but of our language. He is never more agreeable than in his serious productions. His Counter Address to the Public, in defence of his friend General Conway, now first acknowleged, is composed on a subject that has been long since superseded by more novel and consequently more interesting events. Such zeal and warmth of affection, as plainly appear in this tract, never fail to do honour to the author's heart, though they may not succeed in convincing the public. General Conway, an able, an amiable, and honourable man, though constantly in the service of government, was seldom a cordial friend to administration. It would be of no use now to revive old complaints, and party animosities: but how seldom is it that the blame attaches only to one side in politics! In all discussions of this kind, the public has its prejudices as well as the antagonists; the servants of the crown are as sure of being defended by one party, as those who have offended administration are of being defended by opposition. There is no character, however heroic, able, and seraphic, that can please the whole nation: nor any so defective, blameable, and politically atrocious, that they will not find advocates to defend their cause. The times were turbulent and factious:the expediency of general warrants was the question; and ministry were too unwilling to part with them, not to treat as an enemy to government every servant of the crown who joined Wilkes's friends in wresting these instruments from their hands: yet the gratitude of the country is due to those, by whose exertions this despotic power was abolished. [To be continued.] ART. VII. A Series of Plays: in which it is attempted to delineate the stronger Passions of the Mind. Each Passion being the Subject of a Tragedy and a Comedy. 8vo. pp. 41. 6s. Boards. Cadell jun. and Davies. 1798. ] N the present fallen state of the drama, when rant is pathos, and a pun is wit, and when pasteboard pageantries and German spectres have almost driven Shakspeare and Congreve from the stage, we cannot but applaud any attempt to "hold the mirror up to Nature," and to exhibit a faithful picture of manners and life. The author of this volume has more than the merit of good intention. Though his versification is sometimes rugged and inharmonious, and his style has an antientry of phrase which often savours of affectation, yet his characters are in general strongly discriminated, and his scenes abound in beautiful In the first play, where love is the passion under review, he has thus described it in its birth: passages. Basil. O! it is admirable! Rosinberg. How runs thy fancy? what is admirable? • She came again upon my wond'ring sight- Like something wak'd from sleep.' The first tumults soon subside into tenderness and melancholy: • Oft in the watchful post, or weary march, Oft in the nightly silence of my tent, My fixed mind shall gaze upon it still; But it will pass before my fancy's eye, Like some delightful vision of the soul, To soothe, not trouble it.' His hero has all the extravagancies of the passion; and all its gloomy imaginations: • For ever lost! what art thou now to me? Shall the departed gaze on thee again? Shall I glide past thee in the midnight hour, 'Tis but the mournful breeze that passes by? (Pauses again, and gazes at the window, till the light disappears.) 'Tis gone, 'tis gone! these eyes have seen their last! The last impression of her heavenly form! The last sight of those walls wherein she lives, The last blest ray of light from human dwelling! I am no more a being of this world, Farewell! farewell! all now is dark for me!' In the fourth act, the dazzling brightness of a summer-cloud is strikingly illustrated: • As tho' an angel, in his upward flight, Had left his mantle floating in mid-air.' The following brief description of a beautiful boy, in the arms of his nurse, deserves notice: • How steadfastly he fix'd his looks upon me, His dark eyes shining through forgotten tears!" Every reader will on this occasion remember that line of Gray, The tear forgot as soon as shed but the sentiment is here wrought into a picture, The playfulness of childhood is not less happily pourtrayed: Basil. Thou art her fav'rite then? Mirando. They say I am; The subject of the last play is hatred, though hatred cannot surely be classed among the passions. It is forcibly written; and the following scene, in which a reconciliation is attempted, may serve as a fair specimen of the whole. Enter REZENVELT. (De Monfort goes up to receive Rezenvelt, who meets him with a cheerful countenance.) De Mon. to Rez. I am, my lord, beholden to you greatly. This ready visit makes me much your debtor. Rez. Then may such debts between us, noble marquis, Be oft incurr'd, and often paid again. To Jane. Madam, I am devoted to your service, And ev'ry wish of yours commands my will. To Countess. Lady, good morning. Well, my gentle friend, You see I have not linger'd long behind. Freb. No, thou art sooner than I look'd for thee. Rez. A willing heart adds feather to the heel, And makes the clown a winged mercury. (To Freberg.) De Mon. Then let me say, that with a grateful mind I do receive these tokens of good will; And must regret that, in my wayward moods, I have too oft forgot the due regard Your rank and talents claim. Rez. No, no, De Monfort, You have but rightly curb'd a wanton spirit, Freb. Ay, let it rest with the departed shades By thee conjoin'd, to great and glorious deeds As As two dark clouds, when mix'd in middle air, The vivid lightning's flash, and roar sublime. Talk not of what is past, but future love. De Mon. (With dignity.) No, Freberg, no, it must not. (To Rezenvelt.) No, my lord. I will not offer you an hand of concord And poorly hide the motives which constrain me. I would that, not alone these present friends, But every soul in Amberg were assembled, That I, before them all, might here declare I owe my spared life to your forbearance. (Holding out his hand.) Take this from one who boasts no feeling warmth, But never will deceive. (Jane smiles upon De Monfort with great approbation, and Rezenvelt runs up to him with open arms.) Rez. Away with hands! I'll have thee to my breast. Thou art, upon my faith, a noble spirit! De Mon. (Shrinking back from him.) Nay, if you please, I am not so prepar'd My nature is of temp'rature too cold I pray you pardon me. (Jane's countenance changes.) But take this hand, the token of respect; To do you any harm. Rez. Well, be it so, De Monfort, I'm contented; Or the civility of placid looks; And, if e'en these are too great favours deem'd, (De Monfort aside, starting away from him some paces.) By the good light, he makes a jest of it!" The volume is prefaced with some very sensible observations on the several provinces of the drama, which we have perused with attention and pleasure: but we have not room to make extracts from them, and can only recommend them to the notice of the reader. (70) ART. VIII. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society of London, Part I. for 1798. [Article concluded from Rev. for August, p. 422.] MATHEMATICAL and PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS continued. Account of some Endeavours to ascertain a Standard of Weight and Measure. By Sir George Shuckburgh Evelyn, Bart. F.R.S. IN this elaborate paper, consisting of 50 quarto pages, we have a minute account of the speculations and experiments of the ingenious author, on the subject of an universal and perpetual standard of weight and measure. A pendulum has been proposed as a very convenient instrument for this purpose: but many difficulties occurred in determining the actual centre of motion and of oscillation. In order to avoid these, Sir George, so long ago as the year 1780, conceived the idea of a pendulum with a moveable centre of suspension, capable of such adjustments as to be made to vibrate any number of times in a given interval; and, by comparison of the difference of the vibrations with the difference of the lengths of the pendulum, (which difference alone might be the standard measure,) to determine its positive length, if that should be thought preferable, under any given circumstances. While he was deliberating how such a pendulum might be connected with a piece of mechanism, so as to number the vibrations without affecting them, he learnt that Mr. WHITEHURST had accomplished the object. He therefore directed his subsequent attention towards verifying and completing the experiments of that ingenious philosopher; and with this view, he procured an excellent apparatus adopted to his purpose. Besides the machine with which Mr. Whitehurst had made his observations, (of which he obtained a temporary use,) his other instruments were a beam-compass, or divided scale, made by Mr, Troughton, and furnished with microscopes and micrometer, for the most exact observations of longitudinal measure, and also a very nice beam or hydrostatic balance, sensible with the To of a grain, when loaded with 6 lb. Troy at each end; an admirable time-keeper constructed by Mr. Arnold; a solid cube of brass, whose sides were 5 inches, a cylinder of the same metal, 4 inches in diameter and 6 inches high, and a sphere of brass, 6 inches in diameter. TO After having described, with the assistance of figures, the several parts of his apparatus, Sir George proceeds to give a particular account of the experiments which he made with them, and of the various circumstances to which his attention was directed, that he might avoid the minutest error in his conclu 1 |