Cowley's Belle's Strategin. distracted me for a week; and whether I should be mani in Letit. And is it poffible that you felt no other care? Hardy. And pray, of what fort may your cares be, Mrs. Leinar Hardy. Then what's all this melancholy about ing to be married? and, what's more, to a fenfible more to a young girl, to a handsome man? And lancholy for, I fay? a rou go Mrs. Rack. Why, becaufe he is hand foment z caufe she's over head and ears in love with him; all your foreknowledge had not told you a word of Letit. Fye, Caroline ! Hardy. Well, come, do you tell me what's you don't like him, hang the figning and fealing. and yet I can't say that neither; for you know his father and me upwards of four core thousand pound. him if you won't have him: if he won't have you, inde yours. All that's clear, engrofs'd upon parchment, and man fet his hand to it whilst he was a-dying.-A. "see you'll never live to fee 'em come together; but taff it "fhall be chriftened Jeremiah after you, the I promife come, I fay, what is the matter? Don't you fizi Letit. I fear, Sir-if I muft fpeak-I fear I in Mr. Doricourt's eyes, than he appeared in mine. • Hardy. There you are mistaken; for I akei me he liked you vaftly. Don't you think he mut ve temas to her? * Mrs. Rack. Why really I think fo, as I was Letit. My dear Sir, I am convinced he hai tore's fpirit or invention in woman, he fhall. Hardy. Right, Girl; go to your toilette Letit. It is not my toilette that can fer ef ftruck me, if you will not oppose it, which facere fuccefs. Hardy. Oppofe it! not I indeed! Wherit does not like me enough, I want him to like me. our next interview endeavour to heighten milie Hardy. Who the devil could have forestr Mrs. Rack. Heaven and earth! Letita Letit. As ferious as the most imporam asets mands. · Mrs. Rack. Why endeavour to make fim dike Letit. Becaufe 'tis much easier to come oppofite, than to transform indifference in re Mrs. Rack. That may be good philoper find it a bad maxim. 'Letit. I have the ftrongest confidence z z unufual fpirits, and on third im we happiness. I am impati REV. April 1782. In the next interview, wherein Letitia endeavours to heighten Doricourt's indifference into diflike, fhe fucceeds in her purpose; which is what we can hardly fay for the Author: fince that interview exhibits little more than a vapid imitation of the ideot behaviour of Maria in The Citizen. The Author indeed seems to fink under the idea of imitation; and rifes proportionably, as it were by rebound, when the proceeds to exhibit her heroine, in all her attractions, at the masquerade. Mrs. Cowley is then triumphant, as well as Mifs Hardy; and we will transcribe the paffage, as we cannot lay a more favourable fpecimen of the comedy before our Readers : • Doricourt and Letitia come forward. Dor. By Heavens! I never was charm'd till now.-English beauty-French vivacity-wit-elegance. Your name, my Angel!-tell me your name, though you perfift in concealing your face. Let. My name has a spell in it. Dor. I thought fo; it must be Charming. • Dor. I'll answer for its force. Let. Suppose it Harriet, or Charlotte, or Maria, or— Dor. Hang Harriet, and Charlotte, and Maria—the name your Father gave ye!. Let. That can't be worth knowing, 'tis fo tranfient a thing. Let. Heav'n forbid my name fhould be lafting till I am married. Dor. Married! The chains of Matrimony are too heavy and vulgar for fuch a fpirit as yours.- -The flowery wreaths of Cupid are the only bands you fhould wear. Let. They are the lightest, I believe: but 'tis poffible to wear thofe of marriage gracefully.-Throw 'em loofely round, and twift 'em in a True-Lover's Knot for the Bofom. • Dor. An Angel! But what will you be when a Wife ? Let. A Woman.-If my husband should prove a Churl, a Fool, or a Tyrant, I'd break his heart, ruin his fortune, elope with the first pretty Fellow that afk'd me-and return the contempt of the world with fcorn, whilft my feelings prey'd upon my life. • Dor. Amazing! [Aide] What if you lov'd him, and he were ⚫ worthy of your love? Let. Why, then I'd be any thing-and all!-Grave, gay, capricious the foul of whim, the fuirit of variety-live with him in the eye of fashion, or in the fhase of retirement-change my country, my fex,-feaft with him in an Esquimaux hut, or a Perfan pavilion -join him in the victorious war-dance on the borders of Lake Ontario, or fleep to the foft breathings of the flute in the cinnamon groves of Ceylon-dig with him in the mines of Golgonda, or enter the dangerous precincts of the Mogul's S regio-cheat him of his wishes, and overturn his empire, to restore the Hufband of my Heart to the bleffings of Liberty and Love. Dor. Delightful wildness! Oh, to catch thee, and hold thee for ever in this little cage! [Attempting to clasp ber. Let. * Let. Hold, Sir! Though Cupid muft give the bait that tempts me to the fnare, 'tis Hymen muft fpread the net to catch me. • Der. 'Tis in vain to assume airs of coldness-Fate has ordain'd you mine. Let. How do you know? • Dor. I feel it here. I never met with a woman fo perfectly to my tafte; and I won't believe it form'd you fo, on purpose to tantalize me. [Afide. my chains. Let. This moment is worth my whole exiftence. 'Dor. Come, fhew me your face, and rivet Let. To-morrow you shall be fatisfied. • Dor. To-morrow! and not to-night? • Let. No. you? Dor. Where then fhall I wait on you to-morrow? Where fee Let. You fhall fee me in an hour when you least expect me. 'Let. I like to be myfterious. At prefent be content to know that I am a Woman of Family and Fortune. Adieu! • Enter Hardy. • Har. Adieu! Then I am come at the fag end. [Afide.] • Dor. Let me fee you to your carriage. Let. As you value knowing me, ftir not a flep. If I am follow'd, you never see me more. [Exit.' Most of the fable, that relates to Lætitia's ftratagem, is conducted with adroitnefs, elegance, and vivacity; but there is unfortunately grafted on it, after the manner of our late comedies, an underplot, which divides the intereft, and interrupts the current of the story. The idea of the character of Sir George Touchwood, with the little circumftance of his jealous cruelty to the bird, is, if we recollect, taken from the Contes Moraux of Marmontel; but, borrowed or original, the interefts of Sir George and his Lady might have been more advantageously dif played, and had better have been made the ground of a separate drama, than thus interwoven with the adventures of Mifs Hardy. In regard to the manners and dialogue, though the play contains many lively traits of character, as well as lucky hits of wit and humour, yet they do not feem to proceed from a perfon familiarly acquainted with the habits of high life, or the converfation of men; the reprefentations of both which the Author feems to have gathered from novels and news-papers, rather than to have transcribed them from the book of Nature. Some of the dialogue is indeed in a style that we never before met with in any writings, or any converfation. I could (fays Sir George Touchwood) weep over that purity, expofed to the fullying breath of fashion, and the ton, in whole latitudinary vortex chaftity herself can scarcely move unfpotted!' U 2 The The characters are not all difcriminated. Thofe of the Heroine, Doricourt, and Hardy, are pre-eminent. On the whole, the Comedy of The Belle's Stratagem approaches much nearer to dramatic excellence, than any other piece yet produced by Mrs. Cowley. ART. XI. Scottish Ballads. Small 8vo. 2s. 6d. fewed. Nichols. 1781. ESIDES a corrected edition of fuch tragic Ballads as are BE to be met with in former collections, this publication contains four others, that have hitherto been preserved only by tradition, and a fecond Part or continuation of the beautiful fragment of Hardyknute. For the recovery of this laft the Editor acknowledges himself indebted to the memory of a Lady. The Public will recollect that it was to fomething more than to the memory of a Lady they were indebted for the former Part *. Our Editor, however, fturdily denies the poffibility of Mrs. Wardlaw, or, indeed, any one of modern times, having that fhare in its production which Dr. Percy, and all competent and impartial judges, have hitherto fuppofed, That fhe did not refuse the name,' fays he, of being the original composer is a ftrange argument: would not the firft poet of Europe think it added to his reputation? We are as ready as the Editor to think it would but it implies a strange opinion of the spirit and honefty of fuch poet, to fuppofe he would fubmit to be indebted for his reputation to a lye. But even though the antiquity of the former Part refted upon the moft immoveable bafis, we should have had many doubts refpecting the authenticity of this; which, though not without merit, is evidently the production of a very inferior hand. As the Reader may perhaps wish to have fome fpecimen of thefe reliques of traditional poetry, we fhall lay before them the following; which, however, as far as its antiquity is concerned, must be taken upon the faith of the Editor. THE DEATH OF MENTEITH. Shrilly fhriek'd the raging wind, We awfum blink, throuch the dark ha, See Reliques of ancient English Poetry, Vol. II. p. 87. See also the fame work, Vol. III. p. 98. 1. 109, where the Reader will find in the ballad of Child Maurice, or as it is, perhaps, improperly filed, Gill Maurice, a tanza and half which the prefent Editor has omitted, as the interpolation of a modern and very inferior hand; but surely without reafon. • O hear • O hear ye nae, frae mid the loch, • Sae evir does the spirit warn, • Whan we fum dethe maun mane, • What wae wald fill my hairt gin ye "Ye neid nae feir, my leman deir, His man cam rinning to the ha Sir John Menteith, your faes are neir, • We fpeid, or ye'll be flain.' "Tak ye this gown, my deir Sir John "To hide your fhyning mail: Prefixed to thefe Ballads are two introductory Differtations; on the Oral Tradition of Poetry, and on the Tragic Ballad. They tell us a great deal about Egypt and Ofiris, and the Magi and Mofes, and Deborah and the Druids, &c. with erudite references to Ariftot.; Scalig.; Dubos; Trapp; Burke; Herodot.; Diodor. Sicul.; Jambl. de vit. Pythag.; Ælian. Var. Hift.; Ammian. Marcel.; Saxo Grammat.; Jo. Mag. Forfæ. ; Jones Comment. Antiq. Hibern.; Differt. de Bar.; Rouffeau Dict. de Muf.; Hickes Ling. Vet. Thef.; Le Clerc Biblioth. Univ. ; Ol. Worm.; Macpherfon, &c. &c. &c. And what is all this difplay of moft profound and marvellous erudition to prove? Why, that before men could write, they trufted to their memories; and that oral tradition is both fafe and eafy; and, ergo (for this feems to be the principal, though concealed, drift of the whole), that the long poems of Offian have been faithfully tranfmitted down to us. Be it fo: as we mean not, at prefent, to take any decifive part in U 3 the |