ing the unity of action, they exhibit two passions with almost equal force in their respective tragedies; the love of a mother for her unknown son, and the desire of vengeance, by Crebillon ascribed to the brother-in-law, by Voltaire to the son, on the murderers and dethroners of her late royal husband. Whether the first of these passions is fitted for the foundation of a tragedy, except with some of the circumstances of horror added by Lord Orford, may perhaps be doubted. At all events, it must surely be granted, that the latter should not be displayed as subordinate to it, and merely as an under-plot, nor is it to be endured, that the feelings, whatever they may be, which are supposed to arise

1707. The second comparison I would make is between the scene in which Orestes and Electra converse upon coming forth from the house after the death of Clytemnestra, and that where Macbeth and Lady Macbeth appear immediately upon the murder of Duncan. The similarity is not so exact as in the former case, but the heroes resemble each other entirely in dwelling upon the dreadful circumstances of the past transaction, notwithstanding the interruptions of their female companions. Euripides is correct, affecting, and impressive throughout; (though I think Electra repents much too soon) Shakespeare runs riot a little in his description of sleep.

in the breast of the auditor or reader on perceiving a mother fall in love with her son unknown, should be laboriously spread through five acts by the aid and submission of the sentiment so much more dignified and tragic, attributed to the son on finding himself the rightful king, or to the next and nearly related heir of the murdered monarch. These authors, however, not content with the materials thus supplied them, elevate a third subject, the distress arising from the mutual attachment of the son and a young princess, to an importance equal to that of the two before mentioned. In Crebillon's play particularly, Tenesis is at least as much the heroine of the piece as Semiramis; and in Voltaire's, Azema plays no very subordinate part. For the rest, the usual merits of the French tragedy, which the great literary lawgiver of France too partially extends into general laws, when he observes," les deux grandes regles sont que les personnages interessent, et que les vers soient bons," are exhibited by Crebillon to a considerable extent. The last of these rules is indeed very powerfully displayed, particularly in the scene of the second act, where Belus and Agenor sup

* See Voltaire. Fragment d'un discours sur Don Pedre.

port their relative claims, one to the dignity of birth, the other to that of virtue. The catastrophe in the play of Crebillon is extremely well managed. Semiramis dies by her own hand, under the influence of feelings natural to her as a woman, and becoming to her as a queen. Of the Semiramis of Voltaire to which I am so much indebted, I may speak freely, because he himself has set the example in a criticism upon Hamlet, which certainly would have become him better had his obligations to the immortal author of that extraordinary production been less numcrous. The Semiramis of Voltaire is a great and accomplished queen, of matchless beauty, and with mental qualifications which eminently fit her for the government of a great empire. Fifteen years before the action of the play commences, she employed means to poison her husband Ninus, who, had he not been anticipated, would have destroyed her. Her reign has been a reign of virtue and utility-the uncultivated desart she has made fertile-barbarians she has subjugated to her laws-the arts at her command have appeared in monuments, which are the admiration of the universe-she is followed by the blessings, and surrounded by the acclamations of her people. Notwith

standing these merits, these rewards, and this length of time, she appears before us absolutely crushed by her remorse.

"Tantôt remplissant l'air de ses lugubres cris,
Tantôt morne, abattue, egarée, interdite,
De quelque Dieu vengeur evitant la poursuite,
Elle tombe a genoux vers ces lieux retirés,
A la nuit, au silence, a la mort consacrés,
Sejour où nul mortel n'osa jamais descendre,
Où de Ninus, mon maitre, on conserve la cendre:
Elle approche a pas lents, l'air sombre, intimidé,
Et se frappant le sein de ses pleurs inondé,
A travers les horreurs d'un silence farouche,
Les noms de fils, d'epoux, echappent de sa bouche,
Elle invoque les dieux; mais les dieux irrités
Ont corrompu le cours de ses prosperités

"

After these sublime and affecting lines, the course of the play is truly astonishing. The son of Ninus, who, at the time of his father's death escaped not from the fury of Semiramis, (for she seems to have always been a most tender and affectionate mother,) but that of Assur, her guilty instrument, having under a fictitious name and character attracted the affection of the queen by his valour in distant places, in obedience to her orders comes to Babylon. Here, as she flatters herself, having long subdued every youthful passion and feeling, in compliance with the oracles of Egypt, and the supposed

wishes of the shade of Ninus, supported by a laudable desire to dismiss and defend herself against the criminal Assur, having found how inefficient in procuring happiness had been the glory, pomp, labours, and blessings of empire, she determines to divide with him her throne and bed. A council is held, and she declares her purpose; when suddenly the ghost of Ninus appears, not to denounce the vengeance of heaven on the incestuous bond, not to reveal any unknown truth, not to clear up any mystery, but rather, as it seems, and as Semiramis herself supposes, to celebrate the marriage by his approving presence, to darken and confound whatever was dark and confused before, and in a short speech of four or five lines, to appoint a meeting with his son in his tomb. The marriage proceeds, till by mortal means the unfortunate queen discovers that the youth, on whom she has fixed her affections, is her son. On this discovery she resigns both her love and her crown, and afterwards, when she hears that Assur has formed the design of following her son into the tomb in order to destroy him there, she too descends into this abode of death and horror, for the purpose of saving him. What