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eir finding son I join
the map. With regard to Canada, ea I therefore think it evident, Sir, from
very one knows, that, for four or five the very nature of things, that if we na.
months of the year, all access to it is had taken this method of beginning and
cut off by the ice; and for the other prosecuting the war, we might, in two cs of
months, which are the lighteft, every or three years, have so diltreffed their
ship must pass either by the gut of Can- colonies upon the continent of North Aaffive fa, or between Cape Breton and New. merica, that they would have been glad ation foundland, or by the streights of Belle- to have furrendered to us their colony
isle. The gut of Canfo is not above of Canada, in order to save their colony ealou
two or three miles over, and confe. of Misfilippi and their sugar islands;
quently onę cruiser would prevent a fin. for these too would have been reduced nation,
gle ship's palling that way. The pal- to great diftrefs, because our privateers nfiftent
fage between the easternmost point of would have fwarmed fo about them, nd, to Cape Breton, and the westernmost point that it would have been very difficult tinent. of Newfoundland, is not fifty miles.o- for them to get any supply of provisions tes with ver; and therefore four or five cruisers, or ammunition: and thus we might, in opinion, stationed there,' would render it almost a few years, have put a glorious end to ga jul impossible for a single ship to pass; and the war, without any great expence, e to jois
a fleet could not approach either of and without expofing our armies to the s ; for if thofe paffages without being discover fatigue and danger of marching two or , po pre. ed by some of our fishing vessels up. three hundred miles, by land, through
on the banks, and intelligence thereof a wild, desert, and impracticable coun
given to our fquadron at Louisburg. try, to attack the forts which the French king, that The only passage then left is by the have lately built in America ; and with repri- streights of Belleifle; and that passage which, if reduced, could be of very litThould have lies so far north, that it can never be at- tle advantage to us, unless we likewise of war, and tempted but in the height of summer; fubdued the colony of Canada itself, ith as fudden - and, during that time, a man of war or But, by our reprisals, we have given
two, with a small cruiser from Louisburg, the French the alarm, fo that by this le for us to ftationed at the south-west end of those time I reckon they have so well furnishtowards us in freights, would probably intercept eve- ed all their colonies with troops, ammunce have jufti ry ship that attempted to pass, as the nition, and provisions, that we cannot and the forts ftreights are not above ten miles over, propose to reduce any of them by fa. but are above fixty in length.
and I believe we shall now find Thus, Sir, we might, in two or three it both difficult and expensive to reduce they were not
years time, by mere famine alone, re- any of them, especially Cape Breton,
delaying to do, what will contribute to.
upon them in
n the lake Erie
cope any colour
war in this mana g before the end een again in pol of Cape Breton ;
again recover ifand, a strong Imall cruisers, fta and another strong
small cruisers, ftan jould have made it rench to have sent
reinforcements, ei. s in Canada, or 10 sve of late years to
em to citablish at the Cilippi, as every gen.
a bare inspection of
wards encouraging seamen to enter into STANZAS written by Lord CAPEL, when e. the government's service, or towards prisoner inthetower during Cromwel's ufurpation. encouraging landmen to betake them. Best en curled waves, high as Jove's roof; ; selves to the rea-service; both which
Your incivilities do plainly show, will, I am convinced, be the effect of
That innocence is tempest-proof. the bill proposed; and therefore I shall Tho'surly Nereus frowns, my thoughts are calm: most heartily agree to the Noble Lord's Then strike, Amiction; for thy wounds are balm. motion. [This Journal to be continned.] That which the world miscalls a jail,
A private closet is to me:
Whillt a good conscience is my bail, To the author of the Scots MAGAZINE. And innocence my liberty, SIR, Perthshire, Feb. 1757.
Locks, bars, and solitude, together '
met, Noculating for the small pox is found Make me no pris'ner, but an anchoret. so useful, that I cannot but regret
Here sin, for want of food, must starve,
Where tempting objects are not seen; should, because of the expence attende
And these strong walls do only ferve ing it, and their distance from surgeons, To keep rogues out, and keep me in: be out of the reach of poor highlanders ; Malice is now grown charitable
, sure ; among whom, in a neighbouring pa- I'm not committed, but I'm kept secure. rish, this dreadful disease makes great ha
And whilft I with to be retir'd, vock. Might not inoculating be learn
Into this private room I'm turn'd;
As if their wisdom had confpir'd, ed, as well as blood-letting, midwife
The salamander should be burn'd.. ry, &c. without the knowledge of the Or, like those sophists who would drown a fillon other parts of surgery? or might not I am condemn'd to suffer what I wilh. persons of prudence and discretion, by The Cynic hugs his poverty, the help of some general directions, The pelican her wilderness; perform this operation ? Humanity
And 'tis the Indian's pride to be would, one should think, induce those
Naked on frozen Caucasus : who have it in their power, to contri. Contentment feels no fmart Stoics
, we fee,
Make torments easy by their apathy. bute to the saving so many lives; and
I'm in this cabinet lock'd up, public spirit should be a further induce- Like some high-prized margarite; ment, at this time, when they are drain, Or like some Great Mogul or Pope, ing the highlands of so many men to
I'm cloister'd up from public sight: Terve in his Majesty's army. Could the Retir'dness is a part of majesty, bad effects of this terrible disease be And thus, proud Sultan, I'm as great as theca
These manacles prevented, the highlands might, like
I as my mistress' favours wear; the northern hive of old, pour forth And for to keep mine ancles warm, swarms fufficient to supply the loss of I have fome iron shackles there : Tuch as are killed by war abroad or by. These walls are but my garrison ; this cell, luxury at home. If a hint to this Which men call jail, doth prove my citadel
, purpose were inserted in the Scots Ma- Thus he that struck at Jason's life, gazine, it might possibly fall into the
Thinking to make his purpose sure;
By a malicious friendly knife, hands of some, who, blessed with com
Did only wound him to his cure : passion, public spirit, and power, might Malice, we fie, wants wit; for what is meant contribute towards so good a design. Mischief, oft-times proves favour by th' event.
Although I cannot see my King,
Neither in person, nor in coin; Written under the first examination of Damien.
Yet contemplation is a thing Non, non ; ce traitre, ce parjure
That renders what I have not, mine: N'a ni complice, ni parti :
My King from me no adamant can part,
Whom I do wear engraven in my heart.
Have you not heard the nightingale,
A pris'ner close kept in a cage; No: 'twas the traitor's single plan,
How the doth chant her wonted tale, And he by no advice was mov'd:
In that her narrow hermitage? Nature ne'er form'd another man
Ev'n that her melody doth plainly prove, By whom the King was not belov’d. Her boughs are trees, her cage a pleasant grove.
I am that bird which they combine
Extract from a poem on the barbarities of the And though my corpse they can confine,
French, and their favage allies and
profelytes, on Yet maugre that my soul is free :
the frontiers of Virginia. By Sam. Davies, A. M. Tho' I'm mew'd up, yet I can chirp and sing, Disgrace to rebels, glory to my King.
Our peaceful frontiers døench'd with Bria My soul is free as is th’ambient air,
lifh blood. Which doth my outward parts include ;“. There Horror rangd, and her dire ensigns bore, Whilft loyal thoughts do fill repair,
Raw scałps her trophies, ftiff with clotted gore; To 'company my folitude.
The heart and bowels smoking on the ground, What tho' they do with chains my body bind? Still warm with life, and mangled corpses round. My King can only captivate my mind.
There buzzards rior, and each ravonous fowl, In some copies of this poem the following stanza And all the monsters of the desert howl, is inserted between the seventh and eighth:
the naked bones, there mix in fight, When once my prince affliction hath,
Like Gallic tyrants, for their neighbour's right, Prosperity doth treason feem;
See yopder cottage, once the peaceful seat And for to fmooth fo rough a path,
Of all the pleasures of the nuptial state.
The sturdy son, the prattling infant, there, But now to suffer shews a legal part; (smart.
And spotless virgin, bless’d the happy pair. When kings want ease, subjects must learn to
In gentle Sleep, undreaming ill, they lay;
But oh! no more to fee the chearful day. But this stanza utterly destroys the uniformity of Mad with the paffionis of an Indian soul, the poem, and is inconsistent with every other part The tawny furies in the thickets prowł, of it. The design of the whole is, to represent as Thro' the dark night, and watch the dawn of benefits, what had by his enemies been intended as To spring upon their unsuspecting prey. (day, punishments; and to foew, that “ Malice wants The musket's deadly funnd, or morder's screams, wit to effe&t its purpose." But this fianza contains Alarm the slumb’rers, and break off their dreams. an acknowledgment, that Malice has effected its They start, and struggle, but in vain the Atrife, purpose upon bim; that he suffers; and that it is fit To save their own, a child's, or parent's life, be should suffer. For this reason, and because it is Or dearer still, a tender bleeding wife. not in all copies, it is omitted in this, either as
Now mingling blood with blood, confus'd they composed by the autbor, and afterwards rejected
, or And blended in promiscuous carnage
lie. (die, as interpolated by some other. Gent. Mag.
Brains, heart, and bowels, lwind in streams of
gore, N. B. Our readers have formerly seen another Besmear the walls, and mingle on the floor. copy of this poem, ascribed 10 a loyalist of our own Men, children, houses, cattle, harveits, all, country. [x. 278.]
In undistinguishing destrucțion fall.
Th’iofernal favages lift up the yell, To the Lords of the Amy [45.]
And ronsc the terrors of the lowest hell: My Lords,
Suck the fresh wound, in bloody puddles (will, IS the humble opinion of us the court
And thence imbibe a fiercer rage to kill. 'T'S martial,
From the raw scull the hairy scalp they teat, (A court of f all courts most furely impartial!)
And the dire pledge in favage triumph wear. That ABG his utmolt did not
But see! on Monong ala's fatal banks, To engagemand adjudge him for that to be shot. Blood Row in larger streams, and thicker ranks But to palliate his crime, with def'rence we shew, of heroes fall
. Unfortunately brave,
Braddock alone was honour'd with a grave;
And there, uncoffin'd and unshrouded, iaid. (And how tle plague could hef far in the rear!) There Halket, Shirley, there a nun'rous bandi That clearly to us he appear'd in this light,
of brave Virginians, (oh! my native land! Not a coward—but only damn'd backward in How great thy loís! yet greater thy renowo), fight.
To call these brave heroic fouls thy own). Or, more clear to refine it, we've skewn in effect. Ah, there they fell, to wolves and bears a prey, To be backward in fighting-is but a negleft.
Or human savages, more tierce than they. And tho’ we've condemn’d him, for mercy we pray, Some lifeless; wounded fome; fome teck to By,
There men and feeds in common ruin lie;
In vain ; the soulking favages fortake
Their thickets; and their birth of blood to flake,
Like furious lions, ruh into the field,
To butcher those not mercifully kill'd.
Now direr terrors o'er the warded (pead,
For simple death, or death by hands of 17:01, Ye gods! he alks no more than fiim to stand: Was now a privilege they with in vain. Give him a foot, he'll fix the tore’ring land.
Now horrid shrieks, and dying groans and cries, If they shall flow, back to the Muse he fies,
And the lov'd music of her youth, alarms; The wounded feel the blow that ends the strife,
A godlike race fustain'd fair England's fame: Extinguishing the faint remains of life, (knife:} who has not heard of gallant PIERCY's name? And kindly leaves them fenseless to the scalping) Ay, and of Douglas? Such illustrious foes Infernal weapon !- Death o'erspreads the plain
In rival Rome and Carthage never rose! : With heaps
of carnage : play’rs and tears are vain. From age to age bright Ihone the British fire, Loud cries for mercy vengeance but provoke, And ev'ry hero was a hero's fire. And supplicating hands but tempt the stroke. When powerful fate decreed one warrior's doom, The bended knee but stoops to take the blow, Up sprung the phenix from his parent's tomb. As hell itself, implacable’s the foc.
But whilst these generous rivals fought, and fell, There tofs'a 'in heaps, or scatter'd o'er the plain, Thefe generous rivals lov'd each other well
. Naked, unburied, lie the mighty lain.
Though many a bloody field was lost and won, The soil is with their blood luxuriant grown, Nothing in hate, in honour all was done. (peers, And still their bones lie whitening in the fun. When PIERCY wrong’d, defy'd his prince or There-birds of prey long fed, and wheeld their Fast came the DOUGLAS with his Scottish spears; flight;
And when proud DOUGLAs made his king his foc, And savage beasts carous'd and howd by night. For DOUGLAS, PIERCY bent his English bow. Oh fatal spot ! with thee be nam'd no more Expelld their native homes by adverse fate, Canne, Pharsalia, walh'd with Roman gore: They knock'd alternate at each other's gate; There men with men, here bellish furies fight, Then blaz'd the castle at the midnight-hour, Riot in flaughter, and in blood delight.
For him whose arms had fhook its firmeft tower. PROLOGUES and EPILOGUE to Douglas.
This night a DOUGLAs your protection claims;
A wife! a mother! Pity's foftest names : PROLOGUE I. Spoken at Edinburgh. The story of her woes indulgent hear, N days of claffic fame, when Persia's lord And grant your suppliant all the begs. - a tear.
In confidence she begs; and hopes to find Flourilh'd the state of Athens; small her store,
Each English breaft, like noble Pier CY's, kind. Rugged her foil, and rocky was her shore,
E P I LOGUE.
N Epilogue I ask'd; but not one word
most Such proud pre-eminence not valour gave, (Fer who than Sparta's dauntlefs sons more brave!) With comic wit to, contradict the strain
absurd But learning, and the love of every art, That Virgin Pallas and the Muse impart.
Of tragedy, and make your sorrows vain. Above the rest the tragic Muse admir'd,
Sadly he says, that pity is the best, Each Attic breast with noblest passions fir'd.
The noblelt passion of the human breast:
For when its sacred streams the heart o'erflow, In peace their poets with their hero's shar'd Glory, the hero's, and the bard's reward.
In gulhes pleasure with the tide of woe in The tragic Muse cach glorious record kept,
And when its waves retire, like those of Nile, And o'er the kings me conquerd, Athens wept *. They leave behind them such a golden soil, Here let me case; impatient for the scene,
Thai there the virtues without culture grow, To you I need not praise the tragic queen.
There the sweet blossoms of affection blow. Oft has this audience foft compassion Thewn,
These were his words:--void of delusive art To woes of beroes, heroes not their own :
I felt them; for he spoke them from his heart, This night our scenes no common tear demand,
Nor will I now attempt, with witty folly, He comes, the hero of your native land !
To chase away celestial Melancholy, DOUGLAS, a name thro’all the world renown'd,
E P I G R A M.
Approach'd the Muse, and thus began:
bless the man,
Too long thus fep'rately we stood ; And, Douglas dead, his name hath won the field.
Come, let us mix our common good; Liften attentive to the various tale,
Let Sion and Parnallus join,
Mine be thy weight, my fire be thine.
Agreed: the maids together roam,
And bo:h live friendly in one HOME. * Sve the Persai of Æschylus,
As deep-muling hung her facred head,
Ta the author of the Scots MAGAZIN
The one represents the actions of com
mon life : and compositions of this na. SIR, Edinburgh, Feb. 1751: ture have been the most liable to abuse ; 'HE ftage has been, of late, the because wit and ridicule are sometimes
principal subject of conversation found to be petulant, and the familiari. and dispute in this city (18. 4756.]: ty of this style is more easily mixed with It has likewise occupied the press; and indecencies. But the perfection of cothere is perhaps no person now living, medy consists in exposing to just ridicule who has seen here so much printed ab. the follies and absurd vices of ordinary use in so short a time. The theatre men: where it fails in this purpose, the has been attacked with rhyme and dog. abuse is manifeft, and will be condemngerel; its defence has been made with ed by every judicious audience.
Trathe same weapons; and personal abuse gedy, on the other hand, is serious, has not been spared on either side. Cool grave, and majestic: it represents the reasoning has, however, been attempt- actions of great men, and their conduct ed in one pamphlet *; and it may not chiefly on great and interesting occasions; be disagreeable to your readers to know their struggles in difficult and distresling a little of what it contains. It is re- situations, where the sentiments they markable, that although this dispute express raise admiration or picy, and took its rise from the representation of a where the very faults they commit be. new tragedy; yet we have not been re
come so many warnings to the fpectator. ferred to the standards of good poetry for Every tragedy therefore contains a story, a decision, nor have we seen any at- and may convey instruction in the same tempts in the way of critical reflection
manner with a parable or fable. It difa on the subject. Such indeed may have fers only in the form, and not in the efbeen the strain of conversation among fect. In a parable, the story is rela. people of sense; but the chief question ted; in tragedy, the subject is expressed with the public has been, Whether we by some action and conversation which should condemn the theatre as an im- is represented, and we are left to collect pious and immoral institution ? The the story from the speeches of the perwriter referred to above, confines him- fons concerned in it. In a parable, we self to this question; and insists, that no, wait for the moral till the story is conclucomposition should be condemned mere. ded, when the whole appears to have ly because it is in the form of a play; been an illustration of some moral preunless it has an ill moral tendency. He cept; in a good tragedy, we have a proves, that plays may have a tenden- continued moral from beginning to end; cy favourable to virtue; and that there the characters, the fentiments, and the are instances of regard paid to such observations, which come from the percompositions even in holy writ: Paul sans who speak, are calculated to move quotes a sentence from one of the Greek and instruct us; and we are deeply en poets, Aets xvii. 28. which shows that gaged by such representations, because he was sensible of the instructions and take
part with amiable characters, good impressions we may receive from and become anxious about the event. poetry; and has inserted into the facred It must appear frange, to say, that e. text, 1 Cor. xv. 33. a line from a Greek very story, parable, or fable, either in play which now fubfifts: Be not deceived: the form of narration, or in that of a Evil communications corrupt good manners. tragedy, must be a wrong thing in ice
He observes, that persons who need felf.” much information on this head, may
He goes on to illuftrate the instruction likewise need to be told what is the na- and good impressions derived from a cure of a play; and he gives some notion moral tragedy, by considering the scrip:
“ are of ture-history of Joseph and his inhuman wo kinds, called tragedy and comedy. brothers; which part of his argument he • Morality of stage-plays seriously considered. concludes with the following reflections. VOL. XIX.