ring, which Queen Mary, in 1564, fent as a prefent to Elizabeth. To forbear their infertion, is an injury to the author. VI. lambon Liber. This feclion confifls, like the laft, of eleven articles. The firft is infcribed to Walter Had- don. The remainder confift of four fatires addreffed to Leonora, a Portuguefe hoftefs ; four pieces of the fame na- ture, infcribed to a profeffor in Goimbra; and two tranf- lations from the Greek, one of which is the fatire of Si- monides upon women. This poem, the Spectator has pretended to translate entire, but has omitted the lall 24 MEMOIBS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN'. twenty-five lines, which, as the poet's parting blow, con- tain a furious inve&ive againft the whole fex. After this honeft piece of management the Spectator praifes the Greek poet for his delicacy in forbearing to cafl out any general reflections againfl women. I return to Buchanan. His firft addrefs to Leonora begins thus: Matre impudica filia impudicior, Et lena mater filiz, Vos me putaftis eiTe ludumque et jocum, O Scorta triobolaria, Sacrinculorum pauperum faflidia Rclifta mendicabuli Vos ne videret gurgites, ne pafceret Vir filia: ufque ad ultimcs Profugit Indos : nee viae longinquitas, !Nec nota feritas gentium, Nee belluofi rapida fsevities freti Ab inftituto terruit. Nullum periculum, iiulla monftri eft vaftitas Quam perpeti non maluit, Quam vos videre duplices voragines Famse reique prodigas. Externa potius arma, quam domefticam Vult ferre turpitudinem. " O daughter more impudent than thy impudent rno- ct ther, and thou bawd to thy daughter, ye have thought " me to be a jeft and a fport, ye threepenny {trumpets, " ye detefled leavings of the beggarly attendants of ftarv- '" ing priells. u Left he fhould fee, or fupport fuch whirlpools, the " daughter's hufband fled to the remoteft Indies. Nei- " ther the length of paflage nor the well known ferocity " of the natives could fright him from his purpofe. There " was no danger, there was no favage moniler whom he " was not willing rather to encounter, than to behold MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BVCHANANV 285 a you, two gulphs abforbing property and chara&er. He " prefers foreign arms to domeflic infamy." The reft of the poem, of which the above is a fourth part, is fuitable to fuch a beginning. The writer defcribes with great eloquence, the deftructive confequences of Leonora's proflitution, upon the ftudents at Goimbra, and concludes by predicting that her debauchery mufl ter- minate in difeafe, deformity, and want. In another ar- ticle he confefTes, that me had once enjoyed his utmoft tendernefs, and laments the infamy into which paflion, or rather appetite had betrayed him, " My; heart," he exclaims, " was not pierced by the dart of Cupid, but " blafted by the torch of perdition. Ye avenging furies, " for what crime have I been fcourged at youf tribunal?" Even folly and vice are compatible with a fpecies of dig- nity. Compare Buchanan frankly recording his faults and his remorfe, to Pope vamping four volumes of letters, with a catalogue of his headachs and his virtues. The profeflbr is, if pofiible, handled with Hill lefs ce- remony, than the courtezan. " He knows," fays Buch- anan, " every fcience except thofe which he pretends to " teach; he is an excellent cook, weaver, huckfter, joe- u key, and ufurer. No butcher in the public market " ever excelled him at cheating with falfe weights." I have already far exceeded the limits intended for this. efTay, and /hall conclude by a few general remarks on our author's flyle. No poet ever required lefs aid from critical illuftration. In Buchanan we very feldom meet with thofe fudden tranfi- tions from one topic to another, fo frequent in Horace^nd Juvenal; fo diflreffing often to the learner, though fome- times fo pleafing to the mature fcholar. Whatever be his objedl, it is ever kept in view. From the FRANCIS- CANU, for example, two lines cannot be abilradled .with- out evident mutilation. Perhaps his experience, as a teacher, may in part have inflruc~led him to fympathize with the difficulties of a beginner. No Roman author, now extant, exhibits fuch a variety of flyle. There is 286 MEMOIRS OF GSOHGE BUCHANAN*. hardlv perhaps one claffical word in the Latin language which may not be fomewhere found in his writings. Yet there are very few difficult pafTages in Buchanan. As his fubjedl requires it, he is alternately copious without prt>- lixity, and concife without abruptnefs. The remaining poems of this author confift, 17?, Of three books of epigrams, containing about an hundred and eighty-fix articles, arf, His mifcellanies. This fecYion which contains thirty-eight pieces, fupplies us with fome of his principal efforts in Lyric poetry. 3^, His De Spb&- ra, in five books, perhaps the nobleft didactic poem in the world, and unqueflionably the moft fublime monu- ment of the genius of Buchanan. 4^, His four tragedies. 5*, His fatire on the Cardinal of Lorraine, and fome o- ther pieces not ufually arranged under any of the former fe&ions. Among thefe are his celebrated dedication of the PfaJms to Queen Mary, and a copy of verfes infcrib- ed to John Third of Portugal, which alone, had he com- pofed nothing elfe, would have entitled him to the cha- racter of a great poet. It is aftonifhing to confider what fplendor of fentiment, and luxuriance of imagery are com- prifed within twenty -two lines. It was my firfl defign to glance over thefe remaining fecYions, and hazard fome remarks on their merit. But the tafk is arduous, and it becomes neceffary to decline it. My chief intention was to excite a fpirit of popular curiofity concerning Buchanan's original poems. Forfince Ruddiman's edition in 1715, they have not been republifh- ed in North Britain. This circumflance is of itfelf fufficient to refute the vulgar conceit of Scottilh fuperiority in claffical learning. Of the people called men of letters, there are but a few who can read with facility the writers of ancient Rome. This ignorance at once accounts for the partial oblivion of a poet, who truly deferves that title. In every condition of life, the defponrding fludent, the fuccefsful ftatefman, the philofopher opprefled but not overwhelm- ed by the infirmities of age, he is always the fame enlight- HORACE, LIB. II. ODE XIII. 287 ened mafler of moral and political wifdom, the fame in- terefling painter of the fcenes and chara&ers of domeftic life, the fame incorruptible defender of the rights of man- kind. On every fubjeft his fentiments are diftinguifhed by a fuperior grafp of thought, his ftyle by dignity, pro- priety, and Cmplicity. Since the death of Buchanan two centuries have elapfed, and his country, fertile in pleafing writers of verfe, has not yet produced even, the fhadow of a rival*. HORACE, LIB. II. ODE XIII. THIS morning while I faunter'd round my fields, Enjoying every fwreet which fummer yields, A more delightful day was never feen, The corn fo yellow, and the grafs fo green. The grape and orange clufter'd in the grove, Ten thoufand linnets tun'd the tale of love; The amorous fhepherd pour'd his tender lay, While round his fteps he faw his lambkins play ; And, through the rofes, the brifk bee purfue Her pleafing toil to fip the mining dew ; The blue horizon not a cloud o'ercaft, The eaftern fun acrofs its bofom pafl ; In awful fplendour up the Heavns he roll'd, At fuch a fcene what fongfter could be cold ! With health and innocence, my heart was light, Nature's whole beauties burfling on my fight. * This article was drawn up at the particular defire of the writer of the preceding Remarks on Englifh Plays. To the fame critic, it has been indebted for a variety of corredions both in the matter and the ftyle. There is a curious circumftance refpe&ing our countryman ob- ferved by Dryden, " That Milton's defence of the Englilh people " is MANIFESTLY STOLEN from Buchanan, De Jure RegnL Apud " Scotos." 288 HORACE, LIB. II. ODE XIII. But mark what hazards mankind hourly run, Nor knows the wifeft all he ought to fhun. "Tis true, a failor fears the raging wave, A hero fights for conqueft, or the grave j Thie ves know their turn of Tyburn comes about, And fots, when fober, can forfee the gout ; But Death far other fates may foon afford Than florins, or gouts, the gallows, or the fword. For while fo cheerfully I mus'd along, My bofom heaving with the future fong, Homer himfelf came rufhing on my foul, And the fmooth verfe had juft begun to roll ; Befide an oak I fat me down to reft, Where fifty rooks had hung their airy nefl; When, (future ages tremble as ye read !) The faithlefs log fell thund'ring o'er my head. The rotten ftem with fuch a vengance broke, Scarce could my fpeed efcape the crafhing flroke : Ajax himfelf had funk with fuch a blow, And Hedor hafted to the {hades below. Good Heav'ns ! how nearly have I fhun'd the tomb. Where I and all mankind muft quickly come. Were Virgil's fine Elyfian fiftions true, What awful fcenes had open'd to my view, Where bards no more the flight of fummer mourn. Or dark December's terrible return ; No partial laws the wealthy rogue regard, But Vice and Virtue reap their full reward : .No pamper'd prince, with falivations pale, There fquanders half his kingdom at a meal ; There the wrong'd widow fhall no more complain, There the fad orphan finds his fire again. See Pcetus there his Arria's fteps attend, Brutus again embrace each long loft friend ; Cato dictator in the bleft abodes, Horace recanting fome ebfequious odes. 189 I hear fweet Sappho pour her plantive flrain,* While keen Repentance racks her favage fwain ; And thou, fad Ovid, thy long exile paft, In happier regions haft arr'rvM at laft. What bitter pangs the banifh'd wretch await, The guilt of war, the tnadnefs of the great, 'The fall of tyrants fwell thy lofty fong, While to thy deep-ton'd voice the fhades attentive throng. Lo ! fierce Tifiphone to pity charmed, Of half her fury fees herfelf difarm'd^ Tityus no more his vultures feems to feel, Enraptur'd Ixion refts upon bis wheel-:; Great Julius, with each note forgets to groan, And Nero vaunts fuch verfes were his own ; While, funk in flames at hell's remoteft bound, The mean Oc\avius trembles at the found. ON WINTER. THOUGH you nor gamble, wench, nor drink. And fcorn to play the fophift's tune, You tell me you fincerely think December juft as fweet as June. Darknefs, when debauchees defire, The wifdom of their choice we know ; And pedants, by a tavern fire, May laugh at cold, and froft, and fnovffv . * But were they wearied, fhivering, wet, Behind the plow-fhare, and, like me, JEoliis fidibus querentem Sappho puellis de popularibus. A natural topic for a female pen. The ladies hare, in all age% been famous for MUTUAL AKTIFATHY, and Sappho'j aawori af. forded food for fcandal. Bb 290 VIEW OF SOCIETY. For coals and candles deep in debt, The curfe of Winter they would fee. And though your pious 'blank-verfe bard Thinks admiration fuch a duty, When Boreas in my face blows hard, I bid the Devil take his beauty. Rejoice with him in rattling fhow'rs, And tempefts terribly fublime ; But give me funmine, grafs, and flow'rss And. Summer blufhing in his prime. And mould a tertian or the gout O'ercafl your Chriftmas with a gloom, When May-day puts difeafe to rout, You'll know the worth of nature's bloom. A VIEW OF SOCIETY IN THE SOUTH OF EUROPE. SOME Englifh fchool-boys who go there to dance, Prefer the climate, language, tafle of France ; But who from Paris would not turn his back, That recollefts the Baftile and the Rack ? There all the rights of mankind are a jeft, And truth and learning trampled by the priefl.* When others figh for Italy and Spain, The fame fad flory may be told again ; The mildeft iky, the moft luxuriant foil, Can fcarce repay the wretched peafant's toil ; The tawdry nobles, a voracious croud, And monks by millions feafl upon his blood. Nor in her marines would I chufe to live For all the gold that Holland has to give ; * Thefe lines were written before the late revolution, fo pertly reprobated by an Irifli orator. VIEW 0? SOCIETY. 2gt Some burfting flood your villa may furround, *uin iiuii the nation in an hour be drown'd: A fecond Louis may your province feize, Or brutal Burghers cruui you when they pleafe. When rage once kindles in their foggy brains, Nor earth, nor hell, a madder mob contains. The native chains of Greece we know by rote, But every BafTa there may eut your throat. The fpirit of Lycurgus hath expir'd, ', \.i\ And all the wit antiquity admir'd ; And every vice corrupts the coward breaft Which meannefs genders in a mind dcprefs'd. Nor dream of Sicily's delightful plains, There Popifli tyranny triumphant reigns ; Ferocious bravoes for your blood confptre, And every mountain fhakes with inward fire Where Carthage, Athens, Rome, for empire fought, The poor remains of pomp need fcarce be fought; Majeftic ruins o'er the defart fpread, Form a fad fhelter to the fhepherd's fhed , Let pettifli Scots for Caledonia plead, But freedom hardly ventures north of Tweed ; O'er civil pleas the fherriff nods alone, In thefe the right of jury is unknown. Each well contefted point his lordlhip clears, In five or thirty or an hundred years. The man who takes a flieep muft ftretch a cord, For him no mercy Juftice can afford, Though 'twas rank hunger forc'd the wretch to fleal, And five young beggars bawling for a meal ; But when fome drab commits the fouleft crime, Which ever blacken'd the records of time, Like Jafon's far fam'd concubine, deftroys The guiltlefs fruit of all her former joys, Then my Lord Advocate, his fenfc to fhow, To fome lefs baleful climate bids her go. By every petty Laird at will oppreft, Can their pale pleafantry be counted blcft ? Bbi] 2$2 HORACE, LIB. IV. ODE VII* Shoals, wanting food, to feek fome kinder fty, Like felons from a jail, their thanklefs country fly. Then let us all be happy we're at home, !Nor feek repofe at Paris or at Rome. With one great truth contented we may reft, No ftate on earth was e'er completely bleft ; And, though we fearch our fcurvy globe around", So fortunate a fpot will fcarce be found. That England's deep in debt we don't deny, Prelates and beggars tax us very high ; Each bankrupt gamefler to the Hoitfe may run, And bid defiance to the boldcft dun : But flill our precious laws exert their powery To prop the reputation of a who*e : And fhould fomc parfon in due rev'rence fail, The rogue mull for a twelvemonth rot in jail. And pay, betides, the blufhing fair a fine, For daring her chafle name to undermine ! Should Honour in his bofom make a ftand, And reafon linger erejie leaves the land^ Some brazen featur'd hireling bears him down, And vindicates the virgin of the town 1 By fuch fublime decifions, who can wonder When wives and maidens chance to make a blunder. If our fage legiflators o'er and o'er, Aflert there's no dijftin&ion lei's or more ! Who but mull hear the faft with admiration, And glory in defcent from fuch a nation ! HORACE, LIB. IV. ODE VII. RETURNING fpring the-fwain with rapture fees, Their lovely foliage open* on the trees. The fnows on yon bleak fummit melt away, Reviving nature hails th' extending day ; The teeming earth difpbys her verdant pride, Within their banks the ilreams- decreaGug glide j. ON POETRT. The froft is foften'd by the weftern wind, Spring blooms, and Summer follows clofe behind. Anon rich harveft heaps the bufy plain, And favage Winter fweeps the grove again. Thefe ever circling feafons of the year, Reminds us nothing is immortal here ! The moon repairs her wanings in the fky, But, we alas ! when once our afhes lye Where kings and heroes fink in endlefs night, No more can vifit the reviving light. And who hath learn'd, that Fortune mall allow Another hour of life to me or you? Then Cnce the farce muft quickly have an end, Enjoy your wealth with each deferving friend. Your heir nor wonder when you hear it told, Will hardly thank you for the mafs of gold. And when the turf is plac'd upon your head, In vain would eloquence your pardon plead ; In vain to virtue, riches, fame, you truft, Not Rome herfelf can raife you from the dull. Monks may detail fuch nonfenfe if they can, But nature fcorns to leave her common plan : Not all his wit for Shakefpeare could atone, And fools muft go where former fools have gone. Brave Wolfe fhall never burft the bonds of death, Nor England's tears recall her Howard's breath. ON POETRY, ONE reafon why fo many poets tire, In quartos they fuppofe we fhould admire, Is, that while planning an immortal fong, They chufe a theme too lofty, or too long. What human bellows are not fick to death, Bawling three thoufand verfes at a breath. That Homer often lags, his friends allow, Ten poems muft have charm'd us more than two.' Bbiij 204 ON FOETRY.- 'Twas pity he forgot the Golden Fleece, And other famous feats of fighting Greece ? And all are forry when his Iliad's done, That Nell and Troy are neither loft nor won. "Why force UlyfTes fo far into vogue, Six books might well have ferv'd that vagrant rograe^ Lucretius chofe a topic too fublime, Which cannot be furvey'd on this fide time j And mad aflertion taking boundlefs fcope, Deforms the motely maflerpiece of Pope j- The dullefl of us all would laugh to hear, That truth,. in fpite of reafcn, can be clear I I wifh, in failing, to keep fight of land, And flmt a book I feldom underfland. Avoid with equal care the tragic fchool, "Where modern wits have alfo playM the fooL Unlefs you wifh to be the common fport, Above all points be certain to be fhort. * A tale when drawn to more than common lengthy Has fair lytir'd Herculean Shakefpeare-s ftrength* Another fault too eommonly we find, That no connection captivates the mind ; Though fplendid paragraphs perhaps appear, They tumble in, no matter when or where j What follows never ufher'd by the paft, Since the firft period might fucceed the laft. In Horace, for example, you may fee, And more than once, one ode compos'd of th*ee ; Of this, and every poffible mijftake, Models from Dryden's ftorehoufe you may take. Canute, the Danifh conqueror, thought otherwife, and or der- d a poet to be put to death for having dared to celebrate his valour in a SHORT copy of verfes, " BRSVIS CANTILENAS." The author obtained a refpite ; produced, next day, thirty additional ilanzas, and was rewarded with fifty merks of fine Clver ; a round fum in thofe ages. See Wartojj's Hiftory of Englifh Poetry, ON POETRT. 395 For fach a fault no elegance atones, To build is more than merely heaping flonesv Juft thereverfe of many a modern bard, Let reafon occupy your firfl regard ; Nor with rough Churchill at your fpeeies fcold, Nor yet in panegyric be too bold. Exalt no Gzfar to the bright abodes, Or, if you muft be da-mn'd, read Mafon's Odes j Hark how he fings, fo admirably fweet, That common fenfe falls charm'd at folly's feet r To praife the poets of the prefent age, Be fure you never blot a fecond page. Nor leek by drawl mg epithets to mine, Nor let inAGE. THE progrefs of virginity, a tale, 5 Peculiar difadvantages of a modern poet, 8 On good nature, n Jufiter and the frogs, a talc, 13 All's well that ends well, 14 On the death of a friend, 16 A poetical profpeft, 18 The volunteer, 20 The dignity of human nature, or a paneygyric upon the world, 21 The magpie, a tale for the critics, 24. On the lofs of ancient literature, 26 Horace, book i. ode i. 27 An occasional epilogue to the tragedy of Douglas, 30 Prologue, on the falling of the gallery of Dumfries The- atre, on the 1 4th June 1780, 31 Verf^s written in a fine fummer morning, 32 Prickle, a character, 33 Common fenfe, 34 The prirnum mobile, 35 On the diverfitics of life, ib. To the male virgins, 3g On poetical fame, 40 An index to female virtue, 41 All for the beil, 44 The progrefs of moral fenubility, 4j Ocle to innocence, from the Latin of Secundus, 47 Ode to fleep, from the fame, 48 From the fame, 45 The pulpit orator, 50 December, a panegyric, ji Venes infcnbed to John Hamilton, Archbifhop of St. Andrew's, from thg Latin of Buchanan, 53 An epitaph, ib, CONTENTS. 333- FACE. To the Printer of the Bath Chronicle, 54 On the Merchant of Venice, 56 On the new fettlemen-t of Botany Bay, 57 On Allan Ramfay, 60 The law-fuit, a tale from Bueharfan, lib. i. epig. i. 63 On the character of a wife, 64 On reading the memoirs of Frederick III. 67 On nothing, 69 The winter day, or a profpeft of life, 70 Buchanan, lib. 3. epig. i. 74 Horace, lib. 3. ode 26. ib. An elegy, from the Latin of Politian^ 75 A hint for country gentlemen) 77 Horace, lib. i. ode i. ib. : lib. i. ode 2. 79 lib. i. ode 3. o The monitor, 84 On Shakefpeare, 85 Verfes on friendihip, 88 On David Hume, Efq. $6 On the vanity of ambition, ib Horace, lib. i. ode 4. 98 "i lib. i. ode 5. 99 On reading the Beaux Stratagem, 100 Horace, lib. i. ode 6. ib On the power of wealth, 102 Horace, lib. i. ode 7. 103 On frugality, 104 Horace, lib. i. ode 8. i6 On popery, 107 Horace, lib. i. ode n. 109 .... .-- lib. i. ode 1 6. ib. - ~ lib. i. epitl. 4. in On Julius Czfar, na The progreis of liberty, 113 On Dryden, 1 1 J The wife man, ib. 334 CONTENTS* FACE. Hemarlcs on Englifh plays, 117 . Remarks on Young's Night Thoughts, 157 On the Life of Samuel Johnfon, L. L. D. by James Bofwell, Efq. 163 On Philip Maflinger, 165 The friend, ancient and modern, 169 Horace, lib. i. ode 18. 173 - - lib. i. ode ij. 175 The comforts of marriage, a tale r ib. Theocritus, idyllium 30. i 77 A trite truth, 175 The world as it goes, iRo The philofopher, ifia The fairy queen, a tale, 184 Strut, a character, 192 On the novels of Dr. Smollet, .. 194 Political queries, 195 On female frailty, 198 On hard drinking,. i gg -A fragment, ib. Horace, lib. i. ode 27. aoo A parallel between riches and poverty, from the Greek of Rhianus, 201 Nothing new, 202 Ci itical remarks on fome of the moft eminent hiflo rians of England, v 203 Horace, lib. j. epode 15. 210 The progrefs of merit, 211 Horace, lib. 4. ode 9. 216 On idlenefs, 217 Ou wrangling, 218 A dream, from the Latin of Buchanan, 219 On the abufe of time, '221 Horace, lib. i. ode 29. 223 Horace, lib. i. ode 33. 225 The patriot, 226 On the importance and origin of drefs, 232 CONTEST*. 335 PAGE. Horace, lib. 2. ode 4. 234. The newfpaper, or a peep at the literary world, 235 A charadler, 244 Memoirs of the life, chara&cr, and writings of George < Buchanan, 247 Horace, lib. 2. ode 13. 287 On winter, 289 A view of fociety in the Couth of Europe, 290 Horace, lib. 4. ode 7. 293 On poetry, 293 Epitaph, imitated from Buchanan, 298 The farewell, from the Latin of Secundus, 3op from the fame, 301 From the fame, ib. From the fame, 302 Horace, lib. i. epift. 2. ib. Sketches of celebrated characters, ancient and modern, 307 Advice to the fex, 319 The prefent flate of Parnaflus, gzi Introductory verfes to the Francifcan, a poem, 327 *Conclufion of the firfl book De Sphasra, from the La- tin of Buchanan, 395 TO THE PUBLIC. BUCHANAX is one of thofe few happy writers of verfe wliofe power of pleafmg remains undiminimed by the lapfc of ages. Yet while the Engliih nation are inceflantly pub- lifhing the mofl elegant and fplendid editions of their im- mortal Shakefpeare, it is painful and humiliating for a North Briton to reflect that the original poems of Buchan- an, the favourite, not of this country alone, but of Europe, have remained unprinted in a Scottifh prefs for feventy- Cx years. This negleft arifes not from our want of mo- ney, for we are daily printing whole libraries on every fubjed. It ought not to be from our want of tafle, fince we have deafened both ourfelves and our neighbours with volumes of metaphyfical criticifm. The caufe of this par- tial oblivion has already been mentioned [p. 286.], and the Editor begs leave to fuggefl an eafy and effectual me- thod to remove it. The Reader has already had opportunities of obferving how the poetry of Buchanan appears in the drefs of Eng- lifh profe. A complete tranflation of his original poems, on this plan, would render the Latin text perfectly intel- ligible to the mofl carelefs fludent. A few notes might be convenient; though to an author fo remarkably perfpicu- ous, they could not be termed neceflary, Thefe, toge- ther with the text, and propofed verflon, might be com- prifed within two oftavo volumes of about the fame fize with that elegant edition of the poems of Offian, lately publifhed by the printer of this volume. On this fubjedl he has already had the honour of converfing with feveral gentlemen who have agreed to fubfcribe on the mofl libe- ral terms. But before lie engages ferioufly in an under- taking fo laborious and expenfive, he wimes to learn the general opinion of the public. He is aware of the diffi- culty of producing a popular work of this nature*; but if fuitable encouragement mall be offered, his fubfcribers may dependjon thefincerity ofhiswifhes to deferve their appro- bation, and the vigour of his exertions to acquire it. Vide an Effay on the Principles of Tranflation, lately publillied, a per* {nuance which contains both curious information, and ufcful iiiftructian. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY Return this material to the library * > ...HI oh it was borrowed. UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACIl , A nnn nnn 3NV-soi^ %zHAJNft-3V^ v ^Awyaii^ ^ BRARY0/- ^llBRARYQr j ir^ i a Jl? i i s I s:lOS-ANCEl 1 I DWSOV*^ L 5? ^ lOS-ANCEU Uni\ 6