tion now before us: but it were rather to be wished that the vicious amours of Jupiter and Apollo, with the drunken freaks of Bacchus, &c. &c. were all made to give way entirely, and for ever, to more innocent and more edifying objects. The ftores of Nature, all beauteous, elegant, and grand, are inexhauftible. Let thefe be ftudied, as they have laudably been, by many excellent artifts, rather than the monftrous fictions of the poets. Let the pen of the hiftorian, however, continue to find employment for the pencil. Hiftory will always furnish proper fubjects for the emulation, inftruction, or delight of mankind; and perhaps it may with truth be faid, that one of the greatest atchievements of the human genius, is a capital hiftory-piece, executed with all the powers and the art of a Raphael, a Titian, a Corregio, or a Rubens.

ART. II. The Inflexible Captive; a Tragedy. By Mifs Hannah More *. 8vo. 1 s. 6d. Cadell, &c.

E

To Greece no more the tuneful maids belong,
Nor the high honours of immortal fong;

1774

TO MORE, BROOKS, Lenox, AIKIN, CARTER due,
TO GREVILLE, GRIFFITH, WHATELEY, MONTAGU!
Theirs the strong genius, theirs the voice divine;
And favouring Phoebus owns the BRITISH NIKE.

LEVATED with the honour of our fair countrywomen, we had almoft forgot the feverity of criticifm and the infirmi ties of age, and were hobbling into rhyme; but, leaving to them the palm of verfe, and contenting ourselves with waiting on them in their excurfions, we fhall attend our very ingenious and amiable Author through the well-drawn fcenes of her Inflexible Captive.

This tragedy is founded on the Attilio Regola of Metaftafio; but, being extended to five acts, Mifs More was frequently under a neceffity of becoming original, and of depending on her own invention.

Prefixed to the play is the following argument:

Amongst all the great names, which have done honour to antiquity in general, and to the Roman republic in particular, that of Marcus Attilias Regulas has, by the general confent of all ages, been confidered as one of the moft refpectable, fince he not only facrificed his labours, his liberty, and his life, for the good of his country, but by a greatnefs of foul, almoft peculiar to himself, contrived to make his very misfortunes contribute to that glorious end.

After the Romans had met with various fucceffes in the first Pa nic war, under the command of Regulus, victory at length declared for the oppofite party, the Roman army was totally overthrown, and Regulus himself taken prifoner, by Xantippus, a Lacedæmonian general in the fervice of the Carthaginians: the victorious enemy exult

Author of The Search after Happiness, recommended in our Review for September, 1773.

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ing

ing in fo important a conqueft, kept him many years in clofe imprifonment, and loaded him with the most cruel indignities. They thought it was now in their power to make their own terms with Rome, and determined to send Regulus thither, with their ambassador, to negotiate a peace, or, at leaft, an exchange of captives, thinking he would gladly perfuade his countrymen to discontinue a war, which neceffarily prolonged his captivity. They previously exacted from him an oath to return fhould his embassy prove unfuc cessful; at the fame time giving him to understand, that he must expect to fuffer a cruel death if he failed in it; this they artfully intimated as the ftrongest motive for him to leave no means unattempted to accomplish their purpose.

At the unexpected arrival of this venerable hero, the Romans expreffed the wildeft tranfports of joy, and would have fubmitted to almost any conditions to procure his enlargement; but Regulus, fo far from availing himself of his influence with the Senate to obtain any perfonal advantages, employed it to induce them to reject propofals fo evidently tending to dífhonour their country, declaring his fixed refolution to return to bondage and death rather than violate his oath.

'He at last extorted from them their confent; and departed amidst the tears of his family, the importunities of his friends, the applaufes of the Senate, and the tumultuous oppofition of the people; and as a great poet of his own nation beautifully obferves," he embarked for Carthage as calm and unconcerned, as if, on finishing the tedious law-faits of his clients, he was retiring to Venafrian fields, or the fweet country of Tarentum *."

In the above, and many other important particulars, the Author has paid the ftricteft regard to historical truth: in fome lefs effential points, where the thought it would rather obftruct than advance her purpose, she has ventured to deviate from it; particularly, in fixing the return of Regulus to Rome, pofterior to the death of his wife Martia. In this, as well as in the general conduct of the ftory, fhe has followed the Italian poet Metaltafio, in his opera on this fubject.'

It is not worth while here to detain our Readers by a display of erudition, in ftating the arguments that have been adduced by learned men, at different periods, for and against the punishment and patriotifm, and even the existence of fuch a man as Regulus. If there never was fuch a perfon, there would, perhaps, be no great hardiness in pronouncing that there never will be fuch a one; but it is our opinion that the truth lies here, where it generally lies, in the middle, and that there was fome diftinguished Roman called Regulus, the events of whose life have been hyperbolically related, and whofe patriotic character has been overcharged. In pity, at leaft, of modern patriotism, and in charity, we should think so.

The Regulus, like the reft of Metaftafio's works, abounds, almost every where, with thofe fine moral diftinctions so pecu

*HOR. book iii. ode 5.

liar to his genius and manner; and to say that these have undergone no difadvantage in the Inflexible Captive, would be shewing ourfelves very penurious in the fair Author's praife. She has, indeed, in all inftances, fupported, in many, improved, upon the fense and spirit of the Italian poet; and where she has found it neceffary to have recourfe to herfelf, and enlarge the original plan, fhe has done it with a degree of judgment that could be expected only from every privilege of experience, with a degree of genius which leaves not even Metaftafio to look down upon her.

Of that dignity of foul and fentiment which distinguish this tragedy, take the following fpecimen, from the converfation that paffed between Regulus and his fon Publius, &c.

ACT III.

Scene a Portico of a Palace without the Gates of Rome, the Abode of the Carthaginian Ambassador.

REG.

PUB.

REG.

PUB.

Enter REGULUS and PUBLIUS, meeting.
Ah! Publius here, at fuch a time as this?
Know'st thou th' important queftion that the Senate
This very hour debate ?-thy country's glory,
Thy father's honour, and the public good?
And lingereft here?

They're not yet met.

Away

Support my counfel in th' affembled fenate,
Confirm their wav'ring virtue by thy courage,
And Regulus fhall glory in his boy.

Ah! fpare thy fon the moft ungrateful task.
What!-fupplicate the ruin of my father?

REG.
The good of Rome can never hurt her fons.
PUB. la pity to thy children, fpare thyself.

REG.

PUB.

REG.

Doft thou then think that mine's a frantic brav'ry,
That Regulus would rafbly feek his fate?
Publius! how little doft thou know thy fire!
Misjudging youth! learn, that like other men,
I fhun the evil, and I feek the good,
But that I find in guilt, and this in virtue.
Were it not guilt, guilt of the blackest dye,
Even to think of freedom at th' expence
Of my dear bleeding country? therefore life
And liberty wou'd be my heaviest evils;
But to preferve that country, to restore her,
To heal her wounds though at the price of life,
Is virtue-therefore fervitude, and death,
Are Regulus's good-his wifb-his choice.

Yet fure our country

Is a whole, my Publius,
Of which we all are parts, nor fhould a citizen
Regard his interefts as diftin&t from ber's;
No hopes, or fears fhou'd touch his patriot foul,

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But

PUB.

But what affect her honour, or her fhame.
Ev'n when in hoftile fields he bleeds to fave her,
'Tis not his blood he loses, 'tis his country's;
He only pays her back a debt he owes.
To her he's bound for birth, and education:
Her larus fecure him from domestic feuds,
And from the foreign foe her arms protect him.
She lends him honours, dignity, and rank,
His wrongs revenges, and his merit pays;
And like a tender, and indulgent mother,
Loads him with comforts, and wou'd make his state
As blefs'd as nature, and the gods defign'd it.
Such gifts, my fon, have their alloy of pain,
And let th' unworthy wretch who will not bear
His portion of the public burthen, lofe
Th' advantages it yields,-let him retire
From the dear bleffings of a focial life,
Renounce the civiliz'd abodes of man,
And with affociate brutes a shelter feek
In horrid wilds, and dens, and dreary caves,
And with their fhaggy tenants fhare the spoil;
Or if the favage hunters mifs their prey,
From scatter'd acorns pick a fcanty meal,-
Far from the fweet civilities of life ;

There let him live, and vaunt his wretched freedom.
With reverence and aftonishment I hear thee!
Thy words, my father, have convinc'd my reafon,
But cannot touch my heart-nature denies
Obedience fo repugnant to her feelings.
Alas! can I forget I am a fon?

REG. A poor excufe, unworthy of a Roman !
Brutus, Virginius, Manlius-they were fathers.
'Tis true, they were; but this heroic greatness,
This glorious elevation of the foul,

PUB.

REG.

Рив.

REG.

PUB.

REG.

PUB.

Hath been confin'd to fathers.-Rome till now
Boafts not a fan of such surpassing virtue,
Who, fpurning all the ties of blood, and nature,
Hath labour'd to procure his father's death.

Then be the first to give the great example-
Go, haften, be thyself that fon, my Publius.—
My father! ah!

Publius, no more, begone-
Attend the fenate-let me know my fate,
"Twill be more glorious if announc'd by thee.

Too much, too much, thy rigid virtue claims
From thy unhappy fon. Oh nature, nature!
Publius! am I a ftranger, or thy father?
If thou regard'ft me as an alien here,
Learn to prefer to mine the good of Rome;
If as a father-reverence my commands.

Ah! could't thou look into my inmoft foul,
And fee how warm it burns with love, and duty,

Thou

REG.

Рив.

REG.

Thou would't abate the of thy breast,

rigour. of thy words.
Could I explore the fecrets
The virtue I wou'd wifh fhou'd flourish there
Were fortitude, not weak complaining love.
If thou requir'ft the blood of Publius,
I'll fhed it all, and grieve to do fo little;
But when thou doft injoin the harsher task
Of lab'ring to procure my father's death,
Forgive thy fon-he has not fo much virtue.
Exit PUBLIUS,

Manet REGULUS.

Th' important hour approaches, and my foul.
Lofes her wonted calmnefs, left the fenate
Should doubt what answer to return to Carthage,
O ye protecting deities of Rome!

Ye guardian gods, look down propitious on her,
Infpire her fenate with your facred wifdom,
And call up all that's Roman in their fouls!
Enter MANLIUS, Speaking,

See that the lictors wait, and guard the entrance-
Take care that none intrude.

Ah! Manlius here!

What can this mean?

MAN. Where, where is Regulus ?

The great, the god-like, the invincible?

Oh let me ftrain the hero to my breast.

REG. avoiding him. Manlius, ftand off, remember I'm a slave! And thou Rome's Conful

MAN.

REG.

ΜΑΝ.

REG.

I am fomething more:
I am a man enamour'd of thy virtues;

Thy fortitude and courage have fubdued me.
I was thy rival-I am now thy friend,
Allow me that distinction, dearer far
Than all the honours Rome can give without it.
This is the temper ftill of noble minds,
And thefe the bleffings of an humble fortune.
Had I not been a flave, I ne'er had gain'd
The treafure of thy friendship.

I'confefs,
Thy grandeur caft a veil before my eyes,
Which thy reverfe of fortune has remov'd.
Oft have I feen thee on the day of triumph,
A conqueror of nations enter Rome,
Now, thou haft conquer'd fortune, and thyself.
Thy laurels oft have mov'd my foul to envy,
Thy chains awaken my respect, and reverence;
Then Regulus appear❜d a hero to me,

He rifes now a God.

Manlius, enough.
Ceafe thy applaufe, for praifes fuch as thine,
Might tempt the moft fevere and cautious virtue.
Blefs'd be the gods, who gild my latter days,

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With