a conftant check on the powers of genius, and cool the warmth of imagination. When manners become greatly refined, the play of the paffions alfo is concealed under the curtain of civility, the heart is difguifed, and a certain famenefs of converfation and action infenfibly creeps in, to the utter deftruction of fentiment and character. The age of Offian was not of that critical propriety, nor is the present that of poetical rhapfody. Homer lived in an age characterifed by a happy mixture of both, and the Iliad was the perfect work of a great genius, fortunately circumftanced for its production. Virgil, it is true, wrote in politer times; but with all his original merit, he was ftill an imitator; and had not Homer gone before him, the Auguftan age had, in all probability, never produced an heroic poem worth transmitting to pofterity.

For these reasons, it is with reluctance we fhould enter into a ftrict examination of the work before us, as an epic poem; in which light, however, we conceive ourfelves, in fome measure, obliged to confider it, as many of its admirers have allowed it confummate merit as fuch, and have rifked its reputation, perhaps a little unadvitedly, on a comparifon with the more perfect works of the kind_among the ancients. Ariftotle diftinguishes the effential parts which enter into the compofition of an epic poem, by the appellations of μῦθος, ήθη, διάνοια, and λέξις.— Μῦθος, or the fable, includes the compofition and contexture of the whole work. This ought to depend on one general fubject, and be uniform and confiftent throughout; fubject, however, to the admillion of episodes, formed on circumstances naturally arifing from, and depending on, the main bufinefs of the poem. The conftruction of the fable is, according to the Stagyrite, the most arduous task of an heroic poet : Μέγισον δε ТУТУУ Sy * των πραγματων συσασις. And though he has not affigned his particular reafons for this opinion, it is confirmed, by the experience of all ages, that power of imagination, which can happily combine the circumstances of any great tranfaction into one confiftent plan, creating at the fame time, and blending therewith, fuch incidents, and delineating fuch characters, as may make the whole great, interefting, and various;-this power being, undoubtedly, that faculty of the foul which is most rarely to be found in the

human mind. And thus, in order to produce that happy contexture of fable which perfectly correfponds with the characteristics of the Epopeia, the poet is freed from the fervile method of relating things as they really happened; otherwife he would be precluded from the means of composition: for which reason, he has a right to create all fuch probable incidents as are neceffary to the perfection of his plan. In proportion, there fore, as an epic poem is defective in it fable, its merit declines; and, without affording inftances of invention, however happy the poet may prove in his verfification, or in imbellifhing his ftyle with the flowers of rhetoric, his performance must still continue to be deemed an hiftory in verfe. For, as the Stagyrite obferves, fhould any one verify the works of Herodotus, they would, never theless, compose an history in that state, as well as they do in profe; a Poet being diftinguished from an Hiftorian, in that the former felects thofe incidents and circumstances which ought to compole the Epopeia, and the latter relates things as they really exifted. Ein yap à τα Ηροδότω εἰς μετρα τιθέναι, καὶ ἰδὲν ἧτλον ἂν εἴη ίςορια τις μετὰ μέτρα, ἢ ἄνευ μετρων αλλα τετά διαφέρει, τω τον μεν τα γενόμενα λέγειν, τον δε δια ἂν γενοιτο.

The conduct of an epic poem, therefore, fhould be fuch as may exhibit the va rious operations of the human mind, by a diverfity of objects and circumstances, fo as to affect the readers with the fenfations of pain and pleasure, according to the nature of the fubject and defign of the poet: and this is to be effected by the introduction of a number of capital perfonages, each diftinctly marked by different characteristics, and who, by the artful management of the writer, are made to exemplify, by action and expreflion, the good and ill effects of virtue or vice, a greeable to their respective situations and characters.

For this reafon, none o those perfonages fhould appear, on any occafion, to deviate from those ruling principles that conftitute their fevera characters; every action fhould be con fentaneous to the general defign, and afford in itself a rational motive for it being introduced; the whole fable be ing, at the fame time, fo conftructed that no part of it could be left out without manifeft injury to the remain der.

Subject to these restrictions, the narra

the article may be acceptable. We shall not, for reasons above mentioned, how ever, apply them too minutely in our ftrictures on the poem before us; we are neverthelels naturally led, in giving a general idea of the performance, to compare it fometimes, in parallel circumftances, with the works of the Greek and Roman writers; a comparison that can by no means be deemed invidious, as we fhall confine it to those parts wherein neither the superior education, nor the different manners and customs of the times, afforded them any advantage over our Celtic bard. But if Offian poffeffed the fame degree of genius that infpired an Homer, thofe objects which prefented themfelves to the fenfes of the fon of Fingal, will be described with the fame truth and beauty of colouring that we find in the works of the fon of Mæon: the paflions will be expreffed with like energy; the manners of the times, fimple as they are, will be delineated with fimilar propriety; and the characters of the perfons diftinctly marked, and preferved through the whole, with like precision and confiftence. Thefe particulars will alfo be combined in fuch a manner, as to make the whole great, interesting, and replete with variety of imagery: that is, in a degree, and fo far as the fubject of the Celtic poet is equally capable of fuch embellishments 'with that of the Grecian.

The ftory of this poem, fays the tranflator, is fo little interlarded with fable, that one cannot help thinking it the genuine hiftory of Fingal's expedition, embellished by poetry. He fcruples not, however, to affert it to be truly epic, notwithstanding the greatest excellence in that fpecies of compofition, invention, is confeffedly wanting. It is very poffible, nevertheless, that a production may be de fective in the fupreme part of compofition, and yet have otherwife great poetical merit. How far the poem of Fingal affords us proofs of this, will be feen by taking an impartial view of some of its principal beauties and blemishes.

[To be continued:]

The School for lovers. A comedy. By William Whitehead, Efq; Poet-Laureat. 8°. I s. 6d. Dodfley.

THE characters in this comedy, are thefe. MEN: Sir John Doriland, Modely, Belmour, Jonathan, and FootWOMEN: Celia, Araminta, and

man.

Lady Beverley.

The plot is not extremely intricate or full of incident; yet what it does contain of that fort is eafy and unforced.--Sir John Doriland, a gentleman of an amiable character, has been left, by the will of Sir Harry Beverley, his deceased friend, fole guardian to his daughter Celia; who, by the will, is intitled to a noble fortune; on the condition, however, of her accepting of Sir John for her husband. The young lady and her mother refide at a country-feat of that gentleman's with him; whose fister, Araminta, is just on the point of marriage with Mr Modely, a gentleman of town-manners and townprinciples; or, in other terms, a true male coquet.Modely, at the time this piece begins, is come down to Sir John's house, to fign the marriage-articles, and conclude his nuptials with Araminta; but ftruck with the charms of Celia, has within a few days made ufe of all the arts of addrefs and diffimulation to make fome kind of impreflion on her heart.-This he in fome degree effects: yet the young lady's amiable delicacy, her fincere efteem and respect for her guardian, her friendship for Araminta, and her determination to comply, in the ftrictest manner, with her father's will, prevent her from giving any way to his addreffes, till fhe becomes perfuaded by her mother, Lady Beverley, (who joins with Modely in his defign, from a vain idea that he has herfelf charms fufficient to excite a paflion in the bofom of Sir John), that her guardian's affections are fixed on herself, and that that gentleman will readily be induced to refign both her and her fortune to Mr Modely; on which the acknowledges the effect that his artifices have had upon her heart; and that, could the affair be fo determined without injuring Sir John, or giving him pain, it would be equally defirable to her.

To bring this about, an eclairciement with Sir John is fought for by Lady Beverley; in which, after fome little embarras arifing from equivocal exprellions between them, and a few of the airs of an antiquated coquet on the fide of the latter, Sir John is brought to an open friend's will in force, by marrying Celia, declaration of his intention to, put his whofe amiable innocence, and unaffected fimplicity of manners, have implanted an irradicable paffion in his heart.-Surprised and aftonifhed at this difappointment of her own hopes, Lady Beverley is provoked to declare to him, that Celia's heart is

not

not fo entirely disengaged as he feems to imagine it, but is fixed on another; without giving any further hint, however,, who the perion is, than obferving, that it is one already in the house with her. -This points his fufpicions at Mr Belmour, a young gentleman whom Modely had brought into the country with him to be witness to the celebration of his nuptials. Diftracted as he is at this fatal news, he determines to come to an explanation in regard to it with Celia, with a refolution, if he finds it true, to give up his happiness to hers, and relinquifh her and her fortune to the man fhe loves. This produces a most elegant and affecting scene, in which the young lady, with the utmost delicacy imaginable, declares her high efteem of her guardian's good qualities, and her readinefs to make him happy by complying with her father's will; yet with a franknefs confiftent only with the ftricteft purity, blufhing confeffes the advance that Modely's behaviour had made within her bofom. This confeffion at once clears up the mistake Sir John had lain under with refpect to Belmour, and at the fame time opens both his eyes and Celia's to the bafeness of Modely, who had even diffembled fo far as to urge the figning the marriage-articles, and fixing his wedding with Araminta for the next day. This discovery, together with the generous behaviour of Sir John, entirely eradicates every fpark of affection fhe had given place to for Modely, heightening the esteem fhe had ever had for her guardian into the most ardent yet delicate pation, which fhe with her natural frankhefs declares to him.

This circumftance, however, is of fo perplexing and delicate a nature, that Sir John leaves her on it very abruptly; but in their next conference he prefents her with two papers, the one of which contains a releafe from the reftraint of his guardianship, and the other gives her a title to the entire difpofal of her for tune. These she accepts, but inftantly offers to return them to himself, as the man with whom the wishes them, and the guidance and direction of her perfon and conduct, to be entirely depofited.His delicacy, however, confidering the motives of this conduct to be only gratitude and generosity, but not love, rejects the offer, and leaves her once more in tears, from the fuppofition, that the only man who, as fhe herfelf had exprefled

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it, fhe ever did, or ever can efteem, had abandoned and refufed her. On the entrance of her mother and Mr Modely, who know nothing of what has just paffed, and who renew, the one her perfuafions, and the other his profeffions of paffion, he treats them both with the contempt they deferve, and by tearing the papers her guardian had just given her, before their faces, convinces the latter of the entire deftruction of his hopes. This difappointment, however, Modely bears with an unmoved effronterie, refolving to pursue his match with Araminta; who, a-propos to his defign, immediately appears.This young la dy, whofe character is that of a lively, fenfible, and amiable girl, and who from the very beginning of the play, had given fome hints of her difcernment, in regard to Modely's attacks on Celia, now dif fembles with him for a while; but at length, after leading him on to a moftpaffionate and bombaft declaration of his love to her, and her alone, and a warm folicitation for completing their marriage that very night, fhe informs him of her being fully acquainted with all his falfehood, and rejects his pretended passion for her, banishing herself for ever from any future attempts from him, with a just and fpirited indignation; yet mixed with a tenderness, which plainly fhews her heart not entirely alienated from him. In this fituation fhe leaves him, overwhelmed with confufion, and that confufion greatly heightened by the raillery of his friend Belmour, whom, during the two laft fcenes, he had placed in an arbour to be witness to his expected triumph, but which now had turned out fo greatly to his difgrace.In this fcene, however, he difcovers, what he had ne ver before been fenfible of, viz. that he had really been all this time in love with Araminta; in which opinion he is ftill farther confirmed by the observations of his friend, and by his own jealoufy of that friend, on Araminta's sending to him to intreat a private interview in the gar-. den.

Reduced to this extremity, Modely now becomes perfectly fenfible of the fol-. ly of his former conduct, yet in despair of ever retrieving the effects of it, or making atonement to Araminta. One step however he refolves on taking; which is, in the most fubmiffive manner to point out to Sir John Doriland the fincerity and warmth of Celia's paffion for him, and

N2

endeavour

endeavour to get the better of that gentleman's delicate diffidence, which is now the only bar to their mutual happiness. This at length is effected, and their union brought about; and Araminta, perfuaded by the aflurances of Mr Belmour, and the effect of a little innocent ftratagem of pretended gallantry on her fide with that gentleman, that Modely's heart is not quite fo depraved as fome parts of liis conduct had given room to fufpect, the catastrophe is wound up by a' kind of compromife, by which it appears not impoflible that Modely may at fome future period obtain a pardon from his beloved yet injured Araminta.

Such is the plan of this piece, which is entirely founded on fentiment and the affections of the heart; having more of the pathos than the vis comica; more of the delicate than the lively; and more of thole elegant touches which enrapture the few, than thofe flashes of wit which catch the multitude.-In a word it is what Hamlet calls "Caviare to the million."-Yet it is far from wanting either fprightliness or humour in fome of the fcenes and characters; but the wit of it is fo chafte, and the humour fo delicate, as to excite a fenfible file without the interven. tion of the too common refources of a double entendre, a pert valet, or an impertinent chambermaid. Those who object to the tenderness of fome fcenes, would do well to recollect, that fome of our very best comedies have scenes of the fame kind; for example, Indiana's scene with Sealand in the Confcious Lovers; Sir Charles Eafy's, with his Lady, in the Careless Hufband; Lord Townly's reconciliation-scene in the Provoked Hufband; and many others.

The catastrophe is very natural and juft, and the contrast between the characters of Sir John Doriland and Mr Modely, as highly coloured as their refpective fates are judiciously conceived. Nor is there lefs judgment thewn in the diftinctness of character of the two equally amiable ladies Celia and Araminta, the one being delicate to the greatest degree without being a prude, and the other perfectly lively without being a coquet.

The part of Lady Beverley has both nature and humour in it, and that of Belmour is an accomplished gentleman, free from the pernicious prejudice of the town fine gentleman.The moral of the play is throughout apparent and uniform, and tends to the most valuable of purpo fes, the pointing out to the female part

of the world, that real paffion will ever fhew itfelf apparent in actions more than words, and that the romantic fights of a man of profeffed gallantry, ought ever to be hearkened to with the stricteft de gree of precaution and diftrust. Lond. Ch. WE learn from an advertisement prefixed, that this performance is founded on a plan of M. de Fontenelle, never-intended for the ftage, and printed in the 8th volume of his works, under the title of Le Teftament. It is infcribed to the memory of that elegant writer; and the author fubfcribes himself A lover of fimplicity; an epithet which, in our opinion, he has not affumed without reafon, if we may be allowed to judge from the School for lovers.

The reader must not expect to meet with much witty repartee, or great violence of humour in it; nor will the eye be entertained with a variety of fhifting fcenes, nor the imagination transported by a hurry of bufineis: yet thefe are the articles on which the success of a modern comedy, in a great measure, depends. Our author has preferved the unities of time and place with the moft fcrupulous exactnets; though we have lived to bear this cenfured as a defect. In the conduct of the fable he has judicioufly maintained the keeping, and rendered all the o ther characters fecondary and subservient to the principal figures, Sir John Doriland and Celia. This is a propriety which many a good artist has not been able to establish. We have known a fubordinate groupe start forward, rival the principal figures in importance, and diminish their effect, in spite of all that the painter or poet could do to keep. them at their proper distance.

Although there is nothing in the School for lovers to elevate, furprise, and excite loud burfts of laughter; the delicate reader will find in it abundance of entertainment. The characters are well diftinguished and contrafted; thofe of Sir John and Celia are marked by a very amiable and engaging fenfibility, which recommends them ftrongly to the favour of the audience. The dialogue is ealy, natural, and genteel, and the fituations are extremely interefting.

A nice critic might think the character of Belmour infignificant, if not unneceflary; and that Modely, notwithstanding his penitence, was icarce intitled to a reconciliation with Araminta; as there feems to be something more inexcufable.

than