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to be compatible with innocence. H. More, were Lady Mac Sarcasm dead and gone, I declare I will not have you as my wife, my companion, or my friend. I hate duplicity.

The inconsistent lady concludes her preface with saying,

"The stage is by universal consent allowed to be no in"different thing. The impressions it makes on the mind, "are deep and strong; deeper and stronger perhaps than are "made by any other amusement. If then such impres"sions be in the general hostile to christianity, the whole "resolves itself into this short question-Should a christian. frequent it?"

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I ask her, should a christian, an "evangelical christian," write and publish plays and tragedies? Alas! I fear she brought forth this work at least, without conception.

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That her PERCY contains a few, and but a few, good sentiments, the just critic will not deny. The language is bold and strong, but not always chaste. There is no plot, and she labours going about to introduce a sentiment. Horror is sometimes excited, fear never, it is" without hope," and no sympathy is felt. There is a preparation for the catastrophe, but it clears off like an approaching fit of sneezing, which tantalizeth and never exonerates the brain, but dies away; at last it comes so feebly that we come away disgusted. What virtue was intended to be commended by this piece, the reader must use good glasses to discover.

Let the reader take the following specimens of our lady in tragedy; they are the best I could find.

ELWINA,

"When policy assumes religion's name, "And wears the sanctimonious garb of faith, "Only to colour fraud and license murder, "War then is tenfold guilt."

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""Tis not the crosier, nor the pontiff's robe, "Nor outward show, nor form of sanctity, "Nor Palestine destroy'd, nor Jordan's banks Delug'd with blood of slaughter'd infidels, "No, nor th' extinction of the Eastern world, " Nor all the wild, pernicious, bigot rage "Of mad crusades, can bribe that Pow'r, who sees "The motive with the act. O blind to think "Fanatic wars can please the Prince of Peace! "He who erects his altar in the heart, "Abhors the sacrifice of human blood, "And hates the false devotion of that zeal "Which massacres the world he died to save."

The reader will, no doubt, remember her "im"pious rage" to promote the present war in Village Politics, and every where. "No pull me down "works," she says in Village Politics; but she moves heaven and earth, and privately accuses Mr. Bere, to turn him out, and bring her own disciple in"to get a new constitution!" " Pretend liberty of "conscience, and then shoot at and hang the parsons, for being conscientious." Ibid.

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SIR HUBERT,

"Percy, thou hast seen the musk-rose newly blown “Disclose its bashful beauties to the sun;

“When lo! a chilling storm at once descends,
"Sweeps all its blushing glories to the dust,
"Bows its fair head, and blasts its op'ning charms.
"So droop'd the maid, beneath the cruel weight
Of my sad tale."

"She may be chang'd,

"Spite of her tears, her fainting, and alarms.
"I know the sex, know them as nature made 'em,
"Not such as lovers wish, and poets feign."

DOUGLAS.

"Yes! here I do devote the forfeit blood

"Of him my soul abhors, a rich libation "On thy infernal altar, black revenge."

Let me present you, reader, with a parallel out of the lady's real life.

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“I knew at this time, what lengths you were capable of going in the GRAND-SCHEME. racy, living, and degrade me."

Deprive me of my cu-
Bere's Address.

"Yes, I will feast my hatred with your pangs; "And make his dying groans and thy fond tears "A banquet for my vengeance."

Another parallel from Mrs. More's real life. "A more deadly stroke than this, the hand of power "could not give ; it disgraced my name, detached my friend, "invaded my property, and as far as the influence extended, "was meant to preclude me the functions of my profession, " in which I had borne an unsullied reputation near thirty years; and all this was to be heaped on an innocent per"son unheard, on the scandalous representations of those "who have since been ashamed to shew their faces." Bere's Address.

Another extract and parallel from H. More's Percy, and Bere's Address.

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"Agonizing state,

"When I can neither hope, nor think, nor pray,

"But guilt involves me !"

"But No. 3, you suppressed. Was this, in your con

science, acting as a christian? What to attempt secretly "to destroy by sap, the character of a clergyman in the opi"nion of his bishop! Was there no compunction, no re

"morse? Had you altogether forgotten what it was to "suffer in reputation?"

One more parallel.

"The sorrow's weak that wastes itself in words. "Mine is substantial anguish-deep, not loud.

"I do not rave.-Resentment's the return

"Of common souls for common injuries.

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Light grief is proud of state, and courts compassion; "But there's a dignity in cureless sorrow,

"A sullen grandeur which disdains complaint.

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Rage is for little wrongs-Despair is dumb."

"Your silence will be deemed the conviction of guilt." Bere's Address.

When FATAL FALSEHOOD was represented at Covent-Garden, a remarkable circumstance took place, which tends greatly to corroborate an observation already made, "that H. More's merit "consists in casting readily the sentiments of other "writers into verse." Mrs. Cowley, who was in the side-box, exclaimed at a certain scene, so loud as to alarm the whole house, " That is mine, "that is mine," several times, and fainted away, and was at last carried out. After some interruption and confusion, the words "it is Mrs. Cowley," being several times repeated in different parts of the house, the play was permitted to go on.

While I am writing these remarks, a pamphlet is published, entitled, " ANIMADVERSIONS On the CURATE OF BLAGDON's three publications." The authors and contributors are numerous, H. More and Co. and they make a vain attempt to vindicate her conduct to Mrs. Cowley, and Mrs. Yearsley, But they durst not put a name to it. Contemp

tible as they consider themselves, and as they really are, they were ashamed to own this Ethiopian. They descend to a scurrility, disgraceful even to their party; and with discerning men they could not better plead Mr. Bere's cause. The author of a "damned play," who could not climb up so high on Parnassus as to rank even with the minor poets, was the chief contributor; and through an apprehension of being " damned" in prose, he fights in a mask.* This, Hannah, who delights in "secret deeds," judged the best method of defending " private accusations." In no other way durst she ever venture to calumniate or defend calumny. Stage whispers were not loud enough; but, unfortunately for her, the more is published on her side, the more, if it be possible, she is disgraced. She does not make the least attempt, nor her creatures for her, to palliate or extenuate the guilt of" secret accusations." The woman, who confines herself, pretending illness; and to be dying, and writes and superintends the scurrilous and lying publications of her anonymous disciples, is not deplorably, but incurably depraved. And that this is now, and has been long the case, as is her practice when she has a quarrel, is sufficiently known. H. More, with her "damned poet," who is so prominent in this work,

*No flimsey, linsey-woolsey scenes I wrote,
With patches here and there like Joseph's coat.
Who to patch up her fame-or fill her purse,
Still pilfers wretched plans, and makes them worse,

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