and divine, increases; all arts and sciences are making confiderable advance; with them, all the accommodations, ornaments, delights, and glories of human life; and thefe are new food to the genius of a polite writer; thefe are the root, and compofition, as the flower; and as the root spreads, and thrives, fall the flower fail? As well may a flower flourish, when the root is dead. It is prudence to read, genius to relish, glory to furpafs, antient authors; and wifdom to try our strength in an attempt in which it would be no great difhonour to fail.' We cannot confent to call the above paffage mere rant: on the contrary, we look upon thefe fentiments as truly becoming an elevated mind, and genuine indications of a genius of the first rank. A daring fpirit of liberty, an honeft indignation at the meannefs and fervility of mere imitators, and a noble confidence in fuperior talents, are the diftinguishing characteristics of men of genius; while the mere fcholar labours along, with the timidity of a child, that hath not acquired fufficient ftrength and courage to walk alone. Occafional mention is made of Shakespear, Johnson, Dryden, Pope, and Addison, and their merit as originals, or imitators, confidered: in which part of the letter, though there is little faid that is new, the reader hath an inftance, in our author, how far the executive and the fpeculative genius are compatible. In other words, he may fee that tafte and genius are not more neceffary to form the writer than the critic; even in the latter capacity, the letter-writer giving us very judicious fpecimens of his known and diftinguished abilities. We might close our account of this work with propriety here, had our author thought proper to confine himself to his fubject; but as he intimates, that he wrote his piece chiefly with a view to publifh a perfonal anecdote, little known, concerning Mr. Addifon; it might be thought inexcufable in us to pals over the main purport of the letter: we fhall, therefore, give the fort relation in our author's own words, and leave the reader to his own reflections concerning it. Mr. Addifon, after a long, and manly, but vain ftruggle with his diftemper, difmiffed his physicians, and with them all hopes of life: but with his hopes of life he difmiffed not his concern for the living, but fent for a youth nearly related, and finely accomplished, but not above being the better for good impreffions from a dying friend: he came; but life now glimmering in the focket, the dying friend was filent: after a decent and proper paufe, the youth faid, "Dear Sir! you fent for me: I believe, and I hope, that you have fome commands; I fhall hold them moft facred." May diftant ages not only hear, hear, but feel, the reply! Forcibly grafping the youth's hand, he foftly faid," See in what peace a Chriftian can die." He fpoke with difficulty, and foon expired. Through Grace divine, how great is man? Through divine Mercy, how stinglefs death? Who would not thus expire?" Cara&tacus, a Dramatic Poem: written on the model of the antient Greek tragedy. By the Author of Elfrida. 4to. 2s. 6d. † Knapton, &c. MR2 R. Mason, having, in the letters prefixed to his Elfrida, given us those reasons which determined him to write on the model of the ancient, rather than of the modern drama; it may be thought fuperfluous, perhaps, to cenfure, or approve, the present work on account of its plan. We fincerely with, however, for the honour of the English theatre, as well as for the increase of our poet's reputation, that he had condefcended to give the world a tragedy, adapted to the present taste, and the customs of the English stage. For though, as our author fays, in his addrefs to Mr. Hurd, Perchance the candour of fome nobler age May praise the bard, who bad gay folly bear And leave him pensive virtue's filent tear. Yet we are justly apprehenfive the prefent age, though not altogether blind to poetic merit, will beftow more applaufe on the writer who confults and conforms to its tafte, than on him who affects to treat it with contempt. The claffical reader, whofe tafte has been formed on the models of antiquity, will, doubtless, approve of our author's choice: but, after all, it may not be unreasonably questioned, whether the model of the ancient tragedy, confidered in itself, has any effential advantage over the modern. Certain, indeed, it is, that in the latter, by omitting the chorus, we cut off frequent opportunities of introducing the embellishments of poetry. We may have deprived ourfelves alfo, in fome measure, of the graceful and natural means of conveying moral fentiments to the audience: a lofs, for which Mr. Mason thinks nothing fince fubftitured can poffi=bly atone *. But granting much of this, may not the reafon, why the small share of poetry and morality, which distinguish fome modern plays, appears to be introduced with fo little grace and propriety, be owing rather to the want of capacity in the writer, than to any defect in his plan. It will be allowed, that + A fecond edition is published, in octavo, price 1s. 6d. Shakespeare The pain is the sew Te and foul of tragedy; and though we do not a lapprove of the natural and graceful introduction of poena ex Chen, jetwas the bare unud cloudy or the -Fired micres of this kind, ther interrupt the inLuence site here in the pars, and have the fame effic on the less of a tramatic reprefentation, as a profuition of ornafaize woman. Tantafeoffretationis has been fe fuperlatively poe by trasight ma te unaptly compared to that of a lady, fo who was is rich in jewels, that after having profetely bedecked leet & lead to fret, could in the latisfied, without having the bees of her fires alio ornamented with diamonds of the firtt water. Hence it is, that in ome plays all the Dramatis Perime are fax'ntes of the ties and brethren of Parnatius, not even a feller or a page being able to ope His mouth, het out there flies a trope. We might add to this, that in the fpeaking of most actors, poet.cal cabellfaments lose half their ftrength and beauty; the Charms of verfification and metre are, in gencial, quite loft; allegory degenerates into rant and nonienie; and defcription and precept into mese declamation. Further, with respect to the conveyance of moral fentiments to the audience; it fhould be remembered, that it is the more peculiar province of dramatic poefy, to inftruct rather by examile than precept; to animate to virtue, rather by exciting the paffions than informing the judgment. So that we might as well find fault with a play, because it is not a fermon, as to cenfure the omiffion of the chorus, in modern trag dies, merely on this account.-But to come to the poem. The flory is this. Caractacus, being defeated by the Romans, flies to the inland Mona, (Anglefea) where he takes refuge among the Druid Didius, the Roman general goes in queft of him; offering to two young princes, who are going with him as hoftages to Rome, their freedom, if they will find out Caractacus, and by artifice betray that prince into his hands. They undertake the charge: the the eldeft, Vellinus, readily entering into the scheme of deceiving the old man, by pretending to come from their mother, queen of the Brigantes, to defire him to head her troops against the Romans: Elidurus, the younger, tacitly confenting alfo, out of love to his brother, whom he is incapable of betraying. They are fufpected, however, by the Druids; and Vellinus efcapes back to the Romans: who immediately begin to burn and deftroy the facred groves. They are oppofed by a band of a thousand Britons, In holy and in martial exercise. train'd alike These are led on by Caractacus, Arviragus his fon, and Elidurus: the latter having been, in the interim (on his apparent goodness of heart, and at the inftance of Evilina, Caractacus's daughter) forgiven and cleanfed from the guilt of his former crime. The Druids are for a time victorious; but it being found, that the Romans had made ufe of ftratagem, and divided their forces, they are furprized and furrounded; Arviragus is killed; Caractacus, his daughter, and the reft fall into the hands of the enemy, and the groves and altars of the Druids are totally destroy'd. We shall select an ode, and the laft scene, as fpecimens of this excellent poem. Hail, thou harp of Phrygian frame! In years of yore that Camber bore From Troy's fepulchral flame; With ancient Brute, to Britain's fhore The mighty minstrel came : Sublime upon the burnish'd prow, He bad thy manly modes to flow; Britain heard the descant bold, She flung her white arms o'er the fea; Proud in her leafy bofom to enfold The freight of harmony. Mute 'till then was ev'ry plain, Save where the flood 'mid mountains rude Tumbled his tide amain; And echo from th' impending wood Refounded the hoarfe ftrain; While from the north the fullen gale With hollow whistlings fhook the vale ; Difmal notes, and anfwer'd foon By favage howl the heaths among, What time the wolf doth bay the trembling moon, And thin the bleating throng. Thou fpak't, imperial lyre, The rough roar ceas'd, and airs from high 8 Lapt Lapt the land in extafy: Fancy, the fairy, with thee came; Oft at thy call would leave her fapphire sky; 'Tis fleep, her dewy harbinger, Change, my harp, O change thy measures; Cull, from thy mellifluous treafures, Notes that fteal on even feet, Ever flow, yet never paufing, Mixt with many a warble sweet, In a ling'ring cadence clofing, While the pleas'd power finks gently down the fkies, And feals with hand of down the Druids slumb'ring eyes. We do not infert this ode as the beft in the piece, but the rather as it is moft detached from the bufinefs of the scene. SCENE the laft. CARACTACUS, AULUS DIDIUS, CHORUS, &c. Romans, methinks the malice of your tyrant Proud-crested foldier! Who feem'ft the mafter-mover in this business, Is it thus ! [to Didins. [Seeing his fon's body. Then I'm indeed a captive. Mighty gods! AULUS DIDIUS. Droop not, king. When Claudius, the great mafter of the world, Shall hear the noble flory of thy valour, His pity CARACTA CUS. Can a Roman pity, Soldier? And if he can, gods! must a Briton bear it? Arviragus, |