tues we have anything to do with. It is only in relation to their public characters-one as the champion of liberty, the other as its subverter-that we are called upon to judge them. Cato is pictured as the last defender of the liberties of his country, and who, when he finds his cause hopeless, like a noble Roman, dies what a Roman would call a glorious death. Is vice rewarded here? How? Whoever read the play and wished to be Cæsar? or without admiring, almost envying, Cato? It is, in fact, he alone who triumphs; and we might as well talk of the triumph of the executioner who fired the pile of our martyr Cranmer, as of the triumph of Cæsar. How the treachery and perfidiousness of Syphax can be said to prevail over the honest simplicity of Juba, I cannot imagine, since the sword of Marcus pierces through the heart of the hoary traitor, whom Portius sees "Grin in the pangs of death and bite the ground;" while Juba lives, and receives from the dying Cato his beloved Marcia. The nobleness and tenderness of Portius render it unnecessary to vindicate him from the charge of this critic. His objections to the characters as being unnatural, are equally groundless. The strongest part of his case is the manner in which Cato receives the intelligence of the death of his son. He argues, "that for a man to receive the news of his son's death with dry eyes, and to weep at the same time for the calamities of his country, is a wretched affectation, and a miserable inconsistency." In reply, we may not only recall to our remembrance the great examples afforded us by history, and especially by the Roman, of men who have sacrificed the dearest ties of nature from motives of patriotism; but also consider again the character which the author wished to place before his audience. A severe Roman moralist, whose soul is wrapt up in the good of his country, and whose affections are all absorbed in her welfare; who regards life without liberty as unbearable, and who therefore grieves not for a son just released from a world he himself is about to quit, but weeps for his country doomed to slavery. Besides this, we may add, that the moral character of the Romans at this period had so much of the gigantic nature of their empire, that neither their vices nor their virtues can be measured by the common standard of human nature; and surely if any man may be represented on the stage as godlike, it is Cato. The critic is more successful in his attempt to show the absurdities into which the author has fallen by confining the action of the piece to a single place: this he has done at considerable length, and it cannot be denied but that some of his instances are very glaring. It may, however, be said in mitigation, that most of them are common to all theatrical representations. No one can read over many of our tragedies without finding inconsistencies without number of the same kind, or attend a theatre without being shocked with faults equally gross. This censure of Dennis was amply counterbalanced at the time by the great success of the piece, both on the stage and in the closet. It has been followed by the praises of the learned and the good. It received the encomiums of Tickell and Pope, which have been succeeded by those of Voltaire, Johnson, bishop Hurd, and innumerable others. The witty Frenchman, with the taste of his nation, prefers it to Shakspeare, and expresses his wonder that we can bear the extravagances of the latter after having seen it. We cannot, however, go so far: but both Johnson and Hurd consider it the noblest production of our author; nor does it lose in our estimation by the comparison which the great moralist has made between it and Shakspeare. Without the wild luxuriance of that immortal bard, it has beauties peculiarly its own; and its just and noble sentiments, and its graceful and splendid diction, will cause it to be admired as a work of art and taste till the English language shall be no longer understood. TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS OF WALES, WITH THE TRAGEDY OF CATO, Nov. 1714. THE muse that oft, with sacred raptures fir'd, 1 Engaged great Cato in her country's cause.] Some little disingenuity has been charged on the author from this line (see Pope's Works, Ep. to Aug. v. 215, Mr. Warburton's edition), nor can I wholly acquit him of it. The truth, however, seems to be this: Mr. A. had no party-views in composing this tragedy; and he was only solicitous (whatever his friends might be) to secure the suffrage of both parties, when it was brought on the stage. But the public would only see it in a political light and was it to be wondered at, that a poet, in a dedication too, should take advantage of the general voice, to make a merit of his imputed patriotism, with the new family? How spotless must that muse be, that, in passing through a court, had only contracted this slight stain, even in the opinion of so severe a censor and casuist as Mr. Pope! BP. HURD. VOL. II. F No longer shall the widow'd land bemoan A broken lineage, and a doubtful throne; But boast her royal progeny's increase, And count the pledges of her future peace. O born to strengthen and to grace our isle! While you, fair princess, in your offspring smile, Supplying charms to the succeeding age, Each heavenly daughter's triumphs we presage; Already see th' illustrious youths complain, And pity monarchs doom'd to sigh in vain. Thou too, the darling of our fond desires, Whom Albion, opening wide her arms, requires, With manly valour and attractive air Shalt quell the fierce and captivate the fair. Pleas'd with the prospect of successive reigns, And teach the nation their new monarch's praise, Describe his awful look, and godlike mind, Meanwhile, bright princess, who, with graceful ease Nor you the kind indulgence will refuse, |