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Reason. Then of course she slept all day?

Sorrow. A considerable part of it.

Reason. Then, as to her temper?

Sorrow. Capricious.

Reason.. Extravagant?

Sorrow. My purse was at her command.
Reason. And she exhausted it?

Sorrow. Frequently.

Reason. Now let us cast up the account, and see what you have lost, and what you have gained. In the first place you married a woman for her beauty, a short-lived flower; and she married you for your wealth, which could scarce gratify her vanity and extravagance; you thought you took an angel to your arms; but the result has proved that there are fallen angels. Instead of consulting your happiness, she poisoned it: instead of pouring the balm of consolation into your mind when it was afflicted, she poured a torrent of words into your ears: she consulted her glass oftener than she consulted your countenance; her nights were spent in reading romances, so that her head was filled with imaginary adventures, and heroes that never existed: such a defenceless castle was easily besieged. Why, if you view all this with an indifferent eye, instead of a loss, you have gained. If a physician cured you of a tertian fever, you would reward him with thanks and money, and what should be the reward of that physician who has rid you of a quotidian fever Your mind will be no longer distracted with the caprices of a woman, whose temper was not even to be regulated by the weathercock, and whose tongue would run for hours together without winding up; you will be no longer besiged by a train of milliners and perfumers. Little you know how much you are indebted to him that carried off such a disease. he was your friend pity him; if he was your enemy rejoice. You are now restored to your health, and a little time and reflection will restore you to your senses. Sorrow. I can't restrain my tears.

If

Reason. If carried away by force, forgive her; but if willingly?

Sorrow. Willingly: she stole off with her gallant in the dead of night.

Reason. Many a man would pray for such a night, and hail the annual return of it with feasting and music. Sorrow. My unhappy wife went off willingly.

Reason. If she loved you, she would not have done so: how then can you weep for a woman that is unworthy of your affection?

Sorrow. My unhappy wife!

Reason. Truly she will be unhappy, and he that stole her more so: repentance quickly treads on the heels of unlawful appetite. But you should remember, that this is an injury kings could not escape: for Masinissa stole away the wife of Syphax, and Herod stole away the wife of Philip, and Menelaus had two wives, and they were both stolen.

zens.

MR. WHITFIELD.

MR. WHITFIELD's eloquence was of a peculiar cast, and well adapted to his auditory, as his figures were drawn from sources within the reach of their understanding, and frequently from the circumstances of the moment. The application was often very happy, and sometimes rose to the true sublime: for he was a man of warm imagination, and not wholly devoid of taste. On his first visit to Scotland, he was received in Edinburgh with a kind of frantic joy, by a large body of the citi An unhappy man, who had forfeited his life to the offended laws of his country, was to be executed the day after his arrival. Mr. Whitfield mingled with the throng, and seemed highly pleased with the solemnity and decorum with which the most awful scene in human nature was conducted. His appearance, however, drew the eyes of all around him, and raised a variety of opinions as to the motivss which led him to join in the crowd. The next day, being Sunday, he preached to a large body of men, women, and children, in a field near the city. In the course of his sermon, he adverted to the execution which had taken place the preceding day. "I know," said he, " that many of you will find it difficult to reconcile my appearance yesterday with my character. Many of you, I know, will say, that my moments would have been better employed in praying for the unhappy man, than in attending him to the fatal tree: and that, perhaps, curiosity was the only cause that converted me into a spectator on that occasion: but those who ascribe that uncharitable motive to me are under a mistake.1 witnessed the conduct of almost every one present on

that awful occasion, and I was highly pleased therewith. It has given me a very favourable impression of the Scottish nation. Your sympathy was visible on your countenance, and reflected the greatest credit on your hearts; particularly when the moment arrived that your unhappy fellow-creature was to close his eyes on this world for ever, you all, as if moved by one impulse, turned your heads aside, and wept. Those tears were precious, and will be held in remembrance. How different was this, when the Saviour of mankind was extended on the cross-the Jews, instead of sympathizing in his sorrows, triumphed in them. They reviled him with bitter expressions, with words even more bitter than the gall and vinegar which they handed him to drink ; not one of all that witnessed his pains, turned the head aside, even in the last pang. Yes, there was one, that glorious luminary (pointing to the sun) veiled his bright face, and sailed on in tenfold night."

JOHN DENNIS.

From a MS. Collection in the Hand-writing of the late Dr. Lyon.

THIS gentleman had certainly great merit in the commonwealth of learning, but was unhappy from some peculiarities that his disappointments in the world had seemed tó make almost natural to his temper, at least as some were of opinion, who made but small allowances for his unhappy circumstances. His talents, in short, created him many enemies among the small wits and minor poets, who, in some sort, made it a common cause to depress a judgment of which they had reason to be afraid. If, however, he had causelessly or unjustly offended any one, the wretched circumstances through which he had struggled, to a tedious, an indigent and helpless old age, was a revenge which the most exasperated mind could not wish to its worst enemy: and it will be always remembered, to the praise of two or three gentlemen of exalted genius as well as humanity, that they could overlook his little failings, and do him real benefit, for the sake of his greater excellencies. The political writings of this unhappy gentleman, together with several MSS. which never appeared, manifest his steady love to his country, and strict adherence to the Protestant interest. As to his other pieces, let better judges give them their due character: we shall only add, that we think he may be called the last classic wit of King Charles's reign.

REVIEW OF BOOKS.

PROBATQUE CULPATQUE.

An Examination of the Charges maintained by Messrs. Malone, Chalmers, and others, of Ben Jonson's Enmity, &c. towards Shakspeare. By Oc'avius Gilchrist. 8vo. pp. 62. Taylor and Hessey. 1808.

IT has been so strongly and repeatedly urged, that Ben Jonson was the enemy of Shakspeare, that very few have latterly entertained a doubt upon the subject. The authorities were high on which the assertions rested, and were consequently not much questioned. As a point of fact therefore it is material to examine into the ground of the accusation, and it is but just to the fame of rare Ben to rescue his reputation from a charge which, if proved, our regard for Shakspeare would naturally aggravate into a high and unpardonable misdemeanor against the great Sovereign of the Drama. Mr. Gilchrist has undertaken this laudable task, and he has proved incontestably, that there is no just ground for the imputation. We never gave the least credit to the story, but we were far from aware that such indubitable testimony could be adduced in its refutation. The principal arguments on which Mr. Gilchrist relies are these: Tradition has given to Shakspeare the merit of having introduced his companion to the stage. If this be true, and there is nothing to contradict it, it would be unfair to tax Jonson, without good foundation, with ingratitude to his friend. The lines to the memory of his beloved William Shakspeare are in the highest strain of eulogium. No writer of that day or the present has gone beyond them. For instance,

While I confess thy writings to be such

As neither man, nor muse, can praise too much.

Soul of the age,

The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage.

Triumph, my Britain! thou hast one to shew,
To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe.
He was not of an age, but for all time.

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Farmer calls these verses "the warmest panegyrick on Shakspeare that ever was written."

George Steevens believed that this praise would not have been bestowed on Shakspeare had he been living, This, as an opinion only, goes for nothing. He has failed to support it with any proof of Ben's disinclination on other occasions to acknowledge the merit of his illustrious competitor. Malone infers that there had been a quarrel between the two poets, from the Return of Parnassus, wherein Kempe, in a supposed dialogue with Burbage, is made to say,

"Few of the university pen plays well; they smell too much of that writer Ovid, and that writer Metamorphosis, and talk too much of Proserpina and Juppiter. Why here's our fellow Shakspeare put them (the university poets) all down, ay, and Ben Jonson too. O, that Ben Jonson is a pestilent fellow; he brought up Horace, giving the poets a pill, but our fellow Shakspeare hath given him a purge that made him bewray his credit" In this proof of a quarrel according to Malone, and Mr. Chalmers, Mr. Gilchrist sees no reference to personal animosity; it was a just testimony to the superior merit of "the poet of nature" over the writings of more "learned. candidates for fame;" and the well merited compliment is very appropriately put into the mouth of Will Kempe, one of "Shakspeare's fellows." "Shakspeare (adds Malone) has sufficiently marked his disregard for the calumniator of his fame, by not leaving him any memorial by his will"!!!

These lines, from Jonson's Prologue to his Every Man in his Humour,

"He rather prays, you would be pleas'd to see
One such to-day, as other plays should be ;
Where neither chorus wafts you o'er the seas,

Nor creaking throne comes down the boys to please,"
Mr. Malone would convert into " a clumsy sarcasm" on
Shakspeare's Henry V.

To this Mr, Gilchrist very satisfactorily replies, " Jonson's design in this prologue was clearly to ridicule the tricks and stratagems, the phantasmagoria, and Sadler'swells' antics, by which his contemporaries engaged the frequenters of the stage in that early age of theatrical representation, and to win them by ridicule from buffoo pery, bombast, and empty machinery,

"To deeds, and language, such as men do use;
And persons such as comedy would chuse

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