moft people in France it was called la chimere de M. Saxe. However, he imbarked fome troops, and with them 10,000 faddles for horfes which he was to find here. I fuppofe that our Jacobites affured him, that our horfes were Jacobites; for I am fure they reprefented many of our men as fuch, with lefs reafon. None of our horfes, I believe, ever faid they were not Jacobites, no not even that learned horfe which was the wonder of our learned perfons of quality; but most of our men whom our Jacobites reprefented as fuch, had not only faid, but fworn, that they were not Jacobites; nay, they had done more, they had declared they were not Jaco. bites. But thofe British winds which fo opportunely declared themselves against Jacobitifm at the time of the revolution, continue ftill, it feems, in the fame fentiments; for they put an end to M. Saxe's Tir'd with thy freaks, the hopeless chace give o'er: The prize, pleas'd with the chace, and quit the Thus fares the love which Fancy's bofom fires, Friendship alone the facred charm imparts To Chloe, at her lodge fo fweet in chimera [vi. 145.]. Again, in the year W-97, (that's year and day), 1745, when the young pretender, the young adventurer, as they call him, was here, the French, I know, were invited to invade us. But the French and our Jacobites here difagreed about who should begin. The Jacobites infifted that the French fhould first invade: on the other hand, the French infifted that the Jacobites fhould first rise in arms; which the Jacobites in this part of the united kingdom refufed, in which they acted more wifely than their friends did in Scotland, as appeared from the fequel; which was a new proof that the French court will never seriously think of invading this country, whilft they believe that our government will be supported by the people; and I fhall never be for giving them any ground to believe otherwife; for which reason I must be against agreeing to the Noble Lord's motion. [This Journal to be continued.] For the SCOTS MAGAZINE, if it shall be thought worthy of a place there. If not, let it be committed to the fire.- It was its author's fate, to confume in a hopeless flame. A farewell to FANTASTIC LOVE, and a young coquette, the object of it. The vifion's fled; I've broke the charm at Your letter fafe was brought by Peter, From London, (mind they are but lent ye), Harvey; (which by the by's but fo fo); I call'd last night at Mrs Lynch's, Devoted Servant, THO' the proud dome, and seulptur'd form declare, Immortal SHAKESPEAR thy peculiar care; If fouls departed human feelings know, His mufe, ere you ftept forth, her cause to own, Wept her neglected charms, and worth unknown; Sunk in obfcurity, forfaken lay, And mourn'd the night, defpairing of the day. This you beheld; and haft'ning to her aid, Brought back in triumph the much injur❜d maid; Taught her with height'ned grace the stage to tread, And brighter laurels twin'd around her head. Touch'd by thy hand, her charms new ftrength Strike ev'ry eye, and ev'ry bosom fire; (acquire, Again, apparent queen! the thires confeft, Radiant as Venus by the graces drest. (ceal'd, Thus heav'n-born Truth in Stygian gloom conTime drew to light, and all her charms reveal'd. Then ceafe by needless acts thy zeal to show, Thy idol bard to thee his fame muft owe. No temple need thy piety to taife, No proud memorial to record his praife. And SHAKESPEAR still survives ador'd in you. On SPRIN G. Once more indulge thy friendly aid, Oft as the fragrant breathing spring Lo! Beauty spreads her foftest charms; And Harmony each bofom warms. Love, Beauty, Harmony, no more Your facred infl'ence makes me bleft; The charms I wont erewhile t'adore, Can give no pleasure to my breaft. From my dear MARY far remov'd, All Nature's joys are loft to me: Thou ever dear, and best belov'd! May all her bleffings wait on thec. Bloom fweet, ye fields where MARY ftrays, In robes of gayeft green appear; Ye birds, attune your fofteft lays, And with your mule charm her ear. Ye groves, extend your grateful shade, And breathe ambrosial fragrance round; Your fairest charms, gay Flora, fpread, And strew with sweetest flowers the ground. With pleafing murmurs fadly fweet, Ye cryftal rills, obfequious flow, If evening mild my fair invite Along your flow'ry banks to go. Favonian airs, wave foft your wing, And round my charmer gently play: And all that's lovely, fweet, and gay. R. S. She was mild, affable, and chearful; Characters, &c. of DOUGLAS, a tragedy, IT T was the practice of the ancients, to addrefs their compofitions only to friends and equals; and to render their dedications, monuments of regard and affection, not of fervility and flattery. In those days of ingenuous and candid liberty, a dedication did honour to the perfon to whom it was addreffed, with out degrading the author. If any partiality appeared towards the patron, it was at least the partiality of friendship and affection. Another inftance of true liberty, of which ancient times can alone afford us an example, is the liberty of thought; which engaged men of letters, however different in their abftract opinions, to maintain a mutual friendship and regard; and never to quarrel about principles, while they agreed in inclinations and manners. Science was often the fubject of difputation, never of animofity. Cicero, an Academic, addreffed his philofophical treatifes, fometimes to Brutus, a Stoic; fometimes to Atticus, an Epi curean. engaged me to make this addrefs to you, : I own too, that I have the ambition to be the first who fhall in public express his admiration of your noble tragedy of Douglas one of the most interesting and pathetic pieces that was ever exhibited on any theatre. Should I give it the preference to the Merope of Maffei, and to that of Voltaire, which it resembles in its fubject; should I affirm, that it contained more fire and fpirit than the former, more tenderness and fimplicity than the latter; I might be accused of partiality and how could I entirely acquit myself, after the profeffions of friendship which I have made you? But the unfeigned tears which flowed from every eye, in the numerous reprefentations which were made of it on this theatre; the unparallelled command which you appeared to have over every affection of the human breast; these are incontestable proofs, that you poffefs the true theatrical genius of Shakespear and Otway, refined from the unhappy barbarifm of the one, and licentioufness of the other. I have been seized with a ftrong defire of renewing these laudable practices of antiquity, by addreffing the following differtations to you, my good friend: My enemies, you know, and I own for fuch I will ever call and esteem you, even fometimes my friends, have renotwithstanding the oppofition which proached me with the love of paradoxes prevails between us, with regard to ma- and fingular opinions; and I expect to ny of our speculative tenets. Thefe dif- be expofed to the fame imputation, on ferences of opinion I have only found account of the character which I have to enliven our conversation; while our here given of your Douglas. I fhall be common paffion for fcience and letters told, no doubt, that I had artfully choferved as a cement to our friendship. I fen the only time when this high esteem ftill admired your genius, even when I of that piece could be regarded as a paimagined, that you lay under the influ- radox, to wit, before its publication; ence of prejudice; and you fometimes and that not being able to contradict, in told me, that you excufed my errors, this particular, the fentiments of the puon account of the candor and fincerity blic, I have, at leaft, refolved to go which, you thought, accompanied them. fore them. But I fhall be amply comBut to tell truth, it is lefs my admi- penfated for all thefe pleafantries, if you ration of your fine genius, which has accept this teftimony of my regard, and VOL. XIX. U U be believe believe me to be, with the greatest fin- terefting, would greatly diminish our cerity, dear Sir, your most affectionate pleasure in the representation. friend, and humble fervant, Edin. Jan. 3. 1757. DAVID HUME. CRITICAL REVIEW, March 1757. These critics begin this article with quoting the paffage of Mr Hume's de-, dication which ends, I might be accufed of partiality [293], and then fay, And fo indeed, in our opinion, he might, with great juftice: for though we are ready to allow much to the bias of friendship and affection, yet would we beg leave to put this author in mind, that there is fomething alfo due to truth, tafte, and judgment, which we cannot think any man hath a right to facrifice, even to the most intimate private con nections." They next obferve, that the wellknown line in Horace, Neve minor, neu fit quinto productior aðtu, though adopted by modern critics as an inconteftable maxim, has fpoiled many more good plays than it has made; that it was a law utterly unknown to the mafters of the Grecian theatre, thofe models of perfection; that their tragedies confifted of one continued act, longer or fhorter according to the fubject, together with the occafional interruption of the chorus; that there can be no more impropriety in a tragedy of three acts than in a comedy of two, many of which have been lately feen; and that the univerfal opinion concerning the fmall merit of the two firft acts of Douglas, makes it prefumable that this piece might admit of fome contraction. They then proceed to examine feparately the fable, characters, fentiments, and diction. We refer to the fable as already inferted from the Gentleman's Magazine [138.], and fhall give the Critical Reviewers examination in their own words, viz. The friking resemblance of the plot, in its principal features, to others which have been fo lately treated by our modern tragic poets *, were it ever fo in *It is fo like Merope [xi. 190.], especially in the beginning, that it is impoffible not to feel the fimilitude: the fentiments must be confequently The difcovery is, perhaps, made too early, and cafts a difagreeable fhade over all the other scenes. The catastrophe is awkwardly brought about, the jealoufy of Randolph too precipitately caught, and without foundation. Befides that it doth not fufficiently appear what advantages Glenalvon would reap from the effects of this difcord, as it might poffibly have ended, not only in the deftruction of Norval, (or Douglas), but alfo in the death of Matilda, the woman he loved. To this we may add, that the fate of Douglas and Matilda, who are both innocent, is fcarce reconcileable with poetical juftice, which feems to have been violated by their deaths; fo that the audience have reafon to cry out with Lady Randolph †, Hear, Juftice, hear; are these the fruits of virtue? As to the characters, there is fcarce one in it, except Douglas; which indeed is tolerably well fupported. The fentiments which we meet with in this tragedy, though but thinly fown, are for the most part adapted to the characters, and make their appearance with fome degree of propriety; and to them it is, in our opinion, that Douglas is principally indebted for its fuccefs. When Lady Randolph tells us, in the first act, that fhe took an equivocal oath the never would marry (because at this time fhe was already married) one of Douglas's name, fhe adds the following reflection, which naturally arifes on the occafion, What Anna fays on the pleasure Lady Randolph took in looking on young Norval, before she knew him to be her fon, is extremely pretty: How fondly did your eyes devour the boy! On his piercing eye Sat Obfervation*; on each glance of thought When the hears the news of the landing Thefe, with fome other ftrokes of nature equally pleafing and juft, pleaded ftrongly with the audience in favour of Douglas. In regard to the diction of this tragedy, we fhall only obferve, that though it is the part in which its moft fanguine admirers have placed its greatest merit, we cannot agree with them in this determination. With fuperficial judges, as ranting will pafs for paffion, and bombaft for fublimity, low and vulgar expreffion may also be mistaken for fimplicity. From a ftudious affectation of this, an author may often deviate into very mean and fervile language. For inftance: Lady Randolph tells us, that war with foreign foes is not fo hateful As that which with our neighbours oft we wage. and, by way of informing us fhe was with child, she says, fhe was As women with to be that love their lords. Says Anna, The hand that fpins th'uneven thread of life, May fmooth the length that's yet to come of yours. When I had feiz'd the dame, by chance he came, Refcu'd, and had the lady for his labour. * This feems to have been borrowed from Milton: On his brow Deliberation fat, and public care. Paradife Loft. The first of these verses rhymes like the old monkish tales, and in the fecond is a vulgar expreffion. The blefs'd above upon their golden beds ‡. When the prisoner is brought in, in the beginning of the third act, he cries Honey'd affent! How pleafing art thou to the taste of man, And woman alfo?] A rude and boift'rous captain of the sea Let no man after me a woman wed, (brings * Whose heart he knows he has not, tho' fhe A mine of gold. You look (Jays Glenalvon to Norval) The lines above quoted may, for ought we know, be much extolled by fome critics; and Mr David Hume, may, if he pleafes, call them a close imitation of nature, and a pattern of true fimplicity: we fhould notwithstanding rather be inclined to rank them in the number of vulgarifms, and much beneath the dignity of tragical expreffion. Douglas, upon the whole, with all its imperfections, (and what piece is without fome ?), is infinitely fuperior to Barbaroffa, Athelstan, and the reft of thofe flimly performances with which we have been vifited for fome years paft: and if the author is careful to improve that genius for dramatic writing which is vifible in this effay, we have reason to expect fomething that may do ftill more honour to the English ftage. We should not indeed have dwelt fo long on the little obvious faults to be found in this tragedy, had not Mr David Hume, What ideas can we form of ease and pleafure in lying on a golden bed? Which we may fuppofe was accompanied with a bolster of adamant, and marble pillows, for foftness. He might as well have gone on, and said, ay and of children too. * Here ten long words do creep in one dull line. We meet alfo with, timeless death, the tip-toe of expectation, array'd in nature's cafe, water-wafted armies, the wicket of the heart, &c. which we cannot greatly admire. whofe U u 2 |