No flatery now. By all my hopes hereafter, For the world's empire I'd not lose this death. And has renew'd the terms. Caled is kill'd-Alas! I but keep in my fleeting breath Art. Hold-first thank heaven for that! Eud. Where is Eumenes?

This sudden pause. Weil, be it so; let's know it; O, touch not yet the broken springs of life!

Alas! he hears not now, nor sees my sorrows! A fruitless zeal, yet all I now can show;
Yet will I mourn for thee, thou gallant youth! Tears vainly flow for errors learn'd too late,
As for a son-so let me call thee now. When timely caution should prevent our fate.
Amuch-wrong'd friend, and an unhappy hero!

[Exeunt.

A yana of Ireland, and for some time one of the most successful writers for the stage. He was probably born ab of the year 1755, having been appointed one of the pages of Lord Chesterfield, when he was Lord Lieutenant of 16. He was once an officer of marines, but left the service with circumstances which do not reflect credit mas. These circumstances not attacking the reputation of his writings, our readers will assist us in coverwith the charitable veil of oblivion; and we shall stand excused in the eyes of the feeling world for declinsende his Biography.

THE HYPOCRITE,

TOT by Isaac Bickerstaff. Acted at Drury Lane 1768. The general plot of this comedy is borrowed from Tarte of Molière, and the principal character in it, viz. that of Doctor Cantwell, is a close copy from that great * The conduct of the piece, however, is so greatly altered as to render it perfectly English, and the coquet e: is truly original and most elegantly spirited. The author has strongly pointed out the mischiefs and ruin which teady brought into the most noble and valuable families by the self-interested machinations of those skulking precisas vipers, those wolves in sheep's clothing, who at the troublesome and unsettled period in which this was first writhin, (by Cibber 1718) covering their private views beneath the mask of public zeal and sanctity, the part of the great serpent of old, first tempting to sin, and then betraying to punishment. It is an alteration of Wer's Venjuror. Scarcely any thing more than the character of Mawworm was written by the present author, who ard it for the sake of Weston's comic talents. Few plays have had the advantage of better acting, and, in conce, few had a greater share of success. It is one of the most valuable characteristics of this play, that while it 7 satirizes hypocrisy, fanatism (as in Mawworm), and outrageous pretensions to sanctity, it carefully distinguishes were these and rational piety. The play met with great success in the representation, taking a run of tighteen the subject itself being its protection, and its enemies not daring to show any more at that time than a few **** Mlent contempt. The consequence, however, was what the author foresaw; that is to say, the stirring up a st him, who would scarcely suffer any thing he wrote afterwards to meet with fair play, and making him ast butt of Mist's Journal, and all the Jacobite faction. Nor do we think it by any means an improbable surat the enmity and inveteracy of his antagonist Mr. Pope, and the set of wits who were connected with him, have their original foundation traced from the appearance of this play.

birth and fortune are well known to you; and but since you think it your duty, as a son, to I dare swear, he may defy the world to lay be concerned for my errors, I think it as much a blemish on his character. mine, as a father, to be concerned for yours. If you think fit to amend them, so; if not, take the consequence.

Sir J. Why then, sir, since I am to be catechised, I must tell you I do not like his character; he is a world-server, a libertine, and has no more religion than you have.

Col. L. Well, sir, may I ask you, without offence, if the reasons you have given me are Col. L. Sir, we neither of us think it pro- your only reasons for discountenancing Mr. per to make a boast of our religion; but, if Darnley's addresses to my sister? you please to inquire, you will find that we Sir J. Are they not flagrant? would you go to church as orderly as the rest of our have me marry my daughter to a Pagan?1) neighbours. Col. L. He intends this morning paying his

Sir J. Oh, you go to church! you go to respects to you, in hopes to obtain your final church!-Wonderful! wonderful! to bow, and consent; and desired me to be present as a grin, and cough, and sleep: a fine act of de- mediator of articles between you.

votion indeed.

Col. L. Well but, dear sir

Sir J. Colonel, you are an Atheist. Col. L. Pardon me, sir, I am none : it is a character I abhor; and next to that, I abhor the character of an enthusiast. 1)

Sir J. I am glad to hear it.

Col. L. That's kind indeed, sir.

Sir J. May be not, sir; for I will not be at home when he comes: and because I will not tell a lie for the matter, I'll go out this moment. Col. L. Nay, dear sir

Sir J. Oh, you do so; an enthusiast!-this Sir J. And, do you hear-because I will is the fashionable phrase, the bye-word, the not deceive him either, tell him I would not nick-name, that our pleasure-loving generation have him lose his time in fooling after your give to those few who have a sense of true sister-In short, I have another man in my sanctity. head for her.

[Exit. Col. L. Another man! It would be worth one's while to know him: pray heaven this canting hypocrite has not got some beggarly rascal in his eye for her. I must rid the house Col. L. So says the charitable doctor Cant- of him at any rate, or all the settlement I can well; you have taken him into your house, hope for from my father is a castle in the air. and in return he gives over half your family -My sister may be ruined too-here she comes. to the devil. If there be another man in the case, she, no

Col. L. Say, canting, sir. Sir J. I tell you what, son, as I have told you more than once, you will draw some heavy judgment on your head one day or other.

Enter CHARLotte.

Sir J. Do not abuse the doctor, colonel; it doubt, can let me into the secret. is not the way to my favour. I know you cannot bear him, because he is not one of your mincing preachers. He holds up the glass to your enormities, shows you to yourselves in your genuine colours.

Col. L. I always respect piety and virtue, sir; but there are pretenders to religion, as well as to courage; and as we never find the truly brave to be such as make much noise about their valour; so, I apprehend, the truly good seldom or never deal much in grimace. Sir J. Very well, sir; this is very well. Col. L. Besides, sir, I would be glad to know, by what authority the doctor pretends to exercise the clerical function. 2) It does not appear clearly to me that he ever was in orders. Sir J. That is no business of yours, sir. But, I am better informed.—However, he has the call of zeal.

Col. L. Zeal!

Sister, good morrow; I want to speak with you.

Char. Pr'ythee then, dear brother, don't put on that wise, politic face, as if your regiment was going to be disbanded, or sent to the West Indies, and you obliged to follow it.

Col. L. Come, come, a truce with your raillery: what I have to ask of you is serious, and I beg you would be so in your answer.

Char. Well, then, provided it is not upon the subject of love, I will be so-but make haste too-for I have not had my tea yet. Col. L. Why it is, and it is not, upon that subject. Char. Oh, I love a riddle dearly-Comelet's hear it.

Col. L. Nay,pshaw! if you will be serious, say so. Char. O lard, sir ! I beg your pardon-there Sir J. Why, colonel, you are in a passion.—there's my whole form and features, totally Col. L. I own I cannot see with temper, disengaged and lifeless, at your service; now sir, so many religious mountebanks impose on put them in what posture of attention you the unwary multitude; wretches, who make a think fit. [Leans on him awkwardly trade of religion, and show an uncommon Col. L. Was there ever such a giddy devil concern for the next world, only to raise their -Pr'ythee, stand up. I have been talking wit fortunes with greater security in this. my father, and he declares positively you sha not receive any further addresses from M Darnley.

Sir J. Colonel, let me hear no more; I see you are too hardened to be converted now:

1) A religious sect, possessing much less of the charity

of christians than any other of the numerous list of them with which the world is over-run; their prayers and sermons, contrary to the church of England, are all extempore. Mawworm shows them in their most zealous, Cantwell in their most unfavourable light. 2) The greater part of the preachers as well as auditors of this sect are tailors, cobblers, and others, who have had a call as they call it.

Char. Are you serious?

1) The intoleration of the Methodists, is carried to such degree, that, even in their sermons, they most char tably condemn every person of any other persuasi than theirs, to the most horrible of all the burning fi of Tartarus; and, as they affect a very sanctified w of living themselves, all persons visiting that devi hot-house the theatre, playing at cards, reading now etc., must meet with some still more terrible puni ment, if possible..

Cal. L. He said so this minute, and with Char. O lud!) O lud! pr'ythee, brother, some warmth. don't be so wise; if you had an empty house Char. I am glad on't, with all my heart. to let, would you be displeased to hear there Col. L. How! glad! were two people about it? besides, to be a Char. To a degree. Do you think a man little serious, Darnley has a tincture of jealousy has any more charms for me for my father's in his temper, which nothing but a substantial liking him? no, sir, if Mr. Darnley can make rival can cure.

his way to me now, he is obliged to me, and Col. L. Oh, your servant, madam! now you to me only. Besides, now it may have the talk reason. I am glad you are concerned face of an amour indeed, now one has some-enough for Darnley's faults, to think them worth thing to struggle for; there's difficulty, there's your mending; ha! ha!

danger, there's the dear spirit of contradiction Char. Concerned! why, did I say that?in it too-Oh! I like it mightily. look you, I'll deny it all to him-well, if ever Col. L. I am glad this does not make you I'm serious with him again— think the worse of Darnley-but my father's consent might have clapped a pair of horses more to your coach, perhaps, and the want of it may pinch your fortune.

Char. Burn fortune; am not I a fine woman? and have not I twenty thousand pounds in my own hands?

Col. L. Yes, sister; but with all your charms, you have had them in your hands almost these

four years.

Col. L. Here he comes; be as merry with him as you please.

Enter DARNLEY.

Darn. My dear colonel, your servant. Col. L. I am glad you did not come sooner; for in the humour my father left me, 'twould not have been a proper time for you to have pressed your affair-I touched upon't-butI'll tell you more presently; in the mean time lose no ground with my sister.

Char. Pshaw! and have not I had the full swing of my own airs and humours these four Darn. I shall always think myself obliged years? but if I humour my father, I warrant to your friendship, let my success be what it he'll make it three or four thousand more, will-Madam—your most obedient-what have with some unlicked lout-a comfortable equi-you got there, pray? valent, truly! No, no; let him light his pipe with his consent, if he please. Wilful against wise for a wager.

Col. L. But pray, sister, has my father ever proposed any other man to you?

Char. Another man! let me know why you ask, and I'll tell you.

Col. L. Why, the last words he said to me were, that he had another man in his head for you. Char. And who is it? who is it? tell me, dear brother.

Col. L. Why, you don't so much as seem surprised.

Char. No; but I'm impatient, and that's as well.
Col. L. Why how now, sister?

Char. Why sure, brother, you know very little of female happiness, if you suppose the surprise of a new lover ought to shock a woman my temper- don't you know that I am a coquette?

Col. L. If you are, you are the first that ever was sincere enough to own her being so. Char. To a lover, I grant you; but not to you; I make no more of you than a sister: Can say any thing to you.

if

I

Char. [Reading] 2) "Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose; Quick as her eyes, and as unfix'd as those--" Darn. Pray, madam, what is't?

Char. "Favours to none, to all she smiles extends-"

Darn. Nay, I will see.

Char. "Oft she rejects, but never once offends." Col. L. Have a care: she has dipped into her own character, and she'll never forgive you, if you don't let her go through with it. Darn. I beg your pardon, madam. Char. “Bright as the sun her eyes the gazers strike, [Um-umAnd like the sun they shine on all alike." Darn. That is something like indeed. Col. L. You would say so, if you knew all. Darn. All what? pray what do you mean? Col. L. Have little patience: I'll tell you

immediately.

Darn. For a woman to expect, it is indeed. Char. And can you blame her, when 'tis at the same time a proof of the poor man's pas

Col. L. I should have been better pleased,
had not owned it to me-it's a hateful sion and her power?

100

character.

Darn. So that you think the greatest conChar. Ay, it's no matter for that, it's vio-pliment a lover can make his mistress, is to lently pleasant, and there's no law against it, give up his reason to her. that I know of.

Col. L. Darnley's like to have a hopeful time

you.

with
Char. Well, but don't you really know who
is my father intends me?

Col. L. Not I, really; but I imagined you might, and therefore thought to advise with

you about it.

Char. Nay, he has not opened his lips to me yet-are you sure he is gone out? Col. L. You are very impatient to know, methinks; what have you to do to concern yourself about any man but Darnley?

Char. Certainly; for what have your lordly sex to boast of but your understanding, and till that's entirely surrendered to her discre1) This word lud is a corruption of Lord! we find such in all languages, where people think to cheat the devil by substituting a word something similar to the oath in its original form, and believe, if they do not swear in the exact word, that the sin is entirely atoned for. There are many other examples of this sort in English, where the most abominable oaths are softened down into a pretty little word, which seems to fit many a . pretty little mouth, if we may judge from the frequency of their application by the female sex, though it must be confessed that they are totally ignorant of their meaning. 2) Pope's Rape of the Lock, Canto 11. v. 8.

tion, while the least sentiment holds out against his reproaches have that greatness of soulher, a woman must be downright vain to think the confusion they give is insupportable.her conquest completed!

Darn. There we differ, madam; for, in my opinion, nothing but the most excessive vanity could value or desire such a conquest.

Char. Oh, d'ye hear him, brother? the creature reasons with me; nay, has the effrontery to think me in the wrong too! O lud! he'd make a horrid tyrant-positively I won't have him. Darn. Well, my comfort is, no other man will easily know whether you'll have him or not. Char. Am I not a vain, silly creature, Mr. Darnley?

Darn. A little bordering upon the baby, I

must own.

Darn. Yes, faith, I do; and so shamefully, that I'm in hopes you doubt it.

Enter BETTY.

Betty, is the tea ready?
Bet. Yes, madam.
Char. Mr. Darnley, your servant.
[Exit Charl. and Betty.
Col. L. So; you have made a fine piece of
work on't, indeed!

Darn. Dear Tom, pardon me if I speak a little freely; I own the levity of her behaviour, at this time, gives me harder thoughts than I once believed it possible to have of her. Col. L. Indeed, my friend, you mistake her. Darn. Nay, nay; had she any real concern

Char. Laud!) how can you love a body for me, the apprehensions of a man's addresso then? but I don't think you love me though ses, whom yet she never saw, must have -do you? alarmed her to some degree of seriousness. Col. L. Not at all; for let this man be whom he will, I take her levity as a proof of her Char. Poor man! he'd fain bring me to reason. résolution to have nothing to say to him. Darn. I would indeed.-Nay, were it but Darn. And pray, sir, may I not as well possible to make you serious only when you suspect, that this artful delay of her good nashould be so, I should think you the most ture to me now, is meant as a provisional

amiable

Char. O lud! he's civil

Darn. Come, come, you have good sense; use me but with that, and make me what you please.

Char. Laud! I don't desire to make any thing of you, not I.

Darn. Come then, be generous, and swear at least you'll never marry another.

Char. Ah, laud! now you have spoiled all again:-besides, how can I be sure of that, before I have seen this other man my brother spoke to me of?

Darn. What riddle's this?

Col. L. I told you, you did not know all. To be serious, my father went out but now, on purpose to avoid you. In short, he absolutely retracts his promises; says, he would not have you fool away your time after my sister; and in plain terms told me, he had another man in his head for her.

Darn. Another man! who? what is he? did not be name him?

Col. L. No; nor has he yet spoke of him to my sister.

Darn. This is unaccountable!-what can have given him this sudden turn?

defence against my reproaches, in case, when she has seen this man, she should think it convenient to prefer him.

Col. L. No, no; she's giddy, but not capable of so studied a falsehood.

Darn. But still, what could she mean by going away so abruptly?

Col. L. You grew too grave for her.
Darn. Why, who could bear such trifling?
Col. L. You should have laughed at her.
Darn. I can't love at that easy rate.

Col. L. No-if you could, the uneasiness would lie on her side.

Darn. Do you then really think she has any thing in her heart for me?

Col. L. Ay, marry, 1) sir→ah! if you could but get her to own that seriously now; Lord! how you could love her!

Darn. And so I could, by heaven!

Col. L. Well, well, I'll undertake for her; if my father don't stand in the way, we are well enough.

Darn. What says my lady? you don't think she's against us?

Col. L. I dare say she is not. She's of so soft, so sweet a disposition

Darn. Pr'ythee, how came so fine a woman Col. L. Some whim our conscientious doctor to marry your father, with such a vast inehas put in his head, I'll lay my life.

Darn. He! he can't be such a villain; he professes a friendship for me.

Col. L. So much the worse.

Darn. But on what pretence, what grounds, what reason, what interest, can he have to oppose me?

quality of years?

Col. L. Want of fortune, Frank: she was poor and beautiful-he, rich and amorousshe made him happy, and he herDarn. A lady

Col. L. And a jointure-now she's the only one in the family that has power with ou Col. L. Are you really now as unconcerned precise doctor; and, I dare engage, she'll ust as you seem to be? it with him to persuade my father from any Char. You are a strange dunce, brother-thing that is against your interest. By the you know no more of love than I do of a way, you must know I have some shrew regiment-You shall see now how I'll comfort suspicion that this sanctified rogue is in love him—Poor Darnley, ha, ha, ha! with her.

Darn. I don't wonder at your good humour, madam, when you have so substantial an opportunity to make me uneasy for life. Char. Olud! how sentimentious he is! well,

1) Lord.