By thine own fancy trac'd; look not upon it: Which on th' approach frowns darkly. Roufe thy fpirit; My heaviest let; thou who should't be my stay." P. 78. The scene in which Elizabeth folicits the Countefs, exhibits a truly original fituation, and is finely written. As a defcription of a fudden inundation, the following cannot cafily be exceeded, "I am now come from gazing on the fight. Trunks of huge trees torn by the roots,—ay, fave us! And floating carcafes of perifh'd things, Bloated and black, are borne along; whilft currents The water's natural bed, do loudly war Thefe will, doubtlefs, be fufficient fpecimens of the Tragedy of Rayner, to excite the attention of thofe whofe curiofity refpecting it may hitherto have been dormant. To analyze it more particularly we fhall not undertake: convinced that whatever might be thought objectionable, with a view to representation, might easily be removed; and that the general merit of it is fuch, as well deferves that care and attention. We might have faid at firft, but is not now too late to fay, that the prefent volume contains three dramas: not written on the fubject of particular paffions, like those which Mifs B. has published before, but with the lefs limited defign of common dramas. The firft of the three is Rayner, which we have now commended. The fecond is a comedy, entitled, The Country Inn. The third, a tragedy on a great historical hiftorical fubject, entitled, "Conftantine Paleologus, or the laft of the Cæfars." Of the comedy, the lefs is faid the better. With the majority of readers, we have always thought the talents of the writer much less formed for the comic than the serious drama. But, if in her former comedies fhe flood greatly below her tragic flation, in the prefent fhe is far inferior to what she has before attempted, The Country Inn is, indeed, fo feeble in character, incident, and dialogue, that, with all our knowledge of authorial partiality, we can hardly account for its introduction into this volume. In the tragedy of Conftantine are well delineated the leading circumftances of that great event, the taking of Conftantinople by the Turks, which put an end to the imperial line of Cæfars. The account of this play, which the author herfelf has given, well deferves to be read. The "The last play of this volume was written in the hope of being brought out upon our largeft theatre, enriched as it then was by two actors whofe noble appearance and strong powers of expreffion feemed to me peculiar fuited to its two principal characters. The fubject of it is taken from Gibbon's account of the fiege of Conftantinople by the Turks. It was a fubject that preffed itself upon me, at a time when I had no thoughts of writing at all, and (if I may ufe the expreffion) would be written upon. character there difplayed of Conftantine Paleologus, the last of the Cæfars, a modeft, affectionate, domeftic man; nurfed in a luxurious court, in habits of indulgence and indolence; without ambition, even without hope, roufing himself up on the approach of unavoidable ruin; and deferted by every christian prince in Europe, deferted by his own worthlefs and enervated subjects, fupported alone by a generous band, chiefly of strangers, devoting themfelves to him from generous attachment ;—to see him thus circumstanced, nobly fronting the ftorm, and perifhing as became the last of a long line of kings, the last of the Romans ;this was a view of a man-of noble and dignified exertion, which it was impoffible for me to refift, though well aware that no play I am capable of writing can ever be equal to what such a subject deferves. So much was I pleafed with thofe generous ties-may I be permitted to make use of a fcripture phrafe, and say, those "cords of a man?" binding together the noble Paleologus and his brave imperial band, that, had I followed my own inclination, delineating thofe would have been the principal object of the piece. But convinced that fomething more was requifite to in. tereft a common audience, and give fufficient variety to the fcenes, I introduced the character of Valeria, and brought forward the domeftic qualities of Conftantine as well as thofe of the unfortunate prince and beloved leader." P. xiv. Who What circumstance prevented the reception of this play, at the theatre alluded to, we are not told, To us it feems that the theatre might have found its account in producing it. There is enough of buftle and fhow to pleafe the multitude, and there is abundance of that finely written dialogue, which judicious hearers could not but approve. Who will not feel the merit of thefe lines? "Ah! whereunto do all thefe turmoils tend- More fearful than itself.A dark progreffion Difficult as it must be to give on the ftage the ideas of a general affault of a great city, we think that the author has well felected the circumftances for that purpofe. The character of Conftantine is alfo rendered interefling, and is. throughout, well drawn. His afking pardon of his friends before his laft folemn act of religion is well conceived, and as well expreffed. We give a part of this paffage. CONSTANTINE. "My friends, there greatly preffes on my heart OTHUS. "Then fpeak it, royal fire, we all attend With ears of love and moft profound refpect. CONSTANTINE. "Thus ftation'd on a dark and awful verge, In company with you, my noble friends, But, on my foul, I have defired, in this folemn act, I have been one, plac'd on a giddy height Of blind and foolish pride. I have been one In much real feeblenefs, upheld, defended, Of valiant firangers, owing me no fervice, OTHUS. "O no, most royal Conftantine! to us OMNES. "O no, thou needeft none! As we to thee have faithful followers been, Thou'ft ever been to us a gen'rous lord." P. 376. It will detract very little from the merit of these two tragedies to mention, that here and there, though in very few inftances, we have obferved inaccuracy of language. It is very difficult for a writer, not educated learnedly, entirely to avoid these blemishes. Of the few inftances we have noticed, a part may be errors of the prefs; we fhall not therefore call them forth to notice. It is a very high praise of Mifs J. Baillie's poetry, that it is perfectly free from modern affectations. She employs our language as fhe finds it prepared for her in pure and claffical writers, and a noble inftrument it is in her employment of it. The ftrained expreffions and new-coined words of affected writers never produce the effect intended by them. The words of this poetefs have all the weight the wishes to give them, and caufe no furprife, but fuch as is confiftent with admiration, and with pathos. * We may except the words fombre, and fombre-looking, PP. 324 and 319. Sombre is not English; nor even fombrous, which fome write. ART. ART. III. War in Difguife; or, The Frauds of the Neutral Flags. (Concluded from Page 622.) HAVING thus expofed the frauds of neutral merchants, and shown the evils arifing from them, the author proceeds to point out the remedy for thofe evils, and to prove our right of applying it. "If," fays he, "neutrals have no right, but through our own gratuitous conceffion, to carry on the colonial trade of our enemies; we may, after a reasonable notice, withdraw that ruinous indulgence; and, in the mean time, hold those who claim the benefit of it, to a ftrict compliance with its terms. If, after the revocation of the licence, the commerce fhall be ftill continued, we may juftifiably punish the violaters of our belligerent rights, by the feizure and confifcation of fuch fhips, as fhall be found engaged in the offence, together with their cargoes." He further shows, that this remedy is an allowable course, and that it cannot fail to be effectual; for that the enemy would then be obliged to hoift again their own commercial colours, and often to hazard their fquadrons and fleets for the relief of their colonies, as was usual in former wars; and he thinks, that Buonaparte, from his known partiality to the windward Antilles, might be induced to incur rifques for their protection greater than their value, in a national view, might warrant. The author then examines the queftion, whether this is a cafe in which we have a right to any remedy at all? Admiting fairly, that if the fuppreffion of this commerce requires a breach of juftice, we ought to follow the advice of Arifides to the Athenians, on a well-known occafion, and inlexibly abstain. He proves, however, our right, firft, because "the neutral powers have all affented to the rule of the war 1756, in point of principle, by fubmitting to its partial application." But, admitting that we are bound to fhow a reafon for withdrawing our indulgence, we may fairly alledge, that it has been very grofsly abufed, and that felf-prefervation demands from us the revocation of the licence which we gave. If, therefore, this commerce were lawful in its origin and objects, ftill if its further profecution be incon fiftent with our fafety, the obligations of peace and amity call on the neutral powers to abftain from it. But he infifts, that there are no fuch conflicting rights, and referring to the argument |