HAVING for a long time conceived the highest esteem for the variety of your literary merit, a recommenda­tion from you was almost a sanction to pre-engage my implicit approba­tion. How high were my expectations raised by your dedicatory commendation of the tragedy of Douglas; but, alas! how fallen, from seeing its representation: nor has a perusal since won me over as an admirer of it.

Had the tragedy of Douglas been ushered into the world as the promise of a dramatic genius, as such it ought to have been received with ap­plause; but its having been forced upon us au­thoritatively, in competition with all antiquity and the moderns, two obvious effects were pro­duced in the minds of men; to wit, curiosity was excited in some, jealousy provoked in others. I am sorry to inform you, Sir, that in conse­quence, your national judgment has been great­ly [Page 4]run upon here, and your critical stocks re­duced almost to bankruptcy.

For my part, when I first read your panegy­rical paragraph, I for some time hesitated as to the sincerity of it, and could not help reflect­ing on the passage in The Art of Sinking in Poetry, written by your truly ingenious countryman Dr. Arbuthnot.

But, on a second reading of it, I changed opi­nion, and have moreover been assured, that what is written you meant, to which, in amaze, I used the famous reply of " Est il possible," is it possible?

The four great and revered names, Maffei, Voltaire, Olway, Shakespear, which you have em­ployed as supporters of Douglas, put me in mind of the statue of Lewis XIV. in Paris, where the four nations, Germany, Spain, Holland, and Eng­land, are chained round him as vanquished, and lavishly accompanied with all the tokens of sub­jection. However this may please the national vanity of the French, all foreigners with reason laugh at the folly of the design, and unpardon­able foppery of the execution.

[Page 5]I respect you too much, Sir, to make any unmannered or indelicate application: such as "All fools admire, but men of sense approve;" and shall impeach you by an evidence whom I dare say will not be objected to, yourself—and from the standard of taste.

According to this just and admirable doctrine, what is likely to be the fate of the tragedy of Dou­glas? Neglect and oblivion: however illumined for the present by the flambeau, you (forgive the expression,) too partially, or in the mildest terms, too sanguinely, hold before it.

Not satisfied to have preluded to the assured triumph of this tragedy in your dedication, an un­provoked and congenial enforcer of the extrava­gance of its merit, has been artfully diffused thro' the public under the title of The Tragedy of Dou­glas analysed, a seeming attack, which the disap­pointed reader finds to be the second part of the same tune you had begun in your dedication, and which is there quoted, in order to be illus­trated true in every article; therefore, to join issue the sooner, we shall follow the method there­in observed.

[Page 6]From page seventh to twelfth is a tedious his­torical account of the fable, quite too long for the proposed limits of this letter, to be quoted, and therefore I refer to it.

The next heads proceeded to, are the charac­ters, manners, and diction. Having nothing to object against what the analyser says relative to the two former, the following citations will suf­ficiently shew that our disapprobation arises not from caprice, but very justifiable motives.

Wherefore chiding, groaning, hears, answers? This may be founded on some tradition, or po­pular error of Scotland; but to English under­standings, if not altogether nonsensical, is at least chimerical.

Woeful indeed!

Is a question in the low familiar.

The misplaced and Hors d'Oeuvre compliment to the union—

is tedious and insipid; the line it closes with flat.

Clod and clay are not only mean words, but al­so cacophonous to the ear.

For but a confident, there is a quality-ease in this offer to oblige a friend. But she soon re­lapses into a diction more apposite to her condi­tion;

and presents us at the same time with a nasty image.

Is this strictly correct, ebb and flood being op­posites? Roll is inadequate here.

That tears should have been shed rather to detain her but three weeks married husband Douglas, than an unsubstitutive brother, will be assented to by all young married ladies who are so unfashionable as to love their husbands.

This is a pretty jesuitical device, she having been married to one already.

Nor any body else.

The poet is hard run here, in order to distress his heroine. Why kill the priest in battle? Per­haps this action happened in the days of the Church militant!

This name of a river in Scotland, from its like­ness in sound to our English word carrion, is grating to the ears of a London audience. Why destin'd road?

This may appear a pretty figure to those ac­quainted with the art of spinning, tho' it does not to me. The last line is monosyllabically harsh, a fault our author is often guilty of.— To Anna replies

I should be glad to know in what other.

On the contrary, I think never better, if he played his varied parts with that subtlety and Protean art she ascribes to him.

Is an odd expression from one man to another, and would be better addressed to one of the gentle sex.

This is inelegant, and not suited to the rank of the speaker.

I dislike this picture of Scotch warriours beat­ing the air; the renowned Don Quixote indeed encountered wind-mills.

This would not be improper from a sea-officer.

I do not understand this line; and confess my ignorance of what persistive means.

Glynn is a word used in Scotland and Ireland, but not in the meridional parts of England.

The meaning of red here, and the angry spirit of the water shrieking, are unknown to us South Britons.

Quite the contrary, and all drenched in wa­ter, is most likely, unless the basket had been purposely caulked, from a fore-knowledge of the event.

Our author seems fond of the word flower, to mark male eminence; wherefore, pursuant to the baptismal vows you have made for him as his sponsor, (not at all alluding to the song) let him be called the flower of Edinburgh's tragic writers; for, on this side of the Tweed, nothing more will, or ought to be allowed him.

The panegyrical analyser Note: place="foot" n="*" A pamphlet in favours of this play, entituled, Douglas Analysed, was lately published at London, where a great number of passages are quoted, as the most exalted sentiment, as well as poetical fancy, that has appeared in our day, who has quoted many indifferent, has, in my sense, omitted se­veral [Page 11]of the most beautiful passages, which, as they occur, I shall insert in this letter; for in­stance.

A cord is a visible substance; besides, this is too gross and material an image of the power of in­stinct.

This rather excites an idea of two armies wrestl­ing, than fighting with offensive weapons.

Here follow other unpardonable omissions by the analyser.

Christian cross would sound less harsh to the ear; what follows is a fine picture of decayed beauty, and some judicious sentiments.

The following remark deserves the attention of all men ambitious of the matrimonial state:

This is strained, quaint, and affected; and what follows sheer bombast.

Glenalvon is answered with a sensible, and manly ingenuity by Douglas.

is an unheroic interrogation.

This brutality does not meet with an instan­taneous and proper retort from one of young Douglas's supposed feeling, which, by the fol­lowing sentiments, is farther manifested.

What means stilly here? is it tantamount to stilling? I know the word is in Shakespear, but do not understand it, in the place he uses it.

Ever and anon, are no doubt, supposed defen­sible, because in a shepherd's mouth, and in imi­tation of Homer's practice, are in p. 60, faithful­ly repeated by Douglas to his mother.

How accept it before he speaks it out? Does not this at least border on a blunder?

This, Sir, is an abridgment of your Disserta­tion on the Passions.

Drives would perhaps be more explicit.

[Page 15]The sentiments of dying Douglas are not amiss; nor is the mother's affliction ill drawn; nay, somewhat affecting. But why she should plunge from a precipice head-foremost into the sea, I cannot see any reason, nor for her, or her son's deaths. He might have killed Glenalvon, tho' previously wounded by him in the back, but, not mortally; and lord Randolph, in expiation of his groundless jealousy and rash attempt resign to victorious Douglas his rightful inheritance.

The prologue, a learned allusion to the old song of Chevy-Chase, is of the true poetical profound.

Why not pride instead of trade; but the Scotch have always sneered at the English as a trading nation.

The sense of this line, not intelligible to us, alludes rather to the musical alarms of Highlan [...] bagpipes.

It would be too much to take in the whole prologue here; to read it is enough; where it emerges from confusion and obscurity, it gently subsides in kindred lines to this,

It concludes with an humble petition in be­half of Scotland.

The epilogue is a priggish affectation; and I hope will never be relished by a genuine British audi­ence. [Page 16]The far-fetched comparison of the Nile is stolen. I object to the epithet of celestial join­ed to melancholy in the last line. Heaven, by all information I have ever had of it, is the king­dom of joy, it is therefore a dissenting opinion to make it the abode of melancholy.

Why has the panegyrist taken notice but of three performers, and natives of Ireland? shame­ful partiality! This appears a flagrant combina­tion of the Scotch and Irish against the true sons of old English roast-beef, as if, forsooth, the for­mer are only qualified to write tragedy, and the latter to perform. But, to thy teeth, partial Analyst, I will do my country-folks the justice they deserve.

He who figured in the character of Glenalvon manifested a projectile spiritedness of person, and strictly adherent to Horace's rule, Semper sibi con­stans, without any variation throughout: now, this is what may be called, supporting a charac­ter.

The actor of lord Randolph was self-collected, having the curb of his passions in hand. He ex­hibited a commanding calmness of deportment, and a level, stomach-fetched, dignity of voice.

The liquid toned actress of Anna irradiated sorrow with her smiles; how sweetly did she speak?

[Page 17]I should not have been surprised if the supe­rior beings descended from heaven to her pretty manner of uttering this invitation.

I owed this to my country; so now my mind is at ease. Golden beds savours of Epicurism.

The ground-work of the play is an absolute absurdity, for either the lady Randolph must have been very artful, who had a chopping boy 18 years before, to pass on her husband for a maid; or he, lord Randolph, must have been very unac­quainted with the affairs of women. I fear the latter case; and from ineffectual nights sprung the daily cause of her tears; and certainly a very material one. Penelope, it is true, mourned twenty years for Ulysses; but then she did not admit an apathic lover to tantalize her in bed.

The shepherd, the jewels, and recognition of this doleful piece, are worn-out devices of the stage, and expletive pegs of the human in­vention.

The protracted monotony of lady Randolph's grief is irksome. One character often exhibit­ed in the same piece, must be agitated by va­riety [Page 18]of passions, otherwise we grow tired of the sameness.

After the discovery of Douglas, he is not thrown into any interesting situation, nor is there any dramatic anxiety throughout, arising from the intricacy of the plot; for from the beginning to the end, it is an uninterrupted downhill green­sword course, entirely against the revolutionary spirit of the scenic laws, which perhaps, (nay by your miscalled dissertation, or rather dissertatiuncle on tragedy, it appears) you are no [...] acquainted with. We had, however, a righ [...] to expect at least, unexceptionable correctness of stile, in a work by you so immoderately praised, not to say, profanely.

I now take leave of Douglas, this aurora borealis of tragedy, that had so long corruscated ove [...] us from the North, to execute the last part o [...] my task, to wit, to defend Mr. Garrick, by disculpating him from a heavy charge, disseminated every where from the drawing-room in St. James! to the night-cellars; which is, that he had th [...] impudence to refuse The Tragedy of Douglas, th [...] best play ever acted, not only on the English stage, but on any other, ancient or modern.

The author not only absolves, but apologis [...] for Mr. Garrick by his motto.

Mr. Garrick acquiesced to the former part o [...] his confession; and told him that but poor mat [...] rials for the stage could be derived from the la [...] ter. This is the upshot of his crime. Has h [...] [Page 19]then deserved all the foul-mouthed abuse that has been lavished on him? I think not, who am not partial to him.

The pulpit and clergy of Scotland are irreve­rently treated in the analysis, which ends with a bullying line, that might waggishly be retorted, to wit,

That is, people will keep aloof from it; because, ‘ Nemo impune lacessit.’ ‘No body rubs to it with impunity.’

The drift of the whole being now seen thro'; with a dislike to your partiality, but esteem and veneration for your genius and erudition.