and the troops which I fupport, protect you against the violence, rapacity, and invafion of our common enemies. I not only provide against your neceffity, but my care extends even to the eafe and convenience of your lives. If ye are defirous of inftruction, ye will find matters of every kind; if defirous of rendering yourfelves ufeful, offices and employments are waiting for you; are you infirm or unfortunate, my affection has provided fuccour, and prepared affift." ance and for all the favours which I daily lavish upon you, I demand no other acknowledgment, than that ye entertain a cordial affection for your fellow-citizens, and intereft yourselves with a fincere attachment in whatever may be of advantage to them.-They are my members; they are myfelf; ye cannot bear any affection for them without loving me.- - But your obdurate and intractable hearts defpife the value of my favours; ye fuffer yourselves to be directed by an unruly madnefs; ye are defirous of living feparate and abtracted from fociety, and of breaking the ties which ought to bind you to me. When your country is training every nerve for your benefit, will ye do nothing for her?-Rebellious against all my care and anxiety, deaf to all my reprefentations, will nothing be able to foften or move your flinty hearts? Reflect-let the advantages your parents have enjoyed melt you! Let your duty and your gratitude unite! Let your future conduct towards me be fuch as virtue fhall dictate, and my care for your glory and honour demand."

Anapiftæmon, with the humble deference due to the royal Inftructor, yields a ready affent to the force of this eloquence. But in a country of LIBERTY it would not, perhaps, have' been fo eafy to convince him. It is poffible he would have returned a manly, though refpectful anfwer to the artful demands of his fovereign. "You require," might he reply, ❝ my gratitude, my fervices, my fortune, my life itfelf, in return for the favours which you confer on me. But it is neceflary first to examine whether thefe favours merit fo great a facrifice. The troops which you fupport, protect me against the violence, rapacity, and invafion of our common enemies.' You forget that these enemies have been created by your ambition; and that it is only on your account I have the fmallest reafon to fear their refentment. The laws of my country defend me against affafins but fo will the laws of every civilifed country upon earth. The fame may be faid of the other boasted advantages which I derive from her. They are fuch as I may every where enjoy as a ftranger, without laying myfelf under any burdenfome obligations. If my country would deferve my peculiar gratitude and regard, the muft diftinguifh me by peculiar favours. I mean not that he is to prefer me to my fellow-citizens; but the muft make me feel the diftinction between citizen and ftranger. She muft give me a conftitutional weight in the establishing, as well as in the adminiftration of thofe laws which defend my life, liberty, and fortune. Under their influence I muft feel my own rights, and the rights of those who are dear to me, more fafe and fecure in my native country,

K 3

than

than they would be in any other upon earth. Unaccompanied with the fenfe of these advantages, the mother country is an empty name; which may be employed by crafty tyrants to varnifh the guilt of their own deteftable paffions, and to mislead the ignorant prejudices of their wretched fubjects.

ART. IX. The Fatal Falfehood; a Tragedy. As it is acted at the Theatre Royal in Covent-Garden. By the Author of Percy. 8vo. I s. 6 d. Cadell.

TH

HIS Authorefs feems to poffefs fo many requifites effential to excellence in dramatic poetry, that it would be unnatural, even for obdurate critics, not to be anxious for her fuccefs. She is, we think, a pupil, and no mean proficient, in the school of Otway. Many paffages in this tragedy remind us of their fource in the plays of the Orphan, and Venice Preferved. Like her great mafter, though in an inferior degree, she is endowed with a facility of expreffion, and tenderness of fentiment. But fhe does not follow him with equal fuccess in the delineation and prefervation of character, in the management of particular incidents, or the general conftruction of the fable.

Her failure in these circumstances is, perhaps, in great meafure owing to that very rich and eafy vein, of which we grant fhe is poffeffed. Trufting to the rapidity of her execution, the begins to "build the lofty rhime," before fhe has well laid the foundation. A good tragedy, or indeed any excellent production, is a work of exquifite art, as well as genius; which might be proved not only from common fenfe, but even from the works of Shakspeare, whofe example has been fo often cited in fupport of the contrary doctrine. To the want of attention to this art, Horace afcribes the defects of the Roman dramatifts, to whom he imputes no defect of natural talent for tragedy. The fame thing may, perhaps, be truly faid of many an English writer, whofe plays have failed on the stage, merely from an abuse of talent in the closet;

fpirat tragicum fatis, & feliciter audet,

Sed turpem putat in fcriptis, metuitque lituram.

Ariftotle has justly determined that perfect characters are less adapted to tragedy, than fuch whofe good qualities are tinged with fome frailties: but thofe frailties thould appear to be congenial, if we may fo term it, with their virtues. Macbeth is ambitious, yet "what he would highly, that would he bolily." His ambition prevails, yet his veneration for fanctity is never loft, nor can even the moft horrid deeds of defperation and cruelty affimilate Macbeth to the remorfelefs Richard. The Fatal Falfehood is radically defective in this refpect. Such a

*Hannah More.

man

man as Orlando, open, noble, generous, and fenfible, could never be guilty of fuch a falfehood as that on which the distress of this tragedy is founded-a falfehood commencing in the moft capricious perfidy, proceeding to the bafeft treachery, and ending in the fuppofed affaffination of his dearest friend.

To the truth of this representation let our Authorefs herself bear witness! Early in the play, Bertrand thus describes Orlando; and it seems to be the idea the Poet herself wishes us to entertain of his natural character:

Orlando's noble :

He's of a tender, brave, and gallant nature,
Of honour most romantic, with fuch graces,

As charm all womankind.

Such is the original draught of Orlando at the opening of the play; but before the conclufion of the firft A&t fhe gives us his picture drawn by his own hand :

Orlando. Thou know'ft I left my native Italy,
Directed hither by the noble Rivers,

To ease his father's fears, who thought he fell
In that engagement where we both were wounded;
His was a glorious wound, gained in the cause
Of generous friendship, for an hoftile fpear
Aim'd at my breast, Rivers in his receiv'd,
Sav'd my devoted life, and won my foul.
Bertrand. So far I knew, but what of Emmelina ?
Orl. Whether her gentle beauties first allur'd me,
Or whether peaceful fcenes, and rural fhades,
Or leisure, or the want of other objects,
Or folitude, apt to engender love,

Engag'd my foul, I know not, but I lov'd her.
We were together always, till the habit
Grew into fomething like neceffity:
When Emmelina left me I was fad,
Nor knew a joy till Emmelina came;
Her foft fociety amus'd my mind,

Fill'd up my vacant heart, and touch'd my foul, 'Twas gratitude, 'twas friendship, 'twas efteem, "Twas reafon, 'twas perfuafion, nay 'twas love. Ber. But where was Julia?

Orl.

Oh! too foon fhe came,
For when I saw that wond'rous form of beauty,
I ftood entranc'd, like some astronomer,
Who, as he views the bright expanse of heaven,
Finds a new star. I gaz'd, and was undone;
Gaz'd, and forgot the tender Emmelina,

Gaz'd, and forgot the gen'rous, trufting Rivers,

Forgot my faith, my friendship, and my honour.

The complicated baseness of this conduct we think we may venture to pronounce unnatural in a man naturally good, though occafionally blinded by paffion. Inconftancy is not fuppofed

to be the characteristic of Orlando, yet his inconftancy is more unjustifiable than that of any mad lover we ever remember in romance or tragedy. Bafenefs is fo averfe from his nature, that, ftruck with horror at his own perfidy, he confefles and repents his crime; and yet, immediately after that repentance, attempts the murder of the friend, whofe forgiveness he has juft implored. It is in vain to plead the inftigation of Ber trand. Bertrand is a mere ftage villain. His artifices only prevail, because it is convenient for the Author that they should do fo; and Orlando and Rivers are unnaturally blind, merely because it would mar the plot, if they were to fee like other people.

After the affecting fcene between Orlando, Rivers, and Emmelina, towards the conclufion of the fourth Act, it is improbable, nay almost impoffible in nature, that the circumftances of the Fifth fhould enfue; and we think it will appear, by the following foliloquy, that it is but a poor, fhallow, theatrical artifice, by which thofe circumftances, improbable as they feem, are produced:

Bertrand. How's this? my fortune fails me, both alive!

I thought by flirring Rivers to this quarrel,

There was at least an equal chance against him.
I work invisible, and like the tempter,

My agency is feen in its effects.

Well, honeft Bertrand! now for Julia's letter.

This fond epiftle of a love fick maid,

[Takes out a letter.

I've worn to give, but DID NOT SWEAR TO WHOM.
Give it my love, faid fhe, my dearest lord:

Rivers the meant; there's no address-THAT'S LUCKY!
Then where's the harm? Orlando is a lord,

As well as Rivers, loves her too as well.

[Breaks open the letter. I must admire your file-your pardon, fair one.

[Runs over it.

Do I not tread in air, and walk on stars?
There's not a word but fits Orlando's cafe
As well as Rivers' ;-tender to excefs-
No name 'twill do; his faith in me is boundlefs;
Then, as the brave are ftill, he's unfufpecting,
And credulous beyond a woman's weakness.

[Going out be Spies the dagger.
Orlando's dagger-ha! 'tis greatly thought.
This may do noble fervice; fuch a scheme!
My genius catches fire! the bright idea

Is form'd at once, and fit for glorious action.

Phrenzy, properly introduced, and ably pourtrayed, is a forcible engine of tragedy. Madnefs is not ill pictured in the ravings of Emmelina; yet they have but little effect on the

reader,

reader, because her phrenzy and death are too evidently introduced as a ftage trick, not neceffarily flowing from the circumftances of the fable, and too fuddenly produced to be natural. In a word, the whole of the fifth Act is, in our opinion, indefenfible.

Our remarks may perhaps appear to be fevere; but they are delivered with a warmth of friendly reprehenfion, not with the leaft fpirit of acrimony. We deliver our cenfures, in this inftance, with more freed om, because we really think the fair. Writer bleft with genius,, which the permits, from hafte and careleffness, to run to wafte. Ladies who write for the stage, as well as many gentlemen, do not fufficiently confider the ar duoufnefs of the task:

To write a play! why 'tis a bold pretence

To learning, knowledge, genius, wit, and fenfe!

Not to take leave of our Authorefs without fhewing her claim to fuch a bold pretence," we fhall fubmit to our Readers the beginning of the fourth Act, which we efteem to be one of the happieft paffages in the play:

Emmelina How many ways there are of being wretched!
The avenues to happiness how few!

Guil.

When will this bufy, fluttering heart be still?

When will it ceafe to feel, and beat no more?
Ev'n now it fhudders with a dire prefage
Of fomething terrible it fears to know.
Ent'ring I faw my venerable father,

In earnest conference with the Count Orlando:
Shame and confufion fill'd Orlando's eye,
While ftern refentment fir'd niy father's cheek.
And look, he comes, with ter tor on his brow!
He fees me, he beholds his child, and now
The terror of his look is loft in love,

In fond, paternal love.

Enter GUILDFORD.
Come to my arms,

And there conceal, that sweet, that afking eye,
Left it thou'd read what I wou'd hide for ever,

Wou'd hide from all, but moft wou'd hide from thee,
Thy father's grief, his fhame, his rage, his tears.
Em. Tears! heaven and earth! behold my father weeps!
Guild. He who has drawn this forrow from my eyes,

Em.

Shall pay me back again in tears of blood.

'Tis for thy fake, my child.

For me, for me?

Hear, heaven, and judge; hear, heaven, and punish me!
If any crime of mine-

Guild.

Thou art all innocence,
Juft what a parent's fondeft with wou'd frame;
No fault of thine e'er ftain'd thy father's cheeky
For if I blush'd it was to hear thy virtues,

And