The BRIDE.-We cannot call this our favourite play, or consider it a happy story. Rasinga would not (judging by the general laws of nature) have so easily relinquished his second wife; and the whole change in his disposition turns on the child's speech (p. 362), after Rasinga had withstood his wife, his brother, and Juan: nor do we like a plot which hinges on such sudden changes in the moral feelings and wills of the characters: they are far too easy and vulgar a resource to be used by skilful dramatists. A plot should be worked out of action and incident; not by alteration of character: a more natural, and more dramatic termination of the story could easily be found; but whether it would suit Miss Baillie's views so well, we cannot say. There is a very pretty song at p. 288, which we give to relieve our dry and husky criticisms:

The gliding fish that takes his play

In shady rock of streamlet cool;
Thinks not how waters pass away,
And Summer dries the pool.

The bird beneath his leafy dome,

Who trills his carol loud and clear;
Thinks not how soon his verdant home
The lightning's breath may sear.
Shall I within my bridegroom's bower,
With braids of budding roses twin'd,
Look forward to a coming hour
When he may prove unkind?

The bee reigns in his waxen cell,
The chieftain in his stately hold;

To-morrow's earthquake-who can tell?
May both in ruin fold.

Of WITCHCRAFT,-we shall only say, that Annabella is one of the most unpleasing characters we ever met with; and that if poets do not choose to take the pains to write their tragedies in verse, the scholiast may be excused for being silent as to their merits. Why was not the HOMICIDE written in verse? Nothing can tend to destroy all the higher and essential qualities of tragedy so completely, as forcing the muse to take off her graceful buskins, and tread the stage in pantoufles. We consider verse, with its wise constraints, its measured melodies, and its harmonious powers and changes, not to be an ornament of Tragedy, but an tial and constituent part; most necessary in what it allows, and in what it prohibits. It is, as it were, a secret, but always present power, constantly acting to preserve the due balance of expression:

--so to temper Passion, that our ears

Take pleasure in our pain, and eyes in tears
Both smile and weep.-

essen

If this is not preserved by the poet, Tragedy has no longer her due limits, her peculiar properties. She may be sunk in low, common, and vulgar life, or she may deal in interminable bombast. The tears which are the tribute paid her, will no longer be drawn from the fountain of pity, but the turbid stream of Acheron. Strip off the mask; it will not be Melpomene, but Medusa. We are therefore willing to consider these two pieces in the light of studies-unfinished productions.

We have now completed our agreeable task; and though we have dwelt at some length on what we consider the essential defects of these plays, we are not at all insensible to the many compensating beauties. The defects, we

think, lie most in the conception of the pieces and the arrangement; the beauties are found in the whole mass and body of the poetry-in the sentiments-the allusions-the images-the fine similitudes, and the beautiful descriptions. We should think Miss Baillie's genius comes more near to what we conceive of the Greek tragedian Agathon than of any other-less correct than Sophocles, less tragic than Euripides-this charming writer, the loss of whose works we deplore, delighted in the soft, the beautiful, the natural, and the descriptive.

Perhaps Miss Baillie's systematical design of devoting a drama to the delineation of one leading passion, may have been productive of some monotonous effect. Perhaps our old dramatic writers left her the field clear, from not considering fear, hatred, remorse, fit and fruitful subjects for delineation though indeed the subject is of little consequence; it is the manner of viewing it, which is everything; perhaps her very sex has precluded her gaining a real and personal knowledge of society, and becoming widely acquainted with all the diversity of character and motive, and the mysterious relations of the passions seen in the stirring masquerade of life; perhaps she has drawn her knowledge more from thought and reflexion, than from the living volume of society: thus we find in these plays no rich variation of incident; no fertility of invention; no striking, yet natural, contrasts; no principal and leading designs finished and surrounded with light incidental allusions. There is a flexibility and variety of movement wanting; but there is a dramatic energy and earnestness present-a power of pathos, and a fine elevation of fancy, and sentiments most pure and virtuous, and an innocence and goodness that is only defective for want of being united to some strong characteristic traits, through and among which it would appear with force. A German poet has said of a tragic writer of his country, of the same sex and name as ours,

'Mit Harsthornern, und Burgen, und Harneschen pranget Joanna.'

But our Joanna does not make a show with Horns, and Harness,—but with all those feelings that can subdue the affections, enrich the imagination, and elevate the moral dignity of Man.

NOTES ON BOSWELL'S JOHNSON.

(Continued from last volume, p. 350.)

Vol. 1. p. 219. Tall Sir Thomas Robinson. This is the person of whom the ludicrous anecdote is told in the Walpoliana, vol. 11. p. 131.

"Sir Thomas Robinson was a tall uncouth man, and his stature was often rendered still more remarkable by his hunting dress, a postilion's cap, a tight green jacket, and buckskin breeches. He was liable to sudden whims, and once set off on a sudden in his hunting suit to his sister, who was married and settled at Paris. He arrived while there was a large company at dinner. The servant announced M. Robinson, and he came in to the great amazement of the guests. Among others, a French Abbé thrice lifted his fork to his mouth and thrice laid it down, with an eager stare of surprize. Unable to restrain his curiosity any longer, he burst out with- Excuse me, Sir, are you the famous Robinson Crusoe so remarkable in history?"

See also the Life of Ann Bellamy, vol. iv. p. 222, where this story is told by Foote, who was present. The exact words addressed to Sir T. Robinson were-" Monsieur, ne seriez vous pas, par hazard, le fameux Robinson Crusoe, de qui on parle dans l'histoire ?"

P. 221. Mr. Temple, now vicar of St, Gluvias, Cornwall.'-This is the person whose character of Gray the poet, whom he knew, is given} in the biographies; it originally appeared in the London Magazine, 1772. He died Aug 8, 1796. See the Ann. Register, 1796, p 64, and the Garrick Correspondence, 1. p. 435. He published Historical and Political Memoirs,' and an Essay on the Clergy,' and other small works.

P. 227. Charles the Second, the last King of England who was a man of parts.'-Of course Johnson would not esteem William the Third a man of parts; but the impartial historian would not suffer his name thus injuriously to be passed over. In political and civil knowledge, in judgment, in practical wisdom, in a well-regulated, understanding, he was certainly superior to Charles.

P. 230. I mentioned Hume's argument against the belief of Miracles, that it is more probable the witnesses to the truth of them are mistaken, speak falsely, than that the miracles should be true.'

or

one.

sure

Dr. G. Campbell's answer to this argument of Hume is known to every See some account of that work, and some remarks of Hume upon it, and his letters to Campbell in Smellie's Life of Hume, pp. 183-195. Orme says Campbell completely unravelled the web which the vigorous adversary of Christianity had woven, and did every thing but extort an See acknowledgment from him that he was beaten at his own weapons.' Benson's Hulsean Lectures, vol. 1. pp. 85-94. Disc. IV. I deem it sufficient to reply, by denying that experience is, in all cases, the meaof intrinsic credibility of facts. The proposition of these is of too a nature. He was only authorised to assume that the intrinsic general credibility of facts is to be measured by their analogy to our past experience of the same or similar facts having occurred under the same or similar circumstances. This is a correct and forcible objection. Besides, there fallacy in the word ' experience:'-whose 'experience' does Hume His own, or other than his own experience? If his own, it is not good against the argument. If other than his own, there is a petitio principii. The late discoveries in science, astronomical and geological,

is a

mean?

have a tendency to diminish our surprise, or to remove our incredulity of immediate divine interposition.

P. 237. Sir David Dalrymple. A man of worth, a scholar, and a wit.' It is a little singular, that Lord Hailes, whose study was criticism and philology, should write English with less correctness and elegance than the philosophers of the same country, who may be supposed not to have paid the same attention to the beauties of composition-I mean Hume, A. Smith, and D. Stuart, &c. Has not [Burke] a great deal of wit? I do not think so, Sir.

P. 239.

He is indeed continually attempting wit, but he fails."-Some moderate -Lady Payne was asking him to give her the English of the phrase, "Mons Veneris"-he instantly replied, "Payne's Hill," Madam. This was It should be remarked, that Mr. Hamilton's place at Payne's Hill was then in great vogue.

very neat.

66

P. 254. Johnson was the editor of Ascham's Works, published under the care of Mr. Bennet."- James Bennet, the nominal editor of this work, was a plain, honest schoolmaster at Hoddesdon, who knew more of Latin than of English. The Dedication and the Life of Ascham, both very elegant compositions, were written by S. Johnson." (MS. Note, signed E. Malone, July 5, 1802, in a copy in the possession of the writer.

2

In the same copy, Malone has rectified several errors, and supplied several omissions.)

P. 258. "Mr. Richard Wharton, Secretary of the Treasury, and author of the poem of Roncesvalles. C."-He was, it is believed, the second son of Dr. Wharton, the friend of Gray it is to him that the public are indebted for the favour of reading the genuine and unaltered letters of the poet; which he liberally lent to the Editor. The volume had been previously lent to Mason, whose return for the favour was-not publishing one single letter correctly, and cutting out several names and words which he did not wish to be known; and with these mutilations the MS, now exists.

P. 317.J. The vulgar are the children of the state, and must be taught like children.'- B. Then, sir, a poor Turk must be a Mahometan, just as a poor Englishman must be a Christian.'-' J. Why yes, sir, and what then-See Mr. Croker's note on the difficulty of the principle involved, and his reference to the subsequent conversation, May 7, 1773. The principle involved, is the question as to the right which private individuals possess of interfering with the established religion of the country; and, considering it to be erroneous, of endeavouring to establish what they believe to be the true one. Dr. Johnson's arguments appear just ;—that no man has a political right to disturb the religion of his country established by law; if he does, it is, as the early martyrs did, at the risk of life: but how far will this rule, politically correct, be in unison with the scriptural command-Go unto all nations, &c. Besides, may not a distinction be made between a Christian and the followers of any other religion. The Mahometan or the idolator believes his religion is true; the Christian knows that his is. How far then the religious duty of conversion can be reconciled to the general law, prohibiting disturbance of established institutions, is the question which, perhaps, must be left as Johnson has determined; but it does not appear that the corollary that Boswell and Mayo would draw from it is correct, viz. that the poor Turk must for ever reinain a Mahometan, and that it prevents error being dissipated, and forbids permanently all change of institutions. We may look at two great revolutions in religion -the preaching Christianity among the Heathens of the Roman Empirethe Reformation of the Church in England. Now, in both cases, was the propagation of the new religion forbidden, yet it prevailed; because such changes are introduced first through opinion, the secret and unknown channels not cognizable by the authorities; as Johnson said- You may teach your children extra scandalum. The under-current of these opinions having long prevailed, and widely spread, and gained great force in the habits and affections, at length breaks forth into action, when it probably is too late to repress it; so that such momentous changes are usually brought about through violent struggles and the sword; and carried through the conflict by the irresistible devotion, and uncompromising conviction of those who adopt them the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.' It may also be urged against Boswell's and Mayo's conclusions drawn from Dr. Johnson's position, that not only the people, the general community, but the authorities themselves, may be influenced by the force of truth--magna est veritas et prevalebit,-which may act on their minds, as well as on the other orders of the community for the success of Boswell's argument at least involves the supposition, that, while the populace are open to conviction, the laws of the country are unalterable, and the opinions of those placed over them inflexible; neiGENT. MAG. VOL. VI.

D

ther of which points is true. Thus, though it appears that, while the welfare and safety of states forbid private interference with important public institutions; yet such changes of opinion widely diffused, which cannot at first be known, and when known cannot be repressed, ultimately effect the purpose required, and as they gain reception among all ranks, the old institutions ultimately give way before them. This force of truth is shown in the self-devotion of its advocates, and most widely diffused and strongly rooted by the impetus given to the feelings by this sacrificethe strongest pledge of truth which man gan give. Hence the seal of the apostle's faith-hence the sanctity of the martyr's crown.

P. 321. Samuel Dyer.-When Mr. Malone wrote the life of Dryden, he appears to have been most firmly convinced that Mr. Dyer was the author of Junius's Letters.-Is it generally known that Pinkerton, who edited the Walpoliana, has thrown out a hint, that Junius may be the Latin name of Dr. Young? See Walp. vol. 1. p. 68. The title to Junius, which perhaps led to this conjecture is, ' stat nominis umbra.' Walpole inclines to believe Single-speech Hamilton to be the author. Mr. W. Windham, we believe, always attributed the letters to Gibbon.

6

P. 336. Johnson took up a folio, which proved to be the Polyhistor of Morhoff, a German genius of great celebrity in the seventeenth century. On opening this he exclaimed, Here is the book on which all my fame was originally founded. When I had read this book, I could teach my tutors.' -It is not easy to say what all this means, and probably some alteration in the words that were used has taken place. Morhoff, we know, was a favourite work with Johnson; but how it established his fame, or how it enabled him to teach his tutors, is not so easy to understand. It contains much of literary history, and a pretty copious account of authors, critics, philologists, with their editions. Though its stores of information are copious, it is not the work of a philosophical mind, and is chiefly a record of the sentiments and opinions of others. We shall give a favourable character of Morhoff from the masterly pen of Leibnitz, drawn just after he had left him :-Obiit doctissimus Morhoffius, qui ante paucas septimanas apud me fuit, ad Aquas Minerales tendens, quæ tamen ei nihil profuêre. Ita Polyhistor ejus, opus pulcherrimum, imperfectum manebit; neque erit facile, qui absolvat.-V. Leibnitz Opera, ed. Dutens, tom. v. p. 91.-Again," De Morhoffio assentior tuo judicio. Vir fuit magnæ lectionis et doctrinæ vastæ. Nec tantum elegantium literarum cultor felix, et poeta egregius. Sed non satis rerum linguaramque extranearum compos." The most elegant and instructive work which this kind of learning has received of late years, without any doubt, is the delightful life of Ruhnken, by his friend Professor Wytterbach; and being on this subject of literary history, we shall mention, that in the public library of Strasburg are some very curious unpublished letters of Reiske, on the character of S. Adolphus KLOTZIUS and others, well worthy of publication.

Vol. 1. p. 2. "Ruddiman is dead."-Well indeed may Johnson say so to his correspondent. The ignorance and vanity of Boswell are nowhere more conspicuously marked, than in his daring to publish his Latin Dedication to Lord Mountstuart. We hardly know where to find its equal, and shall give it as a curiosity, to warn all future Boswells how they disturb Ruddiman's ashes.

VERO nobilissimo, ornatissimo, Joanni Vicecomiti Mountstuart, atavis edito regibus, excelsæ familiæ de Bute spei alteræ, labente sæculo, quum homines nullius originis, genus æquare opibus aggrediuntur, sanguinis antiqui et illustris semper memori, nata