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practice of restoring animation and comfort to frozen limbs, by chafing them with snow, and of thawing frosted provisions by the same means, is well known but to what fact in Nature, or to what custom among mankind, does the pious and learned Watts allude, in the last three lines of the passage now quoted?

I shall consider myself as greatly indebted to any of your Readers, who will, by an explanation, enlighten the ignorance of

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Yours, &c.

Mr. URBAN,

PHILOMATHES.

Dec. 8.

HAD hoped that the remarks made upon the Poem of Wallace, in p. 311, would, ere now, have been answered by some one more competent than I feel myself to be, for entering into the defence of an author's publication. But no one having yet advanced to give those remarks any kind of reply, I have been induced to step forward myself, though not without great reluctance, because I fear 1 am not one who is able to do that justice which a Poem like "Wallace"deserves. I flatter myself, however, that I shall have it in my power to illustrate at least some of those passages, pointed out as being veiled in obscurity.

Your Correspondent S. E. Y. prefaces his observations by a seeming acknowledgment, that the obscurity complained of may possibly arise from his own "confined powers of apprehension," and modestly talks of the" obtuseness of his faculties." This, however, is a mask easily seen through; and those who peruse his critique must, I am sure, readily perceive, that he does not imagine his intellects to be quite so muddy, as one would, from his preface, be almost induced to suppose he did. I will, however, take him at his own word; and without at all intending or wishing to arrogate to myself the claim of a clearer perception than, the generality of others, endeavour to explain the passages he has marked out as being so particularly unintelligible.

I make no doubt your Correspondent will triumph, however, when I tell him, that I cannot but confess, the stanza wherein the Authoress of “Wallace” laments her inability to recount the names of every hero and patriot, is indeed very ambiguously

expressed. To say that it is absolutely without meaning or connexion, is not my intention. I have put a construction upon it that satisfies myself; but, as the passage is certainly a doubtful one, I will not hazard my opinion upon it, lest I should have misunderstood the Authoress, and thus be doing an injury, where I wish to do a benefit.

I therefore suffer this remark of S. E. Y. to rest, and leave him to that exultation, which no doubt he will feel, on thus having the field resigned to him.

As mean to follow your Correspondent's own track, my next observation will be made on the lines relative to Scrymgeour. S. E. Y. wishes to know where we are to look for that " History grave, and verse sublime," which are to give that warrior the meed of deathless fame. I shall first observe, that in poems celebrating the deeds of brave men, nothing is more common, or more natural, than a prophecy of this kind. Miss Holford having, in the course of her collecting the materials for her work, met with the name and actions of Scrymgeour, she has, in the warmth of composition, and the glow of admiration, which no doubt she thought all like herself must feel, who had made themselves acquainted with his history, foretold that his fame shall descend to the latest time. And is there any thing unwarrantable in this? or can censure be extended to expressions like these? I am bold to say NO. But your Correspondent in this, as in other instances, being blind to the sparks of a soaring genius, calmly and coldly enquires, where is this fame-bestowing history to be found! I would ask him, if he imagines the Authoress of "Wallace" to have coined this character herself; for, surely, if he believes that such a Chief as Scrymgeour ever existed; if he supposes that his name and actions are something more than the mere invention of the Authoress' brain; I say, if he believes this, he cannot but reasonably conclude, that there is a history of him somewhere; and for farther illustration of this passage, I refer him to a work called "The Scottish Chiefs;" the Authoress of which asserts, that the outlines and principal features of her story are founded on historical and traditionary

-facts.

facts. He will there find an ample description of Scrymgeour, both in the work itself, and in the annotations prefixed to it.

Noue, however, but an invidious Critick would have required this explanation.

As to the expression of "beads of fear," I have only to say, that tastes frequently differ. It is, indeed, a novel idea; and introduced as it is by Miss Holford, to me it appears as beautiful as it is original. From the remarks of S. E. Y. upon this expression, I am almost induced to think he is ignorant of its meaning.

Your Correspondent seems astonished at the idea of a scarf being tied round the neck. Let him look in Johnson for the definition of the word scarf, and I believe his wonder will soon cease.

His next observation is upon the manner in which the pîbroch is introduced a martial sound being attri buted to it in one instance, and a merry one in another. But what of this? Does your Correspondent suppose, that a musical instrument must necessarily be confined to one species of musick? Does he imagine that what produces a martial sound, cannot be made to produce any other? I would have him consider,

if

many of the instruments composing a martial band are not often used to direct and give spirit to the sprightly dance? or whether he has not, even in the streets, heard a slow and solemn air, immediately succeeded by a lively one? This observation of your Correspondent is certainly contemptible in the extreme, and would lead us to think he knows as little about Musick, as he appears to do about Poetry. But I must here beg leave to inform S. E. Y. that he himself has been guilty, at least in my opinion, of the very same fault with which he charges the Authoress of "Wallace," that is, obscurity! cannot comprehend what he means by asking the question, whether the pibroch is an unfeeling instrument, that obeys the hand or breath of the master to any tune, indifferent whether grief or joy?” I never knew, for my own part, that any instrument was otherwise than this. Does your Correspondent imagine, when he hears a musician play a bold, a lively, er a plaintive air, that it proceeds

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from the instrument's incapacity to produce any other? What! S. E. Y. does not know then, that the strings or keys of an instrument are entirely under the controul of the musician, and that lively or plaintive notes, discord or melody, are all to be produced, and only to be produced, by the method of playing. I hope your Correspondent will another time be more cautious in giving his opinions, and not, in the rancour of animosity, forget the distinctions between sense and nonsense!

And so Miss Holford is to be taxed with plagiarism, because she says, "Who is it that rides thro' the night so fast?" I have only to observe, that if this is to be called borrowing, I shall feel much obliged by S. E. Y's pointing but the author not guilty of it. What, because Mr. Lewis has said, "Who is it that rides so fast," every one else is to be precluded from asking a similar question. To be sure there is a great sublimity of idea in the expression, and such as would occur but to very few! Hey, S. E. Y? is it not so? Fie, fie! Supposing the expressions quoted above can bear the epithet of plagiarism, that plagiarism is so trifling, so insignificant, that I am sure none but a Critick like S. E. Y. could have thought of privately, much less publicly, mentioning it.

In the same stanza your Correspondent marks a passage as being so unconnected, as to appear ridiculous. I think it necessary to quote, the lines:

"I mark'd on Scotland's saddest day, The spot where her mangled father lay! The maiden blossom of the North, Like a pale snow-drop glinted forth," &c.

to the maiden blossom of the North,” He imagines the word her relates whose name a subsequent line mentions as being Margaret. Why if this is the meaning of Miss Holford, I am willing to allow, that the passage is unconnectedly expressed. But what authority has S. E. Y. for placing this construction upon it?

"I mark'd on Scotland's saddest day, The spot where her mangled father lay.”

I hope I am not misunderstanding Miss Holford; but, without a moment's hesitation, I apply the word her to Scotland; and, as in the lines immediately preceding these, it is expressed that Alexander, King of Scotland,

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having lost his road in the darkness
of a very tempestuous night, had
fallen from the top of a high cliff, I
cannot imagine why S. E. Y. should
suppose that the expression of "her
mangled father" applied to "the
inaiden blossom of the North." They
undoubtedly refer to Scotland, and to
Alexander as her King, who is here
pathetically called "her mangled
father;" that is, the father of Scot-
land. Those who read the whole of
the stanza must, I think, instantly
take it in this manner. What follows
is a description of quite a different
event, though connected with the
foregoing, because Margaret was, if
I understand Miss Holford's note,
the grand-daughter of this Alexander.
This circumstance, while it proves
the connexion of the whole stanza,
proves also, that the words "her
mangled father" cannot refer to
"the maiden blossom of the North,"
who was not the daughter, but the
grand-daughter of this "mangled
father." Let S. E. Y. read the passage
in this manner, let him apply the
expression to Scotland, as indeed I
think both the grammar and sense
'seem to demand, and then let him
say where is the nonsense he so bitterly
complains of.

S. E. Y.'s next observation is too

contemptible to deserve a reply. I only wish your Correspondent had shewn himself more worthy of the Church he professes so much to venerate, by displaying less rancour in the remarks he has thought proper to make.

Had he been more liberal in his ideas and criticism, those professions of love and veneration for his Church would have been uttered with more grace, and have come with an air of -greater sincerity, than they do at present.

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And so your Correspondent S. E. Y. had his teeth quite set on edge, by the grating, harsh proximity of the word blush," even though occurring in different stanzas, and six lines apart! I cannot but admire the delicacy of that gentleman's ear; and only wonder, when he had put on his microscopic glasses, he had not discovered that "blush'd" and "flush" come in the same line. Had he pointed this out, I should have thought his remark more reasonable, though even then it would have been contempt

ible; but as it is, I cannot help laughing at his fastidiousness. I have looked for the tautology, but cannot find it: besides, the line is mis-quoted. I do not know whether this alters the case of tautology alluded to by S.E.Y., but standing as the line does now, or as it ought to do, I am equally unable to discover it.

Skipping over his other truly insignificant objections, I come to the remark made on these lines:

"And dear to my heart sounds the
mournful swell,

As it swings on the air of thy curfew knell."
He here
"I will suppose a
says:
Critick (he should have said an illi-
beral one) taking advantage of this
description, and expressing himself
in words like these: a swell swinging
on the air of a knell ! preposterous!
as if the knell caused the air for a
swell to swing on!" Why truly if
the Authoress meant this, it would
be preposterous indeed. But it is
equally preposterous to imagine the
expressions were meant to convey
so absurd an idea.

S. E. Y. seems to have been able, without much difficulty, to place a more sensible construction upon it; and after doing this, I wonder he should make himself so ridiculous, as to tell the world, be ever thought of placing such an unwarrantable construction upon it, as he appears to have done at first.

If the ears of S. E. Y. were wounded at the repetition of the word "blush,” though occurring in different stanzas, and six lines apart (by the bye, I could find much closer repetitions even in Pope) his delicate stomach seems ready to heave at the idea of a traitor steeped in infamy and scorn! I am really sorry that such a poem as "Wallace" should have fallen into the hands of one so completely blind, either from nature or design, to what constitutes warmth of imagination, or dignity of expression. So far from regarding this passage as mean or faulty, I consider it as one truly beautiful. If the poem of "Wallace" is ever read the scullions of a cook'samong shop, the expression of "steeped" may possibly put them in mind of their hashes and soups; but when perused by one whose sentiments are refined by education, and whose judgment is unclouded by prejudice and envy the expression must strike with all

that

that force and beauty, no doubt, intended by the fair Authoress.

As S. E. Y.'s other objections seem principally confined to errors of grammar and the press, I pass over them as not worth attending to here.

:

There is but one remark more of your Correspondent's I wish to notice. He seems to complain of not having been able to discover that the page "David" was no other than " Agnes" in disguise. I am really at last almost ready to believe, that S. E. Y.'s modest preface is something more than affected diffidence and pretended moderation; and that he actually imagines his faculties to be rather dull. When he tells us he never thought of David being Wallace's wife, even after he had read the poem through, I truly cannot forbear wondering at his want of comprehension for surely no one of common capacity can peruse the last canto, and not perceive the change of character that evidently takes place in "David." S. E. Y. must indeed be dull in the extreme, or he has read the poem over in a manner that reflects disgrace upon him, both as a man and a Critick. This latter I suspect as much as the former; but having now replied to all his remarks and objections, I cannot think of obtruding longer on the patience of your Readers. With a thorough contempt for his paltry observations, I take leave of your Correspondent S. E. Y.; not, however, without the conviction, that a far more culpable

and rancorous motive than he seems willing to insinuate, has dictated his miserable criticism; and that

"Malice lurks under his heavy brow, Though the sound of his words inove soft and slow!"

One word more, Mr. Urban, and I have done. A Correspondent in p. 482, signing himself Detector, seems like S. E. Y. to have been taken sick at the idea of a traitor steeped to the lips in infamy and scorn!

This valiant Critick, after charging Miss Holford with borrowing from Shakspeare's Othello, is not content with this frivolous insinuation, but tells her, she has borrowed in a clumsy and ridiculous manner. He acknowledges that the word "steeped" is introduced with striking beauty in Shakspeare; but asserts, that in

"Wallace" it is absolutely nonsensical. But why is it so appropriate in Othello, and so contemptible in Miss Holford? Why, Detector says, that Othello uttered this expression amid all the wild ravings of jealousy. True: but your Correspondent forgot, or like S. E. Y. was too blind to see, that Miss Holford uses it when speaking in all the warmth of noble indignation. This alone is sufficient to stamp it with the same degree of excellence as is attached to it by Detector in Othello. But, leaving jealousy and indignation quite out of the question, I should be glad if either S. E. Y. or Detector will point out the absurdity of the word steeped," supposing it to be introduced in any other manner. Why, if introduced in any other manner, it must of course be laughed at! Must it? Let these learned gentlemen look to the 14th Book of Pope's Iliad, and they will find these. lines:

"But how, uhbidden, shall I dare to

steep Jove's awful temples in the dew of sleep?" And again :

"There golden clouds conceal'd the heav'nly pair, Steep'd in soft joys," &c.

Is it the word steeped they quarrel with? What then do they say to Pope? Oh but in him it is no doubt introduced with striking beauty, as been termed contemptible? Why, it is in Othello! Then why has it only because it occurs in Wallace! Answer me, ye Criticks, is not this the reason?

And now, Mr. Urban, I conclude. The very high eulogium pronounced in your Magazine upon the poem of "Wallace," first induced me to get that noble work. Without the least prejudice, either in its favour, or otherwise, I sat down to read it; and rose from it, after an attentive perusal, with sentiments of the warmest approbation.

Seldom have I read a poem where such grandeur of expression, such sublimity of ideas, and such harmony of versification, have been so transcendently combined. Nor is this alone my opinion. Those whose judgments I have every reason to value, give it equal praise; and wherever I hear it spoken of, it is only in terms of unbounded panegyrick! What could

induce S. E. Y. and Detector to libel, in the manner they have done, a poem with which but few or noue others of the present day can even vie, I know not. That a work abounding with innumerable expressions, that are no less beautiful than they are original, should be called a patchwork, is equally astonishing. But But let these invidious Criticks rail: what does their criticism amount to? what have they discovered? Specks upon the sun! What have their objections been but frivolous and contemptible in the utmost degree? Then let us leave them to the indulgence of their spleen; let them spit out the venom of sarcastic malice till they are tired. Censure like theirs, aimed at the pages of such a poem as "Wallace," will be like breathing on polished steel.

Yours, &c.

Mr. URBAN,

CANDIDUS.

Dec. 9. KNOW how sincerely you desire to make your monthly publication the vehicle of improvement, as well as of entertainment; and I have determined to inclose to you for insertion, a Letter from a lady of the first character in the religious and literary world. It has been concealed amidst a number of papers many years; aud it may be of use, of benefit, of consolation, of encouragement, to those that are now, or may be hereafter engaged in the same toilsome employment wherein this lady's correspondent was occupied, when she favoured him with this excellent letter..

Yours, &c.

EMERITUS.

"Ir grieves me, good Sir, that I should be so constantly unfortunate in ny applications for persons, of whose merit your interesting yourself for them is a sufficient proof. The very first morning I could, 1 went to Lady T- with your letter; and not finding her at home, I enclosed a part of it to her the next day, in a long one of my own; and she very obligingly came hither last night to answer it. Alas! instead of being intimate with Mrs. P, she had never so much as heard of her; but is so much engaged by your character of this young man, that she heartily wishes for his sake, she really* bad the influence that she has been represented to you to have. On con

sidering together from whence the mistake could arise, she recollected there is another Lady Twhere she lives, or who are her connexions, I cannot learn.

; but

"I am truly concerned at the very indifferent account you give of your own health and spirits, and indeed have more than once this Winter been so uneasy at what Mr. had written to me about you, that I have beeu on the point of writing to inquire of yourself, unconscionable as it is to add unnecessarily to the number of your employments. If you follow with constancy the very necessary prescription of taking air and moderate exercise (which is also a time of relaxation), I should hope, that as the year advances, you will find your spirits improve enough to feel less of the weight, and more of the delight, of an employment, which surely, in some views, is a very delightful one. For yours, my good friend, is not the painful dry task of the rigid (and generally heathen) Schoolmaster, conversant only in tiresome parts of speech and Pagan Mythology, and such sort of matters; but yours is the part of the affectionate, though watchful parent; to supply to the rising hopes of those whom you love and honour, that amiable kind of home, of which, without you, the necessity of education must have deprived them for some years. 'Tis yours to instil every real and useful instruction, by easy, cheerful conversation, and pleasing example as well as precept; to dress up Religion and Virtue with every charm that can engage the youthful mind to love them; to breed up a little set of future Peers and Senators, and Heroes in Christian friendship; and characters formed by your tender care, growing up to love and respect you through life. These sort of considerations, when your spirits are become stronger, will soften the hours of wearisome affliction or infirmity, which all Nature must sometimes feel.

'Delightful task, to rear the tender thought,

To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind-'

"But I will not go on quoting that beautiful passage in Thomson's Spring, with which, to be sure, you

are

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