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racters introduced into the poem. The following lines, from the sketch of the curate, may be given as a specimen :

6.-For many years he walk'd his parish rounds,
And serv'd three diftant cures for thirty pounds.
And this, with some few shillings by the week,
For teaching his rich Vicar's children Greek,
Was all he ever gain’d of hard-earn’d pelf,
To feed two orphan Gifters, and himself.
'Tis said, indeed, he was so very poor,
That e'en the starving vagrant, near his door,
Would hide his sickly face and wooden leg,

And bravely stagger by-alham’d to beg.--' An etching, representing the principal members of the club at a social meeting, is given, by way of frontispiece ; and it is not deftitute of humour. Art. 47. Vulcan's Rebuke. Submisively addressed to the Worshipful

Peter Pindar Esq. by his affectionate Cousin Paul Juvenal, Gent. &c. &c. 4to. 35. Scatchers and Co. 1788.

The most triking proof that can be given of Peter Pindar's preeminence, as a “man of rhimes,' is his powerful attraction of the minor bards of the day, who follow him like the small birds that usually attend the flights of the kingly hawk. But let us descend to a more familiar allusion, and ask a fair question. Why Nould Master Peter bear so hard on a certain unfortunate gentleman on account of one solitary creeper?-He, who, himself, lo prodigiously swarms! 'Tis altonishing what a multitude of these poetical vermin crawl about and feed on him ! Surely it is im poflible for him to maintain them all! Some of them, we fear, are in a situation not much better than that of Churchill's Scotch spiders.

Art. 48. Ximenes; a Tragedy. By Percival Stockdale. 8vo.

Faulder. 1788. Instead of this tragedy, we fincerely with our Author had given us a gth * fermon, for notwithstanding the strictures in a foregoing article, p. 57. he evidently merits more applause as a theological than as a dramatic writer. While we admire his ingenuousneis in telling us, that the acceptance of his play was politely declined by Mr. Harris, the Manager of Covent Garden Theatre, and that his friend Mr. Jerningham, doubted its theatrical success, we were neceffarily led to suipect that as a play it must have some defect. Our perosal of it has convinced us that the fufpicion was not ill founded. The piece favours too much of his sacred profession, and the sentiments and expressions with which it abounds, are more calculated for the pulpit than the stage. There is noching in it worthy the name of plot, liccle that can interest us, and as little to entitle it to the name of a tragedy.


Vide account of his Eight Sermons in the preceding part of this month's Review.


The chief business of this drama confifts in the Spaniards endeavouring to convert the Moors to Christianity; the scene lies in Gra. nada in Spain. Ximenes, regent of Spain, a pious old man, takes great pains, by prayer, and frequent quotations of Scripture phrafes, to enforce the persuasion of the evangelical doctrine. In the first scene of the second act, he enlarges on the blessings of eternity, talks of the deathless regions' where we shall see and know the Deity, where we shall converse with worthy men made perfect,' and range through infinite creation,' All the people of the court use similar language, and Giraldo, a Spanish officer, begins his prayer to the Supreme Being with the awful addressFather of mercies!

If there be any character in this piece which interests us, it is Leonora, a Spanish princess, in love with Zaigri, a Moorish prince. She is forbidden by her father to marry him, on account of his being an infidel; but our apprehension for the destiny of the lovers is foon re moved by Zaigri becoming a profelyte to the Christian faith ; his conversion being undertaken by the good Ximenes, who, adopting the language of St. Paul to Agrippa, first interrogates him, · Bao lieveft thou this faith?' and then exclaims, I know that ihou believeft.' To whích Zaigri, in the words of King Agrippa, replies,

Almost thou perfuadest me to be a Chriftian.' Even the courtship between Zaigri and Leonora appears to have been theological and metaphysical ; for the latter says,

we should, there, converse, As we were used, in facred dialogue,

On virtue, on eternity, on God.' Leonora, too, occasionally, prays most fervently; and in the sublime language of devotion, calls on the Father of the universe, the omnifcient Author of the human frame, &c.'

The prayers and pious sentiments of the principal characters are all long and laboured; and we cannot but express our surprise that it should never occur to the Author (who has hewn himself by his writings to be a man of sense) during the progress of this devout composition, that it would be totally incongruous with the scenes of a play-house, and ill calculated to please the audience of a theatre, On serious reflection, however, we make no doubt, he must be convinced, that prayers, texts of Scripture, references to the Messiah, catcalls, and the vociferous importunities of orange-women, together with the licentious clamours of the galleries, must, when mixed together, form a most heterogeneous medley: An Inquisitor-general is introduced on the Aage, who mercifully wishes, for the benefit of the unbeliever,

• To plant the horrid stake, to pile the faggot,

To light the fire, and burn him into heaven--' and could the actual representation of an Autó da fé have been brought about, this piece would have been better entitled to the appellation of a tragedy. At present, as we observed before, there is little to render this term appropriate. The good Ximenes is indeed poisoned; but as at our first acquaintance with him he is old, and finking through natural infirmity to the grave, we are little affected by the circumstance which haftens his diffolution ; especially since a year elapses from the time the poison was first given, and he fura vives long enough to say many good prayers, to propagate the Gospel, and terrify the Inquisitor-general, with threatening to make a bonfire of him, and hang him up as high as Haman.


On luch a fingular drama it is impossible to pass any encomium. We shall therefore take leave of our reverend Author, lamenting that he has so misapplied his talents, and recommending to him, should he ever be tempted to try his abilities again as a play writer, ftudioufly to avoid the use of Scripture language, which, spouted from the mouths of tragedians, would by all be considered as indecent, and by many as profane. Art. 49. Sileet Dramatic Pieces; some of which have been acted

on Provincial Theatres, others written for Private Performance, and Country Amusement. By Doctor Jodrell. 8vo. 6s. Boards. Lowndes 1787.

The dramatic pieces here selected are fix in number. The Boarding School Miss ; One and All; The Disguise ; The Mufico; Who's afraid; and the Bulse. The last of these titles wants explanation, and is therefore ill chosen. In the course of the piece, we are told that Fitzwarren, the day before he went away, placed in a vault, behind some bricks, an iron cheft, containing a Bulse of Diamonds, the richest that ever came into this country; the person, who did this, having the secret of knowing the value of Bulles without opening them. Thus the reader may form an idea of what is meant by the name given to the piece before us. The deposit was, it seems, intended as a provision for the proprietor's son and daughter. The fon, not being in the secret, was on the point of selling the house, with the concealed Bulse, and hence the difficulties in the course of the fable. As Dr. Jodrell has thought proper to' exhibit his complaint against us, Reviewers, having, as he says, experienced great viciffitudes of censure and approbation ; we will not, in his absence from this kingdom *, send after him a fresh cause of discontent. He bids defiance to our judgment and appeals to posterity. To that tribunal we consign him, fincerely wishing that his works, at some period, however late, may have their day of trial. God fend him a good deliverance ! We are neither enemies to his

present nor pofthumous fame. Art. 50. The difirefed Family; a Drama, in four Ats. Trans

lated from the French of Monsieur le Mercier. 8vo. Is. 6d. Elliot and Co. 1787.

As this piece was read by Monsieur le Texier, in Lisle-street; as the whole has been before a number of audiences, and the police circles have already formed their judgment of the original, a formal criticism may be dispensed with ; and we shall only fay, that in the rank of tender and pathetic comedy, this piece is entitled to a distinguished place. The sentimental drama, though not equal to the comic species, which displays the foibles and humours of man

* Since the publication of his book, the author has been knighted; and has failed to the East Indies, in quality of phyfician to the Nabob of Arcott.

kind, may yet, while it gives a true delineation of life, be received with favour. It serves the cause of virtue, and on that account is valuable. The translation may, in general, be allowed to have done justice to the French writer, but is not always grammatical... I vex you! dear Charlotte, me!' The rule requires that it should be 1. We only mention this that the writers of dialogue may not imagine that Priscian's head, because it is broken in real life, should, without occasion, suffer in dramatic compofition. Art.'51. Imperfe& Hints towards a New Edition of Shakespeare.

4to. 45. fewed. Robson, &c. 1787. This is an account of pictures, prints, and engravings, that relate to Shakespeare, or have been taken from his plays. The professed design of the publication is to furnish hints to the undertakers of Mr. Boydell's edition ; the time being now at hand, as our author says, when Shakespeare's works will receive every embellishment of grateful art; when a temple will be erected to his memory; and when the productions of the British artists will receive an eternal afylum. It is remarkable that this plan of uniting the fifter-arts of poetry and painting was first suggested by Mr. Collins, in his epiftle to Sir Thomas Hanmer:

“ O might some verse with happiest skill persuade
Expressive picture to adopt thine aid !
What wondrous draughts might rise from ev'ry page!
What other Raphaels charm a diftant age !
Methinks e'en now I view some free design,
Where breathing nature lives in ev'ry line :
Chafte and subdued the modest lights decay,
Steal into shade, and mildly melt away.
And see where Anthony, in tears approv'd,
Guards the pale relics of the chief he lov'd :
O'er the cold corse the warrior seems to bend,
Deep funk in grief, and mourns his murder'd friend.
Still as they press, he calls on all around,

Lifts the torn robe, and points the bleeding wound.” Mr. Collins pursues his plan through several of Shakespeare's characters. The idea was worthy of a poet, and is now happily revived, at a time when the artists of Britain possess fancy, tatte, and execution. The account of the various pictures and engravings contained in the pamphlet before us, will, probably, furnih several valuable hints for the completion of the present laudable and extensive design; which, we hope, when finished, will be an honoor to the literature and the artists of our country, and the noble spirit of Alderman Boydell.

N. B. A second part of these Hints is just come to hand; but we have not yet perused it.

* For an account of his works, see Review, vol. xxxii. p, 293. and lvii. p. 82. Rev. Jaly, 1788.


Art. 52. Remarks on the favourite Ballad of Cupid and Psycbe.

With some Account of ine Pantomime of the Ancients. 12mo.
Is. 6d. Stockdale. 1788.

An elegant little tract, abounding with observations of more importance than could be expected on a subject, at the first view, rather unpromising. It is pleasant to see the present state of our country in miniature, but nicely touched. • Throughout the present reign, the patronage of the great, and more especially of the greatest, has conftantly promoted the advancement of the arts. Yet has their progress been opposed by very hostile circomstances. Civil fermentation and disquiet have often filled the minds of men with faction, or inflamed them into rage; and actual war, of such a nature as to drain, and apparently to exhaust, the resources of the country, interposed for a while a still more dreadful obstacle. But the fecurity of peace has returned. Wealth has again increased be. yond what was hoped ; beyond what was imagined posible. Virtuous attention has discovered, and brought into action, the vigour of the state. We are respected abroad, for our resources have been shewn; we are tranquil at home, for government possesses, as it ought, the confidence of the people. This is agreeable, because it is true : and this is, certainly, the time for genius to exert itself. Good taste is connected wiih morality; and while the pleasures of mankind tend not only to gratification, but to the refinement of the understanding, great good is likely to ensue. We agree with the aothor in these sentiments. After stating the progress of the arts, and the cultivation of our language, he proceeds to the little ballet which has lately attracted the public notice. The art of dancing, he fays, confifts of two parts, the gymnastic, and the mimetic, or imitative. The former is the effect of bodily vigour, and the love of exercise, refined in time to regular movements and sportive elegance. The second part consists in imitation, conducted by regular gettares, and representing events, passions, and situations. It may be divided into three species; the tragic, comic, and farcical. The lait has been displayed in our pantomimes, but without regard to ele·gance. With the ancients, the dance, united with music, was em

ployed in the service of religion. Hence its dignity in former ages. it Rome, the pricits, who guarded the sacred Ancilia, were denominated Salii. The mimetic dance was united with music in the chorus of the drama. Unmixed pantomime was unknown to the Greeks, but, under Auguitus, became fashionable at Rome. The two former, viz. the serious and comic, have been revived by Noverre, and oiher artists of his nation. Le Picq is the Pylades ad. mwed by the ancients; and Petris, the BATHYLLUS. In consequence of poffe sing rich artills, the Ballet of Cupid and Psyche has been wonderfully performed. The expression of looks and gestures is an universal language, and its power has been fully exerted in this pantomime dance, where Viflris, like a real divinity, seems to touch the ground by choice, not by necefity. After giving some critical ftridtures on the performance at the Opera House, the author proceeds to relate the very fingular table of Cupid and Psyche, which forms the ground-work of Noverre's pantomine. The story is no where extant in any ancient writer, except Apuleius. It is beau


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