by Newton, and Hook, and even by Gilbert, who was VeruJam's contemporary; not to mention Galileo, and other eminent philofophers on the continent of Europe. This hafty compliment to a man, whofe general character he undoubtedly dislikes, is a ftriking inftance of Mr. Boucher's defire to be impartial, which thines indeed confpicuously through the whole volume. While he contends with earneftnefs for the apoftolical conftitution of the church of England, and strenuously vindicates the rights of the clergy in those provinces of America, where, before the revolution, the was. eftablished, he pleads with equal earneftnefs for the toleration of Papifts, and of other peaceable diffenters from the established faith; and in the very fermon in which he seems defirous to establish the duty of paffive obedience and non-resistance, he argues that his doctrine, when rightly understood, is the only doctrine compatible with civil liberty.

In behalf of religious toleration, he thus ably reafons:

"When we are perfuaded in our own minds of the rectitude of our own opinions, it is not unnatural for us to conclude, that all who do not entertain the fame are under a delufion and in an error: and though, of all human infirmities, there is none which, in the eye of 'reafon, is more eminently entitled to be regarded with candour than errors in judgment, it is not to be denied that there is none which ufually meets with lefs indulgence. But, religious delufions and errors, which should be the molt readily pardoned, are, in general, the leaft fo thoroughly convinced that our own opinions are well founded, we can hardly avoid thinking unfavourably of those who in thofe points differ from us, and concluding that in differing from us they also deviate from truth. Hence our impatience on fuch occafions may seem to be founded in a love of God, and a zeal for truth; an anxiety for the public good, and a just concern for the promotion of religion.

But we should confider that neither our own opinions, nor those of other men, are wholly either in our power or theirs. It is every man's duty carefully to examine his opinions, and even his prejudices; to find out, if he can, which of them are well, and which of them illfounded; that he may retain the former, and reject the latter. Under this bias, and this obligation to think and judge for ourselves, our judgments can be determined only by our own convictions.

That we

hall often judge and determine wrong, is but too probable: but, as we humbly truft that God will forgive fuch our involuntary errors, it is prefumptuous to doubt his being equally ready to forgive others who are equally liable to err. When men have anxioufly fought the truth, and fincerely embraced that which after fuch examination has appeared to them to be true, it would be little lefs than impious to fuppofe that they are not innocent in the fight of God, even though they should Aill be in error,

"Bute

"But, alas! it is not thus that man, fallible and frail as we are, will condefcend to think and judge of man. Every man, whofe thoughts are not as our thoughts, is to us a Samaritan, with whom we refolve to have no dealings. We forget that others have just as much right to quarrel with us on the fcore of our opinions, as we have to quarrel with them for theirs; that no perfons differ more from us than we differ from them; and that therefore, if there be any fault or of fence in a difference of opinion, it is as poffible that it may lie on the one fide as on the other." P. 247

The general force of this reafoning will be admitted by every man who has been accustomed to look into his own mind, and to watch the progrefs of his own opinions; nor will the follow. ing arguments for the expediency and the duty of quiet fubmiffion to civil government, be deemed lefs conclufive by any one whofe vanity does not prompt him to oppose his own theories to the experience of ages.

"Let not this (the doctrine of non-refiftance) be deemed a degrading and fervile principle: it is the very reverse; and it is this its fuperior dignity which proves its celeftial origin. For, whilft other doctrines and other fyftems diftract the world with difputes and debates which admit of no decifion, and of wars and fightings which are almoft as endless as they are ufelefs, it is the glory of Christianity to teach her votaries patiently to bear imperfections, inconveniences and evils in government, as in every thing elfe that is human. This patient acquiefcence under fome remedilefs evils, is not more our duty than it is our intereft: for, the only very intolerable grievance in government is, when men allow themselves to disturb and deftroy the peace of the world, by vain attempts to render that perfect, which the laws of our nature have ordained to be imperfect. And there is more magnanimity, as well as more wifdom, in enduring fome prefent and certain evils, than can be manifefted by any projects of redress that are uncertain; but which, if they fail, may bring down irretrievable ruin on thousands of others, as well as on ourselves: fince to suffer nobly indicates more greatnefs of mind than can be shewn even by acting valiantly. Wife men, therefore, in the words of a noted phílofopher, will" rather choose to brook with patience fome inconveniences under government (because human affairs cannot poffibly be without fome) than felf-opiniatedly disturb the quiet of the public. And, weighing the juftice of those things you are about, not by the perfuafion and advice of private men, but by the laws of the realm, you will no longer fuffer ambitious men, through the ftreams of your blood, to wade to their own power; but efteem it better to enjoy yourselves in the prefent ftate, though perhaps not the best, than, by waging war, endeavour to procure a reformation in another age, yourselves in the meanwhile either killed, or confumed with age.

P. 543.

Few real Chriftians will deny the general fentiments here laid down to be just; though many will think, with us, that

exceptions

exceptions ought to be made, which the course of Mr. B.'s reafoning does not feem to admit.

We cannot take our leave of this volume without expreffing our regret, that a man of real learning, as the author undoubtedly is, fhould have loaded his pages with fo many ufelefs quo-tations from the claffics, which add nothing to the force of his own reasonings. In fupport of his opinions respecting the origin of government, it was judicious to refer to Plato and Ariftotle, and other writers famed for political wisdom; but we were not pleased when our attention was called off from fubjects which deeply interested us, to fcraps from Cicero, in confirmation of moral maxims, which are better understood, and more fully admitted, by the meaneft Chriftian who reads his Bible, than by the most enlightened pupil of the porch or the academy. This defect, however, detracts very little from the merit of the work: which deferves an honourable place on the thelf of the ftudent, and among the materials of the hiftorian.

ART. IX. Plays and Poems. By Mifs Hannah Brand 8vo. 424 PP. 75. Norwich printed. Sold by Rivingtons, Elmily, &c. London. 1798.

THE

HE name of Mifs H. Brand is not altogether new to the public. When her tragedy of Huniades appeared at the Opera Houfe (then used for Drury-Lane theatre) on Jan. 18, 1792, the undertook the arduous tafk of performing the heroine Agmunda. We were not fpectators of that reprefentation, but the play is recorded in the Hiftory of the Theatre to have "received much applause during its progrefs," and to have difpleafed rather by its extreme length than by any defect. The part of Agmunda is very interefting, the fituations in which fhe is placed of the most trying nature, and the lady, certainly, in point of figure, well calculated to give it due effect. It was afterwards repeated under the title of Agmunda; but ftill did not fufficiently attract the public favour to be continued on the stage. To fail in the attempt of producing fuch a tragedy as the public will admire, fince Dr. Johnfon could not atchieve that object, is no longer a difgrace; and Agmunda cannot complain that the fpectators would not protect the un-. willing Sultana of Mahomet II, after they had rejected his beautiful and beloved wife Irene. We have examined the play, and think that, with a few corrections and alterations,

which might easily be made, as well as fuggested, it would deferve a very different fate. To incline our readers to think with us, perhaps it will be fufficient to produce the following fpeeches. A further examination would probably complete their determination. Agmunda, we fhould premife, is urged by the principal Lords of Belgrade, to confent that they should give her up for a wife to Mahomet, as the price of peace.

"ACT THIRD. SCENE THIRD.

THE PRINCESS, MICHAEL ZILUGO, LORDS OF THE COUNCIL: PRINCESS (with her right hand upon the altar).

6

I folemnly declare I will not wed

(Rifing and coming forward.}

The Turkish Sultan.-I difdain alliance

With a vile Infidel, a dark afsaffin

Practis'd in death;-with one whofe hands are ftain'd
With kindred blood ;—by whom four brothers fell.
A wretch who knows no touch of nature's kindness;
No tie of justice that binds man to man;
Who e'en the facred laws of Heaven defies,
Scoffs at Religion, and disowns all Faiths.
Well is his want of truth and honour known;
Yet, to the power of this inhuman Turk,
The Chriftian Lords, and people of this realm,
Betray their Princefs, and refign themselves.

FIRST LORD.

To fave our wives and children we implore her→

PRINCESS.

By you they fhould be fav'd, and I protected.

The man who will not risk his life to fave

His wife, his children, and his native land,
Has loft great Nature's firft, beft energies;
A patriot's valour, and a parent's love.

And have ye loft them then, beyond redemption?
O, dead to fhame! who thus unblushing force
Imperial Albert's daughter to an altar,

(She retreats back a step, and kneels at the altar as before.}

As her laft refuge; force her to oppofe

Subjects, disloyal, recreant, and unmanly,
In their bafe tameness to defert her cause.

FIRST LORD.

Princefs! we grieve to meet this ftern rebuke:
We have not merited in aught thy anger.
Complete are all the Sultan's preparations
To form Belgrade. His batteries are rais'd,
And ordnance, of enormous fize, are mounted
Against our walls; of fuch tremendous force,
As, to their deep foundations, will deftroy them.
The people wild, tumultuous, fierce, from terrour,
The facking of the city dread to madness,

You

You are their hope; for you alone can save them.
This night, unlefs with their Ambaffadors
You will return, the Turks will form our works;
And, if you should refufe, I fear the citizens,
By force, will yield you up, to fave themselves
PRINCESS (ring, very inaignantly).
Am I your flave by charter, that ye threat me?
Are ye fo much difmay'd, that ye forget,
How from before Belgrade, Huniades

Drove haughty Amurath? Is this young Sultan,
Lefs vincible than was his veteran fire?
His father's conqueror comes to vanquish him;
Huniades is come. Peers! will ye fell

Your Princess in his fight? He now destroys
This Mahomet's fleet; its close blockade he raises;
And comes triumphant, to our gates to fave us.
I truft in Heaven ye foon fhall fee these Infidels
Flying before him, as the heartless wren
Before the towering eagle. Let them but hear
His Name :-from rank to rank, wild rout, and fight,
And terrour, fpoil the harveft of his fword.
Countless the times the Turks have fled before him.
Trust to his feats in arms, fo great, so swift,
That ere the echo of one victory ceases,

Fame's oft-fwell'd trump proclaims another conqueft.

FIRST LORD.

No longer have we hope in great Huniades.
His fleet is now in flames, and all is loft." P. 57.

There is, in many parts of the drama, a fimilar merit in the fentiments and expreffions. The volume contains two other plays, which, we believe, have not been acted. The one is entitled, the Conflict; or, Love, Honour, and Pride, and is an Heroic Comedy, altered from the Don Sanchez d'Arragon of P. Corneille. The other is Adelinda, a Comedy, in profe, altered from La Force du Naturel, by Deftouches. The former appears, on comparison, not to be in any part exactly translated from Corneille, but imitated with that degree of freedom, which becomes a writer capable of forming an original drama. The latter we have not been able to compare, not having the Comedy of Deftouches.

The Poems form only a small part of the volume, but they by no means difgrace it. Some affectionate verfes to a Sifter, a pathetic tale, entitled the Monk of La Trappe, told in alternate verfe, two odes, and a prayer to the Fates, compofe the whole collection. Of thefe, we fhall lay before our readers the Ode to Youth, leaving its merits to speak for themfeives.