That it is in vain to fhrink from what cannot be avoided, and to hide that from ourselves which must fome times be found, is a truth which we all know, but which all neglect, and perhaps none more than the fpeculative reafoner, whofe thoughts are always from home, whofe eye wanders over life, whofe fancy dances after meteors of happiness kindled by itfeif, and who examines every thing rather than his own ftate.

Nothing is more evident, than that the decays of age must terminate in death. Yet there is no man (fays Tully) who does not believe that he may yet live another year, and there is none who does not, upon the fame principle, hope another year for his parent or his friend; but the fallacy will be in time detected; the last year, the last day, will come it has come, and is pait. The life which made my own life pleasant is at an end, and the gates of death are shut upon my profpects.'

The lofs of a friend, on whom the heart was fixed, and to whom every with and endeavour tended, is a state of defolation in which the mind looks abroad impatient of itself, and finds nothing but emptiness and horror. The blameless life, the artlefs tenderness, the native fimplicity, the modeft refig. nation-the patient fickness and the quiet death, are remembered only to add value to the lofs to aggravate re. gret for what cannot be amended-to deepen forrow for what cannot be re

called.

ed witness of his misfortunes or fuc. cefs. Misfortunes indeed he may yet feel, for where is the bottom of the mifery of man! but what is fuccefs to him, who has none to enjoy it Happinefs is not found in felf-contempla tion; it is perceived only when it is reflected from another.

We know little of the fate of del parted fouls, because such knowledge is not neceffary to a good life. Reafon deferts us at the brink of the grave, and gives no farther intelligence. Revelation is not wholly filent. • There is joy among the angels in heaven over a finner that repenteth." And furely the joy is not incommunicable to fouls difentangled from the body, and made like angels..

Let hope, therefore, dictate what revelation does not confute that the union of fouls may still remain; and that we, who are struggling with fin, forrow, and infirmities, may have one part in the attention and kindness of thofe who have finished their courfe, and are now receiving the rewand.

These are the great occafions which force the mind to take refuge in religion. When we have no help in our felves, what can remain but that we look up to a higher and greater power? And to what hope may we notraife our eyes and hearts, when we confider that the greatest power is the best ?

Surely there is no man who, thus afflicted, does not feek fuccour in the gospel, which has brought life and im mortality to light! The precepts of Epicurus, which teach us to endure what the laws of the univerfe make ne ceffary, may filence, but not content us. The dictates of Zeno, who commands us to look with indifference on abfrat things, may difpofe us to conceal our forrow, but cannot affuage it. Real alleviation of the lofs of friends, and rational tranquillity in the profpect of our own diffolution, can be received only from the promife of him in whole hands are life and death, and from the affurances of another and better state, in which all tears will be wiped from our eyes, and the whole foul thall be filled with joy. Philofophy may in. fufe ftubbornness, but religion only can give patience.

SAM. JOHNSON.

MACBETH.

SIR,

THE

HE kind promptitude with which you inferted my laft critique on a paffage in this great Tragedy (See European Magazine for January 1801, p. 8), has encouraged me to addrefs you briefly once more, and to lay before your readers an idea which I never yet found ftarted by commentators or edi

tors.

Those who view the reprefentation of Macbeth" at Drury-lane, will have but a faint, a very faint opinion indeed, of the terrible graces which once adorned that ftupendous fpectacle. To enter. tain a full perception of Shakspeare's "burning thoughts," we ought to carry with us to the theatre, part of the general fuperftition which fomuch prevailed during his existence. We ought to remember, that the agency of black and white witches, of ghofts, of portents, of illufions, of apparitions, of embodied phantoms, of fairies, gnomes, and fylps, was all then implicitly received by the vulgar as poffible, probable, and true. People went not then, as now, to fee what they before knew to be a repre fentation of fanciful imagery; no, Sir, they went tremblingly alive to the cun ning of the fcene; they contemplated the itage as a lively tranfcript of exiftent machinery and every art of the then reigning Manager was exerted to add to the magic of the fight.

:

The ideal dagger, A&t II. Scene 1. the gheft of Banquo A&t III. Scene 4, &c. &c. were not then omitted: I myfelf, Sir, well remember thefe pantomimic ornaments within thefe few years, at a very refpectable theatre. Mr. Sheridan has haftily difpenfed with both; at the fame time that he allows in "The Caftle Spectre" a far more loathfome fpectacle, a female form, fpouting gore from its left breaft!!! I mention this circumtance, merely to fhew my opinion that Shakspeare's horrors are not omitted from a ftrict and confcientious refpect for the growing delicacy of the age.

And now for my idea, Mr. Editor. It is this. I think, Sir, that at a time when St. Chryfoftom's directions [See his book De Sacerdotis] would have not only been admitted, but would have been fuccefsful : 6 Δεικνύτο δὲ ἔτι παρὰ τοῖς ἐναντίοις καὶ πετομένες ἵππος διά τινος μαγγανείαι, καὶ ὁπλίτας δὲ αερος φερόμενος,

καὶ πόσην γοητείας δύναμιν καὶ ἰδέαν.”. At fuch a time, Sir, every scenic deception would have been eagerly adopted, that would enhance the potency of the weird fifters.

Macbeth is a character of fingular properties: brave, fhrewd, pious, ho nourable, loyal-but fuperftitious, haughty, and ambitious. The weird fifters (whofe malignant tempers are fo admirably exhibited in Act I. Scene 3. and Act IV. Scene 1.), could not fail to view fuch a victim with exultation and anticipated triumph. Accordingly, we find Macbeth, like Charles Moor, in Schiller's "Robbers," oppreffed, and at length overcome, by fatalifm: Macbeth evidently duped by preternatural, Moor by very unnatural, occurrences. Macbeth visibly the dupe of a diabolical agency; Moor as visibly the dupe of a diabolical prepoffeffion. Both heroes; both martyrs to deception.

Thefe premifes once admitted, let me point your full attention to A& III. Scene 3. Who is the THIRD MURDERER? Who puts out the light ?-In my humble opinion, which I advance with the utmost deference to fuperior judgment, this third affaffin was not "fent to join the others, from Macbeth's fuperabundant caution," as Mr. Malone ingenioufly fuppofes. I imagine him to be an infernal agent of the weird fifters, fent by them, not to aid the murder of Banquo, but to defeat the well planned ftra'a. gem against the life of Fleance. Let not this fingular interpretation be haftily rejected: the intereft of the drama is hereby confiderably heightened; and this inftrument of witchcraft may even have been fent by HECATE to counteract the machinations of fubordinate fpirits. That the was incenfed at their furtherance of Macbeth's defigns is apparent from the opening of Act III. Scene 5. Nay, Sir, I think Shak fpeare. once intended to have introduced her (though unfeen by Macbeth) uttering the words of horror quoted by Mac beth, Act II. Scene 2.

"Sleep no more! "Macbeth doth murder fleep," &c.

The words, as I imagine, were intended by Hecate as indicative to Macbeth of additional interference ; they

were

for Macbeth is terrified beyond meafure, he is amazed, and declares he will have "no more fights!"

Throughout the remnant of the play, we repeatedly perceive the potency of Hecate's fpell; the tyrant's reafon is evidently affected: this indifputably appears in the difordered fpeech, A& V. Scene 3. beginning "Throw phyfic to the dogs," &c.

In hopes these novel fuggeftions may meet with the approbation of your intelligent readers, I remain respectfully, SIR, Your obedient humble fervant, W. B.

Chelsea.

66

THE HE French Citizen Neufchateu (under the title of the Confervateur) has this day published a little work in two volumes, compofed of literary and political fcraps, among which is the following letter from the well-known Jean Jacques Rousseau, to the Lady Marshal of Luxembourg.

"How much have I not to communicate ere I leave you! But time preffes hard upon me, I muft make my confeffion fhort, and entrust your noble heart with my last fecret. Know then, that for fixteen years I had cohabited with a poor girl, whose services became neceffary to my habits of life. I afterwards loved her as a fifter, nor is my fondness for her at all diminished, Yet, without you, Madam, I must leave her in a helplefs condition, and thus render my lat

ter moments intolerable. From this connexion have fprung five children, all of whom were fent to the Foundling Hofpital, but with fo little care that it may be difficult to find them again, for I had even neglected to mark the pe riods of their birth. A consciousness of this negligence has for fome years interrupted my tranquillity, and I lament it when it is too late, to mine and their mother's great forrow. I had merely fet a particular mark on the linen of the eldeft, a duplicate of which has been preferved; that child must have been born in the winter of 1746 or 1747, or thereabouts. This is all I know.

"JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU.” So much for this profeffed lover of the whole human race.

THERE are few fituations in life fo exquifitely wretched as to admit of neither comfort nor confolation, provided the heart is deftitute of that felf-reproach, and those inordinate affections, which can embitter and disturb the highest state of profperity.

VOL. XXXIX. MARCH 1801.

MARC. AUREL.

invent, and practise almost any means to answer its unconfcionable demands. We open this account as foon as we fet out in life, nor is it clofed till the efcutcheoned hearse and funereal proceffion record the laft inftance of human infirmity.

In our commerce with the world, we purchase the paltry articles of pride and vanity, fuch as equipage, drefs, and the refined pleasures of cuftom, at a very high price. We are debtors in an abundance of wealth and happiness, and place nothing to the creditor fide of the account, but empty gratifications, fears, anxieties, difeafe, and felf-reproach; when we might have received, in exchange for the goods of Fortune, the fubftantial advantages of peace, independence, and felf-fatisfaction.

But we must mend the morals before the manners can be improved. The ridiculous diftinctions of appearance in dress, the living in a certain ftile, etiquette, and other nonsensicals of custom, must be abolished, as unneceffary to happiness and true politenefs, and deftructive of morality; cleanlinefs and propriety must be fubftituted in the place of thofe unmeaning fashions by which imperious Abfurdity infolently proclaims her pre-eminence over Reafon, with the joint affittance of fome wretched coxcomb and an ignorant taylor. It becomes us now to cherish the ufeful, and to abandon the frivolous : let us endeavour to reftore, if poffible, the manners of thofe good old times, when the man was refpected for his worth, and not for his coat. It is a reflection upon the fenfe of the people, that the paltry auxiliaries of drefs are confidered as neceffary to our fuccefs in the world; and that in England a fool may, and a man of merit muft, puff himself into public estimation. The judgments that we form from outward appearances are of all others the most fallacious, the moft injurious to ourfelves, and the most deftructive of thofe genujne principles of truth which preferve the order and happiness of fociety: let us endeavour, then, by the affiftance of Good Senfe, to ouft the monster Fafhion and the tyrant Custom from their poffeffions among the upper and middling claffes of people; they are not harmless or infignificant, but allure, deceive, and betray their votaries to ruin.

Were we to reflect upon the vast numbers of those who daily fuffer in

involvement, anxiety, and diftrefs, from the defire of making an appear. ance in the world above their circumftances, one would almost wish that fumptuary laws were established to spare the cruel competition.

But the endemic of Pride is a conta gion that attacks all ages and conftitu. tions: it rages, indeed, chiefly among the great and rich, but it is to be found alfo in the miferable haunts of the poor; it is the vulture that gnaws at every breast, and is the prolific parent of every care.

As Pride is the greatest enemy, fo Humility is the best friend of mankind; Humility and Happiness increase in an equal ratio. If Viciffitude lowers our eftate, it is only drawing upon a portion of Humility, and the account is balanced. We fhall always find in the journal of life, that if we would be confiderable creditors in riches, we must neceffarily be debited with innumerable cares.

In one of my late perambulations in fearch of living characters, chance directed me to an obfcure public-house in the vicinity of Fleet ftreet, where, in a corner-box of the parlour, I difcovered a man in whofe countenance care feemed to have made more ravages than age; it was a face of experience, and of experience come too late. Í feated myself by the fire; and, taking up a newspaper, was prepared to attend to any obfervations on life and manners that he might be led to make, in converfation with his companion, whe was listening attentively to him over a pot of porter.

"Why, Sir (cried the Man of Experience, taking the pipe from his mouth), Pride is the cause of one half of the mifchief in the world. We are poor, weak, infirm creatures, attracted by any bauble, pleased with any nonfenfe, and full of felf-love and conceit. I often think of the happy time when I was an apprentice, fitting by the fire-fide in the kitchen with Molly Bunce,reading Robinson Crufoe, and eating hot muffins; the profpect of a rainy day on Whitfun Monday conftituted my chief care.. I was nearly out of my time, when I became acquainted with Mafter Putty, the eldest fon of an eminent glazier in the next ftreet. Our acquaintance began at the door of his houfe, where I joined a party in tormenting a poor cat in the area and to that little incident I owe

:

aN

all the flaws and fcratches that I have fince had in the world. Master Putty did me the honour to chufe me for a companion; Bill Rattle was every thing in his opinion; for I was full of fpirits, and fond of mischief. Mafter Putty, however, informed me, it was abfolutely neceffary that I fhould dress like him; that I fhould have a lappelled coat, and taffels in my fhoes; and that I fhould by all means employ his taylor, Mr. Pantaloon, in Tavistock-street, who made for the first people in the town. Pride now laid hold of me, and all my thoughts were, how I fhould anfwer the taxes that it impofed: I wrote to my friends for money, I borrowed of my acquaintance, I bought tickets in the lottery, and I got admitted, through Mr. Putty's interest, into a gaminghoufe. Ábout this time my mafter, Mr. Peter Pruen, died, and, with the affiftance of my friends, I eftablished myfelf in the bufinefs of a capital grocer, not without fome ideas of what is called etiquette and gentility. I knew that it was much lefs difgraceful to be in debt, than to want an elegantly furnished drawing room, or a glass of port wine after dinner. I foon began to live away in great ftile; business was neglected; the cafh debtor was more than cafh creditor; the bill book was filled with accommodation notes; and there was not a money-lender in town with whom I was not in fome meafure acquainted. For feven years I lived up to my chin in hot water; but I still perfevered in etiquette; and my wife, who had been a milliner's apprentice, having the fame genteel opinions with

I

myself, we kept up appearances to the astonishment of all who knew us. At laft, Mr. Congo, the wholefale teadealer in Fenchurch-ftreet, having drawn a bill upon me for goods to the amount of two hundred pounds, which I was unable to answer when it became due, ftruek a docquet against me, and Dick Putty and myself were gazetted the fame week; my only confolation was, that I had spent fifteen hundred pounds, had lived like other people, and that things had at laft come to a genteel focus. If this little history of life can be of any service to you, you are welcome to it; but, my dear Jack, never let any body perfuade you to go beyond your circumstances. If you are determined to be worth nothing, at any rate let your expences be in exact proportion to your income; but if you would lay up for a rainy day, or bad times, let them be fomething lefs. Pride is not eafily gratified; you will ftill be far behind fools more expenfive than yourself; follow the good old maxim, "Be just before you are generous." Keep out of debt, and you will always have fomething to be gene

rous with. I have never been able to redeem the past; but, thank God! I am not fo reduced, but that I can enjoy my pipe, and give counsel to a friend." With these words the Man of Experience clofed his difcourfe; and I returned home, contemplating the abfurdity of foolishly creating numerous idle wants and vanities, the attainment of which ftrips us of all the real comforts and enjoyments of life.

AGREE with R. in your Magazine for November last, p. 344, that the true reading in the celebrated line of Macbeth, is "written troubles." Locke's expreffion occurs in fcripture. See Jeremiah xxxi. 33. and Heb. viii. 10. But Shakspeare will here, perhaps, best explain himself in another paffage of equal excellence with that in Macbeth; I mean where Hamlet comments on his interview with the Ghost, Hamlet, A.I.

S. 5.

G. B.