proceeding upon rational views, and coinciding in general with the prepoffeffions of fenfibility; but which requiring to be attentively. ftudied, well understood, and admitted with due extenfion, may, nevertheless, be expreffed in fuch general terms, with fo much brevity, and apparently of fuch eafy comprehenfion, as that it is often. adopted without due extenfion; without being studied or understood. Moreover, the warmest advocate for the powers of feeling will allow, that they are often attended with distrust, hesitation, and something like confcious weaknefs. Hence it is, that perfons of mere fenfibility are ready to avail themselves of any thing like a general maxim,' which falls in with their own inclinations; and having no general maxim which is really their own, afcertained and established by their own experience and reflection, they will be apt to embrace the dictates of others. Thus even an excellent rule, ill understood, will, consequently be ill applied, and instead of guiding men aright, will lead them into the mazes of error. In another part of this Effay, the Profeffor juftly obferves, that There is a certain confiftency of paffion, emotion, and fentiment, to be obferved in fine writing; not lefs important than unity of action, and of much greater confequence than the unities either of time or of place. The mind is not only pained by feelings dif agreeable in themselves, but, independent of their particular character and effect, it is pained by being distracted and harraffed. Now, this difcompofure is produced, if oppofite feelings, though in themselves agreeable, are poured in upon us at once, or in immediate fucceffion. As the tendency of thefe diffonant emotions is to destroy one another, the mind, during the conteft, is in a state of distraction. Nor can either of the contending feelings accomplifh their full effect; for the attention is too equally divided between them, or transferred fo rapidly from one object to another, that the pleasure they would yield is imperfect. Add to this, that in cafes of fuch diforder, the finer feeling is generally overpowered by the coarfer and more tumultuous. A ludicrous character, or incident, introduced into a pathetic fcene, will draw the chief attention to itself; and by ill-timed merriment, banish the fafter pleafures. This fubject will receive more illuftration, if we attend to the fuccefs of thofe authors who have understood and availed themselves of the foregoing maxim. From this proceeds the chief merit of Milton's L'Allegro and Il Penforofo. Intending in his L'Allegro to excite chearfulness, he deals folely in chearful objects intending in his Il Penforofo to promote a melancholy mood, he has recourfe to thofe images only that are connected with folitude and gloomy filence, If you would make us weep with compaffion, do not ftrive at the fame inftant to convulfe us with laughter. Or if you mean to exalt your audience with folemn and fublime devotion, you will not addrefs them with fantastic levity, nor amuse them with a merry tune. The propriety of adhering to one leading idea, or in other words, of moving the mind by one particular fet of feelings, has been attended to in other imitative We find nothing in mufic or painting, fo inconfiftent as the diffonant mixture of fentiments and emotions fofrequent in English arts. C 4 tragedy. ་ tragedy. The improvers in gardening are attentive to the fame obfervances. They tell us, with great juftice, that in a folemn fcene, every thing light and airy fhould be concealed and remov ed; that where fublimity conftitutes the chief expreffion, every circumftance fhould be great or terrific; and, in general, that all fubordinate incidents fhould be fuited to the reigning character. Even Shakespeare himfelf in many brilliant paffages, where he follows the guidance of genius alone, or of unperverted fenfibility, and, indeed, in all thofe detached paffages that are ufually mentioned as poffeffing fingular excellence, acts in perfect confiftency with thefe obfervations. Every circumstance in his defcription of departed fpirits, in "Meafure for Meafure," without fuggefting noifome, difgufting objects, are directly calculated to fill the mind with delightful awe. 6 Now, if confiftency of feeling and fentiment is to be observed in fine writing, it will affect our imitations of nature. It will lead us to bring more fully into view, than in the original, thofe things. that carry forward, or coincide with, our purpofe; and to conceal thofe circumstances which may be of an oppofite or unfuitable tendency. If we would defcribe a chearful landfcape, we will avoid mentioning the gloomy forefts, or deep morafies, which may actually exift in it. In like manner, if we would difpofe our audience to entertain fentiments of veneration for fome refpectable perfonage, we will throw into the fhade thofe levities which may have place in the character, but which leffen his dignity. In the fictions of the poet it is allowable, not only to veil infirmitics, or to foften and conceal harsh or unbending features, but from the storehouses of fancy and obfervation to make fuch additions, both to the landfcape and to the character, as fhall equally promote our pleafure and. qur efteem. Does this rule, then, contradict the great maxim of following nature? Or is there any neceffity impofed upon us, of adopting the one and rejecting the other? If fo, to which fhall we yield the preference? We are not, however, reduced to this difficulty. We may both follow nature, not, indeed, as fervile copyifts, but as free difciples; and preferve at the fame time confiftency of feeling and expreffion. When a judicious improver covers a bleak heath with enlivening groves, or removes the dreariness of a noifome fen, by changing it into a lovely lake, interfperfed with iflands, can we accufe him of departing from nature? Indeed he varies her appearances, but at the fame time improves them, and renders them more agreeable to our conceptions of excellence. In like manner, the poet who excludes from tragedy mean perfons and vulgar language, because they are diffonant to the general tone of his work, neither violates nature, nor trefpaffes against the great obligation he is under of affording us pleasure.' The fifth Effay contains additional obfervations on Shakespeare's dramatic character of Hamlet, in a letter to a friend. In this Effay Mr. Richardfon fhews, with a modeft ingenuity and confidence, that, according to the opinion he he had delivered in his former publication, the character of Hamlet, as delineated by Shakespeare, is well fupported. On the whole of this publication we obferve, that it abounds with juft and refined criticifm, and ingenious and ufeful obfervations on human nature. Thefe criticisms and obfervations are delivered as commentaries on a justly celebrated and popular Author, who has exhibited in his various writings, the moft ftriking lineaments of the nature of man. This conduct is judicious and artful; as a pleafing affociation of ideas gives animation, intereft, and efficacy to truths, which, unfolded in an abstracted manner, would have made a lefs vivid or lafting impreffion. The virtuous tendency, too, of our Author's obfervations, merits the highest praife, and is worthy of the man of genius, and the public preceptor of youth. ART. VIII. The Flames of Newgate; or the New Ministry. 4to. 3s. Southern. 1783. London. IN N this imitation of the fabulous fcenery, or what critics commonly call machinery of Homer, the story is as follows. The immortal Earl of CHATHAM, reaching the ethereal regions, Jupiter calls a general fynod to enroll him among the gods. Such of the British as are honoured with feats among the powers above, congratulate their compatriot on his arrival at the manfions of the bleffed. They enquire concerning the viciffitudes of their country. CHATHAM describes the calamities with which she is furrounded, and implores in her behalf the interpofition of the ruler of the univerfe. Jupiter upbraids St. GEORGE for his neglect, and bids him repair to his government; but the fainted champion declines the office, and pleads his catholicifm for excufe. Upon which Jupiter refolves to fend the angel GABRIEL in his place, but for fome peculiar reafons, Chatham requests him to give the charge to a female angel. Accordingly a female angel arrives at St. James's with difpatches for the king, containing an order for difmiffing all the old officers of itate, and a lift of a new miniftry framed by Jupiter himself. The angel is prevented from fulfilling her commiffion, and decoyed into King's-place. She, however, eludes the fnare, and flies back to Heaven. In the middle of her flight the meets with St. Paul, fent by the gods for her protection. The apoftle perfuades her to return back with him, and hearing her adventures, thinks it more prudent for both, to remain incog, affuming himself the form of a country fquire, and the angel that of a plain mifs. Paul, having previously inftructed himself in the English English laws, cuftom, and manners, hies to St. James's to deliver his credentials from Heaven, but is at that time unfortunately arrested for debt. The apoftle, applying to the bishops for bail, meets with a repulfe; and for want of three or four guineas to pay the expences of a habeas corpus is of courfe removed to Newgate; and the angel accompanies him. The Olympian guests, being now in durance vile, in the moft pinching circumftances, and the mortal form they had affumed hindering them from making their efcape, Paul rouzes the demon of fuperftition, by whole means the prifon is fet on fire, and the celeftial captives reafcend to the spheres. The fpirit of infpiration is at last fent to the monarch. BOREAS with his affociates are difmiffed. Lord ROCKINGHAM's adminiftration fucceeds, and every British heart is revived by the returning fmiles of happinefs. This fable, it must be allowed, fhews an extravagance of fancy; and to thofe lively imaginations which alone are capable of relifhing the charms of ingenious fiction, The Flames of Newgate will afford not a little entertainment. Grave, or rather dull criticks, will doubtlefs find occafion, from fuch a fanciful production, to exercife their talent for cenfure. The mixture of chriftian with heathen mythology will probably be arraigned by fuch judges as an offence both against the confiftency which ought to be preferved in every compofition, and against the faith of pious and orthodox men, The most ingenious and pleafing productions are often danned by the crowd of criticks from ignorance or inattention to the vaft power and energy of the imagination. Hence a great deal of jargon concerning the three unities; and hence fo many abfurd criticifms on the immortal Shakespeare. Al fable is incredible in the eye of cool reflection. But the enthufiafm of an enlivened imagination beflows truth and reality on agreeable fiction, and poetry makes often a livelier impreffion, and produces, for a time, a ftronger belief than hiftory. Belief, is defined by Mr. Hume to be a vivid and fleady conception of an object. Vivid conception alone, as the fame Author obferves, produces a temporary belief: and the fame livelinefs of conception that deludes us into a tranfient belief of a Grecian fable, is able alfo to produce a momentary belief in mythology even when mixed with ideas and perfonages borrowed from the true religion. When we fee Paul appealing to Minos, at a time when we are hur-ried out of ourfelves by the art and the eloquence of the poet, we do not ftop to reafon concerning the incompatibility of the heathen with the chriftian religion, but entertain fome fome confused ideas of a coalition. On these principles the poem under review may be fairly vindicated from the charge of inconfiftency in the defign, or fable. With regard to the offence which the conduct of our poet may give to pious minds we have nothing to anfwer, but that lefs injury is done to the cause of religion when a poet affirms that "Paul rouzed the demon of fuperftition," than if the fame propofition were maintained by a philofopher. This performance abounds with pointed fatire, and dif In raptures loft a crowd of fools perufe When |