in our language which more forcibly charm by all the enchantments of taste, expression, and sentiment. Some observations on this ode, and usually printed with it, are the production of professor Richardson. It may be necessary to add that this ode was left in manuscript by Smollett, and published at Glasgow and London in 1773. Advice and Reproof have already been noticed, and are more remarkable for their satirical aim, than for poetical beauties. His songs and other small pieces were introduced principally in his novels and in the Reprisal. To our regret we may add some degree of surprise, that one who could write so well should write so little in a department which generally confers a much higher degree of fame than he could expect from most of his other productions. The original works of Smollett were published by the London proprietors in 1797, in eight volumes, 8vo. To this edition Dr. Moore was engaged to furnish a life. Another life about the same time was published at Edinburgh by Dr. Anderson. I have availed myself of both, as far as regards matters of fact. If I have not been able to join in their opinion of Dr. Smollett, it is some excuse that I have been indebted to them for the principal reasons which have induced me to differ. POEMS DR. SMOLLETT, THE REGICIDE; OR, JAMES THE FIRST | what I had to expect in the capacity of an author, W OF SCOTLAND. A TRAGEDY. PREFACE. when I first professed myself of that venerable fraternity, I should, in all probability, have spared myself the incredible labour and chagrin I have since undergone: but, as early as the year 1739, my play was taken into the protection of one of those little fellows who are sometimes called great men; and, like other orphans, neglected accordingly. HATEVER reluctance I have to trouble the public with a detail of the mortifications I have suffered, in my attempts to bring the ensuing performance on the stage, I think it a duty Stung with resentment, which I mistook for incumbent upon me, to declare my reasons for pre- contempt, I resolved to punish this barbarous insenting it in this extraordinary manner; and, if the difference, and actually discarded my patron; explanation shall be found either tedious or trifling, consoling myself with the barren praise of a few I hope the candid reader will charge my imperti-associates, who, in the most indefatigable manner, nence upon those who drove me to the necessity of making such an ineffectual appeal. employed their time and influence in collecting from all quarters observations on my piece, which, Besides, I flatter myself, that a fair representa-in consequence of those suggestions, put on a new tion of the usage I have met with will be as a appearance almost every day, until my occasions beacon, to caution other inexperienced authors called me out of the kingdom. against the insincerity of managers, to which they might otherwise become egregious dupes; aud, after a cajoling dream of good fortune, wake in all the aggravation of disappointment. Soon after my return, I and my production were introduced to a late patentee, of courteous memory, who (rest his soul!) found means to amuse me a whole season, and then declared it Although I claim no merit from having finished impracticable to bring it on till next year; advis a tragedy at the age of eighteen, I cannot helping me to make my application more early in thinking myself entitled to some share of indulgence for the humility, industry, and patience I have exerted during a period of ten years, in which this unfortunate production hath been exposed to the censure of critics of all degrees; and in consequence of their several opinions, altered, and (I hope) amended, times without number. Had some of those who were pleased to call themselves my friends been at any pains to deserve the character, and told me ingenuously the winter, that we might have time to concert such alterations as should be thought necessary for its successful appearance on the stage.—But I did not find my account in following this wholesome advice; for, to me, he was always less and less at leisure. In short, after sundry promises, and numberless evasions, in the course of which he practised upon me the whole art of procrasti nation, I demanded his final answer, with such obstinacy and warmth, that he could no longer resist my importunity, and refused my tragedy in plain terms. Not that he mentioned any material objections to the piece itself, but seemed to fear my interest was not sufficient to support it in the representation; affirming, that no dramatic composition, however perfect, could succeed with an English audience by its own merit only; but must entirely depend upon a faction raised in its behalf. Incensed at this unexpected declaration, I reproached him bitterly for having trifled with me so long; and, like my brother Bayes, threatened to carry my performance to the other house. with such advantage as should make ample amends for all my disappointments. But here too I reckoned without my host. The master of Covent Garden theatre bluntly rejected it, as a piece altogether unfit for the stage; even after he had told me, in presence of another gentleman, that he believed he should not venture to find fault with any performance which had gained the good opinion of the honourable person who approved and recommended my play. Baffled in every attempt, I renounced all hopes of its seeing the light, when a humane lady of quality interposed, so urgently in its behalf, with my worthy friend the other manager, that be very complaisantly received it again, and had recourse to the old mystery of protraction, which he exercised with such success, that the season was almost consumed, before he could afford it a reading. My patience being by this time quite exhausted, I desired a gentleman, who interested himself in my concerns, to go and expostulate with the vaticide; and indeed, this piece of friend This was actually my intention, when I was given to understand by a friend, that a nobleman of great weight had expressed an inclination to peruse it; and that, as interest was requisite, I could not do better than gratify his desire with all expedition. I committed it accordingly to the care of my counsellor, who undertook to give me a good account of it in less than a fortnight: but four months elapsed before I heard any tidings of my play; and then it was retrieved by pure acci-ship he performed with so much zeal, upbraiding dent (I believe) from the most dishonourable apartment of his lordship's house. Euraged at the behaviour of this supercilious peer, and exceedingly mortified at the miscarriage of all my efforts, I wreaked my resentment upon the innocent cause of my disgraces, and forthwith condemned it to oblivion, where, in all probability, it would have for ever slept, like a miserable abortion, had not a young gentleman of learning and taste waked my paternal sense, and persuaded me not only to rescue it from the tomb, where it had lain two whole years, but also to new model the plan, which was imperfect and undigested before, and mould it into a regular tragedy, confined within the unities of the drama. Thus improved, it fell into the hands of a gentleman who had wrote for the stage, and happened to please him so much, that he spoke of it very cordially to a young nobleman, since deceased, who, in the most generous manner, charged himself with the care of introducing it to the public; and, in the mean time, honoured me with his own remarks, in conformity to which, it was immediately altered, and offered by his lordship to the new manager of Drury-lane theatre. It was about the latter end of the season when this candid personage, to whom I owe many obligations for the exercises of patience he has set me, received the performance, which, some weeks after, he returned, assuring my friend that he was pre-engaged to another author, but if I could be prevailed upon to reserve it till the ensuing winter, he would bring it on. In the interim, my noble patron left London, whither he was doomed never to return; and the conscientious manager next season, instead of fulfilling his own promise and my expectation, gratified the town with the production of a player, the fate of which every body knows. I shall leave the reader to make his reflections on this event, and proceed to relate the other particulars of fortune, that attended my unhappy issue, which, in the succeeding spring, had the good luck to acquire the approbation of an eminent wit, who proposed a few amendments, and recommended it to a person, by whose influence, I laid my account with seeing it appear at last, him with his evasive and presumptuous bebaviour, that the sage politician was enraged at his reprimand; and in the mettle of his wrath, pronounced my play a wretched piece, deficient in language, sentiment, character, and plan. My friend, who was surprised at the hardiness and severity of this sentence, asking how he came to change his opinion, which had been more favourable when the tragedy was first put into his hands; he answered, that his opinion was not altered, neither had he ever uttered an expression in its favour. This was an unlucky assertion-for, the other immediately produced a letter which I had received from the young nobleman two years before, beginning with these words "Sir, I have received Mr. I's answer; who says, he thinks your play has indubitable merit, but has prior promises to Mr. T—n, that as an honest man, cannot be evaded."And concluding thus, "As the manager has promised me the choice of the season next year, if you'll be advised by me, rest it with me." After having made some remarks suitable to the occasion, my friend left him to chew the cud of reflection, the result of which was, a message to my patroness, importing, (with many expressions of duty) that neither the circumstances of his company, nor the advanced season of the year, would permit him to obey her command, but if I would wait till next winter, and during the summer, make such alterations as I had agreed to, at a conference with some of his principal performers, he would assuredly put my play in rehearsal, and in the mean time give me an obligation in writing, for my further satisfaction.— would have taken him at his word, without hesitation, but was persuaded to dispense with the proffered security, that I might not seem to doubt the influence or authority of her ladyship.-The play, however, was altered and presented to this upright director, who renounced his engagement, without the least scruple, apology, or reason assigned. Thus have I in the most impartial manner, (perhaps too circumstantially) displayed the conduct of those playhouse managers with whom I have had any concern, relating to my tragedy: and whatever disputes have happened between the actors and me, are suppressed as frivolous animosities unworthy of the reader's attention. Had I suffered a repulse when I first presented my performance, I should have had cause to complain of my being excluded from that avenue to the public favour, which ought to lie open to all men of genius; and how far I deserve that distinction, I now leave the world to decide; after I have, in justice to myself, declared that my hopes of success were not derived from the partial applause of my own friends only, but inspired (as some of my greatest enemies know) by the approbation of persons of the first note in the republic of taste, whose countenance, I vainly imagined, would have been an effectual introduction to the stage. Be that as it will, I hope the unprejudiced observer will own, with indignation and disdain, that every disappointment I have endured was an accumulated injury; and the whole of my adversary's conduct, a series of the most unjustifiable equivocation and insolent absurdity: for, though he may be excusable in refusing a work of this kind, either on account of his ignorance or discernment, surely, neither the one nor the other can vindicate his dissimulation and breach of promise to the author. Abuse of prerogative, in matters of greater importance, prevails so much at present, and is so generally overlooked, that it is almost ridiculous to lament the situation of authors, who must either, at once, forego all opportunities of acquir ing reputation in dramatic poetry, or humble themselves so, as to sooth the pride, and humour the petulance of a mere Goth, who, by the most preposterous delegation of power, may become sole arbiter of this kind of writing. Nay, granting that a bard is willing to prostitute his talents so shamefully, perhaps he may never find an occasion to practise this vile condescension to advantage: for, after he has gained admission to a patentee (who is often more difficult of access than a sovereign prince) and even made shift to remove all other objections, an insurmountable obstacle may be raised by the manager's avarice, which will dissuade him from hazarding a certain expense on an uncertain issue, when he can fill his theatre without running any risk, or disobliging his principal actors, by putting them to the trouble of studying new parts Besides, he will be apt to say within himself, "If I must entertain the town with variety, it is but natural that I should prefer the productions of my friends, or of those who have any friends worth obliging, to the works of obscure strangers, who have nothing to recommend them but a doubtful superiority of merit, which, in all likelihood, will never rise in judgment against me." That such have been the reflections of patentees, I believe no man of intelligence and veracity will deny; and I will venture to affirm, that on the strength of interest or connection with the stage, some people have commenced dramatic authors, who otherwise would have employed their faculties in exercises better adapted to their eapacity. After what has been said, any thing by way of application would be an insult on the under standing of the public, to which I owe and acknowledge the most indelible obligation for former favours as well as for the uncommon encouragement I have received in the publication of the fullowing play. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. MEN. King of Scotland. Athol. Stuart. Grime. Cattan. WOMEN. Queen. Eleonora. GUARDS, ATTENDANTS, ETC. ACT I. SCENE I. A Convent in Perth. ANGUS, DUNBAR. DUNBAR. BUT that my duty calls, I would decline ANGUS. Not to th' ensanguin'd field of death alone -What frenzy were it DUNBAR. Well hast thou taught me, how the piercing eye |