and rugged precipices, which discouraged their approach. When Alfred the Great formed the defign of rendering learning more general than it had formerly been, he never dreamed of extending it to the common people, which he knew was quite impracticable, but only obliged perfons of rank and fortune, by a law, to fend their fons to school; and we have good reason to believe, that this was efteemed a very hard law, and that it was not long obeyed.'

The hiftory of the Arts of Great Britain, which is the subject of the fifth chapter, contains much curious and pleasing information. In the account which is given of the great honour that was paid to poetry and the poets, we have fome doubt, whether the Author hath fufficiently difcriminated the precife character of the Saxons in this refpect, from that of the nations around them. If we are not mistaken, the Saxons of England were less enthusiastically fond of poetry and poets than fome others of the northern tribes, and particularly the ancient Britons.

In the hiftory of Commerce, Coin, and Shipping, we read, with particular fatisfaction, of the furprizing efforts of Alfred the Great for encreafing the trade and naval power of his country, and for making new difcoveries. The flourishing condition to which Edgar the Peaceable raised the English fleet is, likewise, an object of agreeable contemplation. Dr. Henry has taken no little pains in deducing the ftate of coin in Great Britain, from the departure of the Romans to the establishment of the Saxons. In the management of this intricate and perplexing subject, he has received confiderable affiftance from the labours of the late learned Mr. Clarke, to whom he gratefully acknowledges his obligations.

The feventh and last chapter, which relates to the Manners, Virtues, Vices, remarkable Cuftoms, Language, Dress, Diet, and Diversions of the People of Great Britain, from the Arrival of the Saxons to the Landing of William Duke of Normandy, contains a variety of entertaining circumftances. As it would be impracticable to purfue our Author through his whole narration, we shall only present one farther fpecimen of his work, in the representation he hath given of the love which the Anglo-Saxons had for liberty.

After the account that hath been given of the Anglo-Saxon conftitution in a former chapter, it is hardly neceffary to obferve, that the love of political liberty, and of a free and legal form of government, may be juftly reckoned among the national virtues of the Englifh in this period. This virtue, together with the great and leading principles of their conftitution, they derived from their ancestors, the ancient Germans, who are greatly celebrated by the Greek and Ro man writers for their love of liberty, and their brave defence of that inestimable bleffing. Thofe armies of adventurers which arrived from Germany in queft of fettlements in this ifland, in the fifth and fixth

centuries,

centuries, were compofed of high-fpirited and haughty warriors, who were almoft equals, and would admit of no greater degrees of fubordination than they chofe themfelves, and thought neceffary to the fuccefs of their enterprizes. Their conquefts, we may be certain, did not abate their haughtiness, or make them more fubmiffive to their leaders. For their own honour, after their fettlement, they allowed thofe leaders to affume the name of Kings, and gave them a large proportion of the conquered lands to fupport their dignity; but they still retained in their own hands the power of making laws, impofing taxes, and determining all national questions of importance, in their national affemblies, as their ancestors had done in their native feats on the continent. Of these ineftimable privileges they continued to be infinitely jealous, and to defend them with the most undaunted refolution; and it is to this political jealoufy and refolution of our remote ancestors, that we are indebted for our present. free and legal form of government.'

The martial fpirit of the Danes, and the causes and properties of that fpirit, together with the fondness of that nation for a violent death, are well defcribed by Dr. Henry. Among other circumstances he hath not forgotten the attention and refpect that were fhewn to the fair fex; an amiable peculiarity in the character of the northern nations; which has been beautifully difplayed, and well accounted for, by Monf. Mallet, in the Introduction to his Hiftory of Denmark.

Whatever farther defects might be pointed out in the prefent performance, it must be acknowledged that, upon the whole, it poffeffes confiderable merit. The Author, indeed, is not diftinguished by elevation of genius, by philofophical penetration, or by a capacity of rifing to the highest fpecies of hiftorical compofition; but he poffeffes a great share of good sense, and his diligence and labour muft have been uncommonly great. He refers always to his authorities. His ftyle, if not elegant, or remarkably nervous, is clear, and for the most part, though not univerfally, correct. As a collection of facts and materials, Dr. Henry's Hiftory of Great Britain cannot but be peculiarly ufeful. It is a work which every gentleman would with to place in his library, that he may be able to confult it on proper occafions.

ART. IX. Setbona; a Tragedy. As it is performed at the TheatreRoyal in Drury-Lane. 8vo. 1 s. 6d. Becket. 1774.

COLON

OLONEL Dow,' (fays the Editor's advertisement) when he failed for India, left the following tragedy in the poffeffion of Mr. Garrick. The event has fhewn, that the reputation of an abfent Author could not have been trusted in fafer bands.'-We fubfcribe to this grateful declaration; and we have no objection to the feveral acknowledgments which make up the reft of this advertisement. We are only forry that

in the next edition, the Reviewers will not be found in the lift of benefactors to this poetical bantling, who feems, by the abfence of its natural parent, to demand peculiar indulgence. The only circumftance that renders this unneceffary, is the prudent choice of a guardian. There are many cases in which we fhould prefer a Lord Chancellor, in the management of our affairs, to any unexperienced and injudicious relations. There is hardly any theatrical cafe in which we should not rather chuse to have our reputation in the hands of Mr. Garrick, than even in our own. It is our full purpose therefore, when we can, either separately or altogether, produce a play, to transport ourselves, to Ireland at least, and to leave it to the generofity and management of Mr. Garrick.

In fober truth, and without a joke, we do not remember any play fo ftriking and interesting in the reprefentation, and yet fo cold, fo unaffecting in the perufal, as the present tragedy. Few of our Readers, we fuppofe, can be unacquainted with the story of it, as it has been given at large in the news-papers. The scene is in Egypt; and the principal perfons who intereft us by their diftrefs, are an aged dethroned King; an amiable and excellent daughter; and a noble-fpirited heroic youth, nephew to the old King, and the lawful heir to the throne. Colonel Dow has well conducted the business of the play, and varied the fituations of his characters with great art: but when they are got into the most affecting of thofe fituations, he leaves us to Mr. Garrick; who indeed makes the most of our imaginations, and manages matters fo, that we attribute to the play what is rather due to the fcenes. We cannot but think that if the actors were made to speak the real language of the paffions which they talk about, the feveral tranfactions in the Catacombs would be among the most affecting that were ever exhibited on any stage.

The Reader will judge of the Author's talents by the following quotation :

ACT V.

Enter SET HON A, diftractedly.

SETHONA. Ofiris thunders! yet the tyrant lives,
Whilft Seraphis and Menes are no more!
O that my fpirit, like that tranfient beam,
Would take its courfe upon the veering winds.

AMASIS. Why com'ft thou thus, Sethona? Hence, retire!
SETH. (not obferving him.) It is the melancholy bird of night,
Perch'd on that mould'ring battlement, that screams

Her boding notes of woe. Ye hideous forms,
That dimly rife upon the night, and float

• See also the account of the juftly-admired Zingis, a tragedy, by the fame Author, Review, vol. xl. p. 50.

La

(going.)

AMA.
SETH.

1

AMA.

SETH.

SETH.

AMA.

SETH.

AMA.

SETH.

AMA.

In the wild tempeft of the troubled air!
Roll not your mournful voices on the storm.
Away! Your awful gestures are in vain,
All-all my fears are vanquish'd by my woes.
She muft not tarry here!

What groan was that?
In that dark cell I heard the found of chains.
This is my way! that taper fhall direct
My fteps. Ye awful spirits of my race,
I come to join you in your dark repofe!

Sethona, ftop. Let me convey thee hence.
Why doft thou gaze upon the vaulted roof,
As if fome god defcended; or the heav'ns
Were open'd to thy_view?

The cloud is broke!
Behold him mounted on the cherub's wing!
His white beard ftreams in air! The red drops fall
Upon me! He was old! Hard was the heart,
And ruthlefs was the hand!

She heeds me not!
Excefs of grief has almoft quench'd the light
Of reafon in her mind.

Was ever love

Like mine? Pale as the watry cloud his face!
Cold, cold his breast, and filent is his tongue!
His ruby lips! Sethona, like the bee,

Suck'd honey from the rofe! I knew not then
He was my brother!

It runs on Menes.

How her frenzy burns.

When his bright eyes roll'd,
I look'd not at the fun; and when he spoke
My fingers dropt the lyre. This wound was death.
It bleeds! it bleeds! This breaft was void of guilt.
Why do I weep? To-night I am the bride,

The bride of Amafis. These wedding robes
Will prove my winding sheet.

Remorse begins
To faften on my heart. I feel, I feel,
That guilt, like the envenom'd fcorpion, bears
Its own's death's fting. Her frenzy seems to add
New luftre to her beauty; and those eyes
Were not fo piercing, when the milder beams
Of wisdom temper'd their refiftless pow'r :
And yet the form alone remains. The light
Is gone, and, like the dim orb of the moon,
She labours in eclipfe.

Give me thy hand.

Hark! Who art thou?

What would'st thou with my hand?

Away, away! wash out these purple stains!
It is too late.

SETH

SETH.

SETH.

Too late! who murder'd them?

AMA. Ha! how the probes my heart, where most inflam'd?
Why do I tarry here? Let me behold
Their bleeding wounds
AMA. (topping ber.)

SETH.

It must not, shall not be !
Tyrant away! My forrows cure themselves,
And vanquish'd nature finds repofe in death.
The fountain of my tears is dry, my eyes
Burn with the raging fever of my brain.
'Tis he! 'tis Menes! Oh, I follow thee!
Roll'd in that shadowy mantle, thou shalt bear
Sethona from her woes.

[going.

(rushes out.

We think this fcene is one of the moft interefting in the play, and we have given it for that reafon: the Reader who underftands the language of Nature need not recollect Ophelia in order to judge of its merit.

W.

ART. X. The Man of Bufinefs; a Comedy. As it is acted at the Theatre-Royal in Covent-Garden. By George Colman. 8vo. 1 s. 6d. Becket. 1774.

THE

HE ftory, and many of the principal circumftances of this play, have an evident reference to fome late and wellknown events in the mercantile world; and they depend mostly on the following parts. First, that of Fable, an old banker; fecondly, Beverley, his partner, a man negligent of his affairs, given up to his pleasures, in fine, a modern man of business; thirdly, Denier, a young mifer; fourthly, Golding, another partner, but refident abroad in the Indies; and, fifthly, Lydia, the daughter of Golding. Beverley embarraffes his affairs in the ways common to a man of pleafure. In conducting the several circumstances of his folly, the Author copies the manners of the times, and yet avoids every thing trite and uninterefting. As Mr. Colman can afford to be criticised, we are the lefs fcrupulous in remarking whatever we imagine is in any degree unworthy of his talents. The following scene between Beverley and Lydia, we think, is not drawn after Nature. Beverley's manner of declaring himself is neither delicate nor in character, as Mr. Colman would have us conceive of him. Lydia is generous and good, but she does not speak the language of a woman in fuch a fituation.

Manent BEVERLEY and LYDIA.

(They remain fome time filent.)

Bev. Excufe me, Madam, if I venture to express how deeply I am fenfible of your appearing to be affected by my misfortunes: and yet I cannot but confefs that I feel your compaffion almost as painfully as a reproach-for I am confcious I have not deserved it.