of his government, and, as fome think, for the established church, thought fit to diffolve it. The latest date" of the fociety's original papers being 1604, makes it probable, that Fames put an end to it as foon as he could. It ceafed to fubfift publicly, for fear of being profecuted as a treasonable cabal.” P. xiv, xv. Yet, to the wonder of all who can reason as they read, the fame writer himself inftantly recites a memorial of 1617 that difproves his own affertion. "An anonymous MS. formerly in Mr. Oldys's, now in Mr. Weft's poffeffion, intitled a motion for erecting an Academy Royal, or College of King James, written in 1617, mentions the Society of Antiquaries as abfolutely vanished. But the cause of this vanishing was not the King's diffolution of it. It was fuppreffed by a very different King, the King of Terrors, and the fame memorial tells us this explicitly. "The fociety," fays the paper, "deferved to have had an incorporative connection, by way of Authoritie Royal. But, as it had not, To being confequently deprived of the benefit of fuffeclion and fubftitution a few of the friends and perfons dying, the thing itself is abfolutely vanifhed; fucceffion performing that in civil bodies, which generation does in natural." P. xvi, xvii. So palpably falfe does the charge against King James appear, of fuppreffing the firft Antiquarian Society! Being proved to be fo, from the very authorities produced by the writer who first made the accufation. Let it then be no more repeated in that Society, where it never ought to have appeared; having come forward at the firft with its own refutation inherent in the charge. (To be concluded in our next.) ART. XII. A Series of Plays, in which it is attempted to delineate the fironger Paffions of the Mind. Each Paffion being the Subject of a Tragedy and a Comedy. 8vo. 411 pp. 6s. Cadell and Davies. 1798. THE purpose of these plays, is to exhibit the paffions in fuch points of view, as may alarm the unthinking, and convince them how dreadful are the effects of ungoverned propenfities. In order to do this, the author has drawn his principal characters as poffeffed of every virtue, and alone ren dered dered miferable or unamiable, by the frailties arifing from one fatal paffion. How powerfully uncontrouled paffions will influence the actions of men, is within the obfervation of every one: but feldom indeed in an individual will one paffion be found unconnected with others: he whofe breaft is ftrongly agitated by the paffion of love, will be equally fufceptible of the powerful emotions of hatred. To feparate and individualize the paffions, therefore, is to leave the path of Nature; and to make the poffeffor of one bad propenfity in all other refpects virtuous, is to apologize for vice, and to make us pity rather than abhor it. Here then appears an error in the conftruction of the plan; and the author will do well, in his fubfequent plays, to make his heroes more of the colour of their fellow creatures, by displaying the lefs dangerous paffions as the frailties of human nature only, and the blacker (as will be generally found) more intimately connected with each other. The endeavour to exhibit the paffions in fuch lights as may influence the actions of others, and improve their hearts by convincing their understandings, is always laudable, although it has proved fo often unfuccefsful; and he who thinks he has difcovered a better method to do it than those who have gone before him, deferves the thanks of his fellow creatures for a well-meant, even though it should ftill prove an unsuccessful attempt. The prefent volume, which is the firft of the feries, contains three plays: Count Bafil, a Tragedy; The Tryal, a Comedy; and De Monfort, a Tragedy. In the Introductory Discourse, which abounds in imagery, the author has exhibited much knowledge of the human mind, and has difplayed his information and difcernment in such a style, as convinces the reader, at the outfet, that he is not incompetent to the arduous task he has undertaken. He treats at great length, and with much ingenuity, on the conftruction of the drama; in which, however, after all, he has not adhered to his own rules. He expreffes his approbation of those ftyles of writing which apply more forcibly to the heart than to the fancy, and thinks the drama the most approved vehicle. That theatrical exhibitions have more influence on the paffions than either the poem, the romance, or the novel, is true; but whether the drama, cooly inspected in the closet, has equal hold on the feelings, admits a doubt. In ftage exhibition, the varied perfonification, the excellence of the actor, the trick of the scenery, and numberlefs concomitants, operate with united influence on the feelings; but when this aggregate combination is withdrawn, the drama becomes, in fact, a poem, a ro mance, mance, or a novel, or all three, and its intereft there depends not only on the masterly execution of the author, but not unfrequently on the accidental temper of the reader. It is dif ficult for him to fupply the want of action in his own mind; and written defcriptions of what it fhould be, are interruptions which few can endure with patience; for, though many perfons take delight in theatrical exhibitions of the actions of great men, even in the lower walk of ballad or dumb show; yet very few, except children, will be found, who, with or dinary patience, will perufe the description of a pantomime; or the intimation that, in a a certain paffage in a play, the performer is to ftrut or to start, to ftumble or to stagger. The author, who fits down to write under the too clofe preffure of rules, is like a man endeavouring to leap in hackles. Thus he pens abfurdities, which his unfettered imagination would never have dictated. In Count Bafii will be found the following proof of this affertion. An old maimed foldier, who has lost an arm, speaking of his youth: first battles, Then my When clashing arms, and fights of blood were new: Ay, and that field, a well-fought field it was, When with this arm (I fpeak not of it oft) (Pointing to his empty sleeve. J Which now thou feeft is no arm of mine," &c. The prefent author, by writing the whole of his Tragedies in blank verfe, has fallen into the common inconvenience, of put-. ting equally measured fyllables into the mouths of the low and uninftructed, as into thofe of the polite and learned. Shakefpeare, who, to speak a trite truth, copied Nature more closely than any other painter of the minds and manners of mankind, produced his grandelt effects by the contrafted light and shadow of the elegant and the vul ar. After a fcene, in which the Duke and his Minister have been plotting deftruction on the head of Bafil, the Minifter, in a long foliloquy, thus fills up the proportion of one of his Jines by ba, fix times repeated. Speaking of the Duke, he fays, "Born had he been to follow fome low trade, A petty tradefinan till he had remained, There There are many fentences which ftruck us as ftrongly refembling paffages in other authors; but of these the author very candidly expreffes himself fenfible, and therefore will expect indulgence; and, indeed, there is original merit enough' throughout to demand it. The remainder of our task will chiefly be to praife. Count Bafil is a tragedy replete with beauties; it abounds in happy thoughts, and bold and beautiful images. The language is generally good, and frequently excellent. The following paffages we have selected as favourable fpecimens of the ftyle, and in many refpects admirable. "Baf. I know you prais'd her, and her off'rings too; She might have giv'n the treasures of the east E'er I had known it. She came again upon my wond'ring fight- Like fomething wak'd from fleep." P. 84. "Via. O! love will mafter all the pow'r of art, The polifh'd courtier, or the tuneful fage, Has only vulgar charms. To make the cunning artlefs, tame the rude, And lead him forth as a domeftick cur, Thefe are the triumphs of all pow'rful beauty! And be a plain, good, fimple, fire-fide dame." P. 108, The The modesty of a brave veteran, overpowered by public. And wav'd his hand, and clear'd his tear-chok'd voice, When back with double force the whelming tide Of paffion came; high o'er his hoary head His arm he tofs'd, and heedless of refpect, In Bafil's bofom hid his aged face, Sobbing aloud." P. 123. This picture of a defponding lover is alfo natural and af fecting. "Baf. No found is here; man is at rest, and I May near his habitations venture forth, Like fome unbleffed creature of the night, Who dares not meet his face.-Her window's dark; (Paufes for fome time, and looks upon the graves.} How happy are the dead, who quietly rest But I, like a vile outcaft of my kind, In fome lone fpot must lay my unburied corfe, The haunt of damned fprites. Ò! curfed wretch! (A light feen in VICTORIA's window.) |