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For eighteen years of winter, I ne'er faw
2. Eliz. o Duke, enough, thy language ftabs my soul.
Nor. No feather'd chorister of chearful note,
2. Eliz. O horror! Cecil, top thy ears and mine.
Nor. I found this mourning Excellence alone.
Q. Eliz. No more ; alas ! I cannot hear thee out
Nor. Ol never till you have pity.
2. Elic. O! I am drown'd! I am melted all to pity.
Nor. Quickly the wak'd, for grief ne'er rested long,
Q. Eliz. My breaft, like a full prophet, is o'er charg'd,
And bring this mourning Goddess to me straight ;
And thou, kind Norfolk, fee my will obey'd.”
• Enter Norfolk.
Eliz. My Lord, we know your fame for loyalty ;
Nor. Forbid it Heaven that there should be just cause!
Nor. As fach, I trust I've not disgrac'd my charge,
Nor. On Mary's fide fair as her beauteous front.
Eliz. How! to my face? [afide.
Nor. Aspire to gain the Queen of Scots ? Tall I,
Eliz. Is, then, a diadem so small a prize?
Nor. Pardon me, Madam, if I have no wish
Eliz. Then England boasts a peer who scorns the match
Nor. Such are the gifts of bounteous Providence,
Or in the crouded field at country sports,
Eliz. Say I'll come. (Exit Dav. [ Afde.) So Leicester has some secret to divulge Upon his death-bed, tho' I trust to Heav'n He doth not yet upon his death-bed lie! [ Addressed to Norfolk.) And on what pillow Norfolk lays his head, Let him beware!- [Exit Eliz.'
Enter Norfolk, throwing himself at Elizabeth's Feet.
Eliz. You may arise ;
Nor. Tho' justice is of right, yet he who feels
Eliz. Norfolk, attend ! this caution now remains;
Nor. This act of justice clainis my folemn vow.
Cecil. Norfolk, this escape
The very thought's a crime-Nature may change;
Lament our fate, and take my last farewell.' Many of the scenes of this tragedy are not only irregular, but superfluous: the style is a cold imitation of Shakespeare, the great model of the historical drama; which he has contrived, particularly in his two parts of Henry the Fourth, to enliven with humour, and to enrich with passion; giving at once the varieties of the theatre, and the truths of history; and bringing old times, old characters, and old chronicles, before delighted hearers and spectators. In contemplation of such excellencies, we abstain from any further examination of the tragedy of Mary Queen of Scots.
Col..n. Art. XII. Four Tracts. J. On the Principle of Religion, as a Test
of Divine Authority. II. On the Principle of Redemption, whether if premial, it is agreeable; or, if judicial, contrary to Divine Rectitude. ÍII. On the Angelical Message to the Virgin Mary. IV. On the Resurrection of the Body, as inferred from that of Christ, and exemplified by scriptural Cases. With a Discourse on Humility. By Robert Holmes, B. D.* Professor of Poetry in the University of Oxford, Rector of Stanton, and late Fellow of New College. 8vo. pp. 307. 55. Boards. Rivingtons, &c. 1788. 7 E have, in Nos. I. II. and III. of these tracts, an inge
nious and candid desence of the doctrine of the church of England, respecting the nature and person, sufferings and death of Chrift. The profefled design of the first is, to fix the characteristical principle of religion, and to thew upon what precise view of the Divine Being it was at different times founded.' But the author has, evidently, a further intention, viz. to prove that repentance alone, is not sufficient to obtain the forgiveness of fin, or to give the finner any rational assurance of exemption from its penal effects; and that all other facrifices, the facrifices of Abel, of the patriarchs, and of the Jews, had a reference to, and were facramental representations of the death of Christ, which alone was, in a strict and proper sense, an expiatory fin-offering.' The general train of thought and reasoning in this tract is, that in consequence of the fall, the principle of fear, ie. dread of the divine displeasure and apprehension of punishment, took porfefiion of the human mind, to the total exclusion of the principle of love, or confidence in the divine goodness and mercy; which latter principle, in the fallen state of human nature, owes its
Rev. June, 1789.
first existence to the promise contained in Gen. iii. 15. and, consequently, was unknown in the Gentile world, and took place among the worshippers of the true God, only in the degree in which chat promile was believed and understood; that the divine purpose of reversing the penal effects of the fall gradually opened and explained, by subsequent revelations, the institution of sacrifices, especially ihose of the Mosaic ritual, the prophecies respecting the Messiah, &c. till at length the death of Christ, the only proper facrifice for fin, whose first and greatest object it was to obtain the indemnity of the world from penal evils, accomplished that great revolution, which God, from the tiae of the promise to the completion, had been forwarding in many ways, but with one defiyn; and restored the principle of love, to the exelusion of that of fear. In the course of this argument, it is supposed that facrifices were of divine inftitution: it is farther prefumed, without the shadow of reason, that the faith which'reinered Abel's sacrifice more acceptable than that of Cain, was faith in the promise made to our first parenis immediareiy after the fall, that the feed of the woman should bruise the serpent's head: and at length, it is roundly aflerted, p. 103, that there never was but one great object, which the known facrificial * terms of scripture ftri&tly and properly denoted, and to that ohject, accordingly, the apostles apply them in the manner they would have done, if there had been no patriarchal or legal facrifices to represent it.' That in consequence of the fall, the principle of fear took place in the human breaft, to the entire exclusion of love or confidence, Dr. H. infers from the senti. menis and practice of the disciples of nature,' who, on all occafions, expressed a dread of the anger of their deities; and whole sacrifices and luit:ations were manireftly designed to avert their vengeance. Now that fear, or love and confidence, respecting the great moral Governor, thould take place in proportion as a consciousness of innocence, or senfe of guilt, prevails in the mind, appears to us a juit and rational sentiment. But the difiiples of nature knew nothing of the fall of Adam and its supposed consequences : their sense of guilt must have been altogether personal; and very little, we imagine, can be satisfactorily concluded, respecting the measures and maxims of the divine moral government, from their sentiments or practice, who had such obscure and unsettled notions of a supreme Ruler, who ascribed human imperfections and parlions to the objects of their worthip, and who looked on their deities as superior to themselves only in knowlege and power. And if the facrifices and services of the Mosaic ritual had a typical, or, according to our author, sacramental reference to the death of Christ, it appears to us unac
* Dr. H. always writes, facrificial, initead of, Jacrifical.