men; but they are perfectly aftonished that an opinion, which they think fo contrary to common fense, should subfift among the rational, that is to fay, the male part of Chriftians. It is impoffible," added Mr. Montagu, to drive it out of the head of a Muffulman, that women are creatures of a fubordinate fpecies, created merely to comfort and amufe men during their journey through this vain world, but by no means worthy of accompanying believers to paradife, where females, of a nature far fuperior to women, wait with impatience to receive all pious Muffulmen into their arms.”

It is needless to relate to you any more of our conversation. A lady, to whom I was giving an account of it the day on which it happened, could with difficulty allow me to proceed thus far in my narrative; but, interrupting me with impatience, the faid, the was furprised I could repeat all the nonfenfical, deteftable, impious maxims of thofe odious Mahometans; and the thought Mr. Montagu fhould be fent back to Egypt, with his long beard, and not be allowed to propagate opinions, the bare mention of which, however reasonable they might appear to Turks, ought not to be tolerated in any Chriftian land.'

From our Author's remarks on the Venetian Drama, the following particulars may be extracted, for the English Reader's amusement:

• I had got, I don't know how, the most contemptuous opinion of the Italian drama. I had been told, there was not a tolerable actor at prefent in Italy, and I had been long taught to confider their comedy as the most defpicable stuff in the world, which could pot amufe, or even draw a fmile from any perfon of tafte, being quite deffitute of true humour, full of ribaldry, and only proper for the meaneft of the vulgar. Impreffed with thefe fentiments, and eager to give his Grace a full demonftration of their juftnefs, I accompanied the D- of H. to the ftage-box of one of the playhouses the very day of our arrival at Venice.

The piece was a comedy, and the moft entertaining character in it was that of a man who ftuttered. In this defect, and in the fingular grimaces with which the actor accompanied it, confifted a great part of the amusement.

Difgufted at fuch a pitiful fubftitution for wit and humour, I expreffed a contempt for an audience which could be entertained by fuch buffoonery, and who could take pleasure in the exhibition of a natural infirmity.

While we inwardly indulged fentiments of felf-approbation, on account of the refinement and fuperiority of our own tafte, and fup. ported the dignity of thofe fentiments by a difdainful gravity of countenance, the Stutterer was giving a piece of information to Harlequin which greatly interested him, and to which he liftened with every mark of eagerness. This unfortunate fpeaker had just arrived at the most important part of his narrative, which was, to acquaint the impatient liftener where his miftrefs was concealed, when he unluckily tumbled on a word of fix or seven fyllables, which completely obftructed the progrefs of his narration. He attempted it again and again, but always without fuccefs. You may have obferved that, though many other words would explain his meaning equally well,

you

you may as foon make a faint change his religion, as prevail on a ftutterer to accept of another word in place of that at which he has ftumbled. He adheres to his first word to the laft, and will fooner expire with it in his throat, than give it up for any other you may offer. Harlequin, on the prefent occafion, prefented his friend with a dozen but he rejected them all with difdain, and perfifted in his unsuccessful attempts on that which had first come in his way. At length, making a defperate effort, when all the fpectators were gaping in expectation of his fafe delivery, the cruel word came up with its broad fide foremost, and ftuck directly across the unhappy man's wind-pipe. He gaped, and panted, and croaked; his face flufhed, and his eyes feemed ready to start from his head. Harlequin unbuttoned the Stutterer's waistcoat, and the neck of his fhirt; he fanned his face with his cap, and held a bottle of hartfhorn to his nofe. At length, fearing his patient would expire, before he could give the defired intelligence, in a fit of defpair he pitched his head full in the dying man's ftomach, and the word bolted out of his mouth to the moft diftant part of the house.

This was performed in a manner fo perfectly droll, and the humorous abfurdity of the expedient came fo unexpectedly upon me, that I immediately burft into a moft exceffive fit of laughter, in which I was accompanied by the D-, and by your young friend Jack, who was along with us; and our laughter continued in fuch loud, violent, and repeated fits, that the attention of the audience beng turned from the ftage to our box, occafioned a renewal of the mirth all over the playhouse with greater vociferation than at first.

afked me, If

When we returned to the inn, the D- of HI were as much convinced as ever, that a man must be perfectly devoid of tafte, who could condefcend to laugh at an Italian comedy?'

Our Author's hiftory of the Travels and Adventures of the Holy Chapel of Loretto, may be given as an inftance of that grave and fober ftrain of irony, in which the writer is most happy who preferves the graveft countenance; and in which Dr. Moore is very fuccefsful:

The Holy Chapel of Loretto, all the world knows, was origi nally a small house in Nazareth, inhabited by the Virgin Mary, in which the was faluted by the Angel, and where the bred our Saviour. After their deaths, it was held in great veneration by all believers in Jefus, and at length confecrated into a chapel, and dedicated to the Virgin; upon which occafion St. Luke made that identical image, which is ftill preserved here, and dignified with the name of our Lady of Loretto. This fan&tified edifice was allowed to fojourn in Galilee as long as that district was inhabited by Chriftians; but when infidels got poffeffion of the country, a band of angels, to fave it from pollution, took it in their arms, and conveyed it from Nazareth to a castle in Dalmatia. This fact might have been called in queftion by incredulous people, had it been performed in a fecret manner; but, that it might be manifeft to the most short-fighted fpectator, and evident to all who were not perfectly deaf as well as blind, a blaze of celestial Light, and a concert of divine mufic, accompanied it during the whole journey; befides, when the angels, to reft themfelves, fet it down in

a little

a little wood near the road, all the trees of the forest bowed their heads to the ground, and continued in that respectful pofture as long as the Sacred Chapel remained among them. But, not having been entertained with fuitable refpect at the castle above mentioned, the fame indefatigable angels carried it over the fea, and placed it in a field belonging to a noble lady, called Lauretta, from whom the Chapel takes its name. This field happened unfortunately to be frequented at that time by highwaymen and murderers: a circumftance with which the angels undoubtedly were not acquainted when they placed it there. After they were better informed, they removed it to the top of a hill belonging to two brothers, where they imagined it would be perfectly fecure from the dangers of robbery or affaffination; but the two brothers, the proprietors of the ground, being equally enamoured of their new vifitor, became jealous of each other, quarrelled, fought, and fell by mutual wounds. After this fatal cataftrophe, the angels in waiting finally moved the Holy Chapel to the eminence where it now ftands, and has stood these four hundred years, having loft all relifh for travelling.

To filence the captious objections of cavillers, and give full fatisfaction to the candid inquirer, a deputation of refpectable perfons was fent from Loretto to the city of Nazareth, who, previous to their fetting out, took the dimenfions of the Holy Houfe with the moft fcrupulous exa&tnefs. On their arrival at Nazareth, they found the citizens fcarcely recovered from their aftonishment; for it may be eafily fuppofed, that the fudden difappearance of a house from the middle of a towp, would naturally occafion a confiderable degree of furprife, even in the moft philofophic minds. The landlords had been alarmed in a particular manner, and had made enquiries, and offered rewards all over Galilee, without having been able to get any fatisfactory account of the fugitive. They felt their intereft much affected by this incident; for, as houses had never before been confidered as moveables, their value fell immediately. This indeed might be partly owing to certain evil-minded perfons, who, taking advantage of the public alarm, for selfish purposes, circulated a report, that feveral other houfes were on the wing, and would most probably difappear in a few days. This affair being fo much the object of attention at Nazareth, and the builders of that city declaring, they would as foon build upon quick-fand as on the vacant space which the Chapel had left at its departure, the deputies from Loretto had no difficulty in difcovering the foundation of that edifice, which they carefully compared with the dimenfions they had brought from Loretto, and found that they tallied exactly. Of this they made oath at their return; and in the mind of every rational perfon, it remains no longer a queftion, whether this is the real houfe which the Virgin Mary inhabited, or not. Many of those particulars are narrated, with other circumftances, in books which are fold here; but I have been informed of one circumftance, which has not hitherto been published in any book, and which, I dare fwear, you will think ought to be made known for the benefit of future travellers. This morning, immediately before we left the inn, to vifit the Holy Chapel, an Italian fervant, whom the D of H-engaged at Venice, took me afide, and told me, in a very serious manner, that ftrangers were apt

fecretly

fecretly to break off little pieces of the stone belonging to the Santa Cafa, in the hopes that fuch precious relics might bring them good fortune; but he earnestly entreated me not to do any fuch thing: for he knew a man at Venice, who had broken off a finall corner of one of the flones, and flipt it into his breeches pocket anperceived; but, fo far from bringing him good fortune, it had burnt its way out, like aqua fortis, before he left the Chapel, and scorched his thighs in fuch a miferable manner, that he was not able to fit on horfeback for a month. I thanked Giovanni for his obliging hint, and affured him I should not attempt any theft of that nature.'

Dr. M. gives us many more particulars relative to this celebrated chapel, and to the innumerable pilgrimages fo devoutly performed by good Catholics, to this favourite refidence of the holy Virgin; but for these we must refer to the book.

The foregoing extracts are made from the first of these two volumes of the fecond we shall give an account in our next.

ART. XVII. The Generous Impoftor: a Comedy. As it is performed at the Theatre-Royal, Drury-Lane. 8vo. I s. 6 d.

Robfon.

T

1781.

HE main fable of this comedy may be collected from the following portion of the laft A&:

Sir Harry folus. Unavailing anguifh! Ufelefs remorfe! Reflections that come too late! Why did you not rather prevent the ruin that o'erwhelms me? Here I fit abandoned by the world-and every way to be moft miferable.-I feel that I have deferved it all. Where now are the officious friends that rioted in my bounty? Flatterers who feemed to live but to ferve me? You are now fled from this wretched bankrupt.-Them I could forgive.-But you, my Harriet! You whom I ftill feel I love-That you should purfue me to deftruction-That you fhould plan my ruin, and, when you had accomplished it, infult me!-This is the dagger that ftrikes me to the heart. What have I then to hope? What should I wait for? Shall I live to be pointed at by every finger? To beg, and be denied? To feek, and be avoided?-Shut out-) Ha! there is but one remedy, and-this-this

me.

[Snatching up his fword, Mrs. Courtly enters from the door, and
falling on her knees, flops his hand.]

Mrs. Courtly. Hold, unhappy man! what would you do?
Sir Harry. Barbarous, inhuman woman!

Mrs. Courtly. O ftay your fatal purpose! Look on me-liften to

Sir Harry. Cruel, and unfeeling to the laft! Would you debar me of the only refource your rapacious hands have left me?

Mrs. Courtly. By all you love-by your precious life, dearer to my foul than my own, I conjure you hear me. All that my rapacious hands have taken from you is yours.

Sir Harry. What artifice is yet left for you to practise on my cre

dulity?

* Mrs. Courtly. That which must reconcile you to me, or leave me for ever wretched and hopeless.-Could you but fee that heart you accufe of unfeelingness[Takes hold of him.

Sir Harry. Hang not on me thus-Be gone, or you fhall fee me perish in your prefence, and fhall glut yourself with my blood, as you have with my fortune.

• Mrs. Courtly. O! but a moment's hearing.—If these ftreaming eyes, that witness the anguish of my heart-if all these terrors I feel for your fafety, cannot convince you-believe at least this deed—I ruined only to fave you. If I confented to accept your inheritance, it was only that you might owe your all to me. That all, I here refign you. By that deed you are again poffeffed of your former fortune.-Live, live, my Glenville, and enjoy it.

• Sir Harry. Can this be poffible!

Mrs. Courtly. This was the only way, I had, to fave and reclaim you. All other expedients I had attempted in vain. Love at length fuggefted this artifice, and prompted me to anticipate that ruin, which, from the courfe of life you indulged in, would fpeedily have been effected by other hands. O, could I paint to you the painful ftruggles the profecution of this scheme has coft me-the meanneffes to which I have flooped-the violence I have been compelled to offer to the pride and dignity, and-let me confefs it-to the tenderness of my heart

Sir Harry. And must I believe you? Had my Harriet fuch goodnefs, while I treated her with ingratitude?

Mrs. Courtly. This hour, I hope, will repay me for all the facrifices I have made. From this moment you are mafter of all I poffefs. My fond melting heart throws off all reftraint. It would gladly make fome atonement for the anxiety I have caufed you, by thus pouring forth all its tenderness-by confefling that you are all its treasure, all its joy, all its hope. The reft remains with yourself.-Live happy, live contented, and, if that can add to that happiness and content, live with me.

• Sir Harry. O, thofe transports are too much!-Adorable woman! my angel! my preferver! [falls at her feet] How have I deferved? How can I exprefs?

• Mrs. Courtly, Pray rife!-Thank heaven, I have found the secret to reftore you to yourself.-But fee, my father and your uncle.-They have been acquainted with my designs, and will rejoice at it.

Enter Sir J. Oldgrove and Holdfaft.

• Sir Harry [throwing himself at Holdfaft's feet.] Can you forgive me, Sir?—Never again –

Holdfaf. No proteftations, Harry, no próteftations. I have had too much of them; not to miftroft you, at least for a time. All my hopes must be from this lady's prudence. She has been too good to you.

Sir Jacob. Nay, the reconciliation must be perfect. I'll answer for your nephew.'

From the incidents arifing from this defperate expedient of Mrs. Courtly, and the general tenor of the conduct of Sir Harry Glenville, we fhould rather, with Holdfaft, be inclined to REV. Feb. 1781.

miftruft