Mr. Garrick was of course consulted, and his consent to the publication being obtained, the Ode appeared, and a thousand copies were sold in a week. In one of her letters to Mr. Garrick, respecting this classical composition, she says, "As I value myself on my truth, which I really have, and not on my wit, which I have not, I would sooner burn the whole, than lower what you unjustly call my compliments. Do you know, it is in the press, and almost printed off? do not think, however, that am like the woman who asked her friends' opinion of a match she pretended to have in view, when she had been privately married three weeks to the man."

During Hannah More's visit in London, the outline of the play of "Percy," was sketched, with the powerful aid of her friend; and on her return to Bristol, she "worked so hard," to use her own phrase, that in less than twelve months the five acts were completed, at least sufficiently so to pass the ordeal of dramatic censorship. Among other judges whose opinion she consulted, was Mrs. Boscawen, who replied, "Your play, I doubt not, has already received the criticism of Mr. Garrick. I have no idea it can have, or want, any other. Law and criticism must stop somewhere; the former, from appeal to appeal, ends, en dernier resort, with the House of Lords. Mr. Garrick is indisputably the House of Lords to dramatic poets; they can go no farther for decision of what is right or wrong; his fiat concludes all other judgment."

In the theatrical season of 1778, the tragedy was performed at Drury Lane, the prologue and epilogue being both written by Mr. Garrick; who exerted himself so much for the support of the piece, that the great actress, Catherine Clive, archly said, "his nursing had enabled the bantling to go alone in a month; while Cumberland's tragedy of the Battle of Hastings, which came out just after, for want of such fostership died of the rickets."

Though Mr. Gar composition also With his death,

The success of this play encouraged the author to try her strength again in the same walk of literature. Accordingly, in 1779, came out at Covent Garden, the tragedy of "Fatal Falsehood;" formed on a domestic story, and intended to exhibit in a forcible manner the danger of suffering the pas sions to gain an ascendancy over the mind. rick had lent his powerful assistance in this he lived not to witness its public reception. Hannah More dropped writing for the stage: and it has been also asserted, that from this period she never after attended a dramatic entertainment of any kind, either in the metropolis or elsewhere. Of the high estimation in which she was held by the widow of her lamented friend, a stronger testimony could not be given, than the pressing request made by Mrs. Garrick

that she would come and take up her residence for some time with her at Hampton. She did so, and continued to live there, or in the Adelphi, with short intervals, for near two years. Boswell, in his life of Johnson, says, that Mrs. Garrick was accustomed to call Miss More her "domestic chaplain ;" and the Doctor himself mentions her as the confidential friend of Mrs. Garrick, for whom she wrote and transacted business. Not long before his death, Johnson appeared one evening at the club in Essex-street in high spirits, and said, "I dined yesterday at Mrs. Garrick's, with Mrs. Carter, Miss Hannah More, and Fanny Burney, (the present Mrs. D'Arblay.) Three such women are not to be found. I know not where I could find a fourth, except Mrs. Lennox, who is superior to them all."

Miss Reynolds, sister to the illustrious painter, has also given a remarkable instance of Dr. Johnson's respect for Hannah More. "I shall never forget," says that amiable lady in her Recollections of the Doctor, "the exalted character he drew of his friend Mr. Langton; nor with what energy, what fond delight, he expatiated in his praise, giving him every excellence that nature could bestow, and every perfection that humanity could acquire. A literary lady was present, Miss Hannah More, who perhaps inspired him with an universal ardour to shine, which indeed he did with redoubled lustre, deserving himself the praises he bestowed."

In the same year, the Doctor being at Pembroke College, Oxford, on a visit to his old friend Dr. Adams, master of that society, Mrs. Kennicott, the widow of the learned Hebræan, recalled to his remembrance one of his lively sayings to Miss More. On her expressing a wonder that the author of Paradise Lost should write such poor sonnets, the Doctor replied, "Milton, madam, was a genius that could cut Colossus from a rock, but he could not carve heads upon cherry-stones."

In 1782, Hannah More published, with a dedication to her noble friend, the Duchess of Beaufort, a volume, containing four sacred dramas on The Finding of Moses-David and Goliath-Belshazzar-and Daniel; with a poetical epistle entitled " Sensibility," addressed to Mrs. Boscawen, and "Reflections on the Sickness of Hezekiah." This was one of the most popular of the author's works, and it has gone through numerous editions.

The venerable Mrs. Carter, in a letter written just after its appearance, says, "Miss More is in town; she has lately published some Sacred Dramas, chiefly designed for young people, which are universally and justly admired. It does my heart good to hear the manner in which they are mentioned in all companies; and one goes no where but they are mentioned. At the end of the volume there is an excellent poem on Sensibility."

The success which attended the Sacred Dramas seems to have tempted a celebrated French lady to engage in the same kind of composition. But Madame Genlis, though a woman of lively genius, was indifferently qualified for the work she undertook. The English poet, with becoming reverence to the inspired originals, scrupulously adhered to the scriptural narrative of each subject; but the French dramatist, perhaps in imitation of her countryman Racine, deviated so widely from the Divine record, that neither of her performances can with justice be called sacred. That her work, therefore, when translated into English, should speedily be consigned to obscurity, was not a matter to excite either surprise or regret.

The poem of "Sensibility," which in several editions followed the Sacred Dramas, touches in an elegant style of compliment upon the merits of the leading writers of that day; with most of whom, the author was intimately acquainted.

The "Reflections on Hezekiah," were written immediately after hearing a very solemn and affecting sermon on the same subject, preached in All Saints' Church, Bristol, by Dr. Stonhouse. These pathetic verses found their way into the Bristol Journal, from whence they were copied into some other papers; in consequence of which, the author thought it necessary to give them a place in the present volume.

Not long after this, two incidents occurred of a very remarkable nature, in which the active benevolence of our author became conspicuous in behalf of objects of a very different description. Among the intimate friends of Hannah More, none stood higher in her estimation, or enjoyed more of her confidence, than Mrs. Elizabeth Montagu. With that lady she generally spent part of the summer at Sandleford, Mrs. Montagu's country residence in Gloucestershire. It was after one of these visits, in the autumn of the year 1784, that the circumstance took place, which she has herself so admirably narrated in the following letter to Mrs. Montagu :

"On my return from Sandleford, a copy of verses was shewn me, said to be written by a poor illiterate woman in this neighbourhood, who sells milk from door to door. The story did not engage my faith, but the verses excited my attention; for, though incorrect, they breathed the genuine spirit of poetry, and were rendered still more interesting, by a certain natural and strong expression of misery, which seemed to fill the heart and mind of the author. On making diligent inquiry into her history and character, I found that she had been born and bred in her present humble station, and had never received the least education, except that her brother had taught her to write. Her mother, who was also a milk-woman, appears to have had sense and piety, and to have given an early tincture of religion

to this poor woman's mind. She is about eight-and-twenty, was married very young, to a man who is said to be honest and sober, but of a turn of mind very different from her own. Repeated losses, and a numerous family, (for they had six children in seven years,) reduced them very low, and the rigours of the last severe winter sunk them to the extremity of distress. For your sake, dear Madam, and for my own, I wish I could entirely pass over this part of her story; but some of her most affecting verses would be unintelligible without it. Her aged mother, her six little infants, and herself, (expecting every hour to lie in,) were actually on the point of perishing, and had given up every hope of human assistance, when the gentleman so gratefully mentioned in her poem to STELLA providentially heard of their distress, which I am afraid she had too carefully concealed, and hastened to their relief. The poor woman and her children were preserved; but-(imagine, dear Madam, a scene which will not bear a detail)—for the unhappy mother, all assistance came too late; she had the joy to see it arrive, but it was a joy she was no longer able to bear, and it was more fatal to her than famine had been. You will find our poetess frequently alluding to this terrible circumstance, which has left a settled impression of sorrow on her mind.

:

"When I went to see her, I observed a perfect simplicity in her manners, without the least affectation or pretension of any kind she neither attempted to raise my compassion by her distress, nor my admiration by her parts. But, on a more familiar acquaintance, I have had reason to be surprised at the justness of her taste, the faculty I least expected to find in her. In truth, her remarks on the books she has read are so accurate, and so consonant to the opinions of the best critics, that, from that very circumstance, they would appear trite and common-place in any one who had been in habits of society; for, without having ever conversed with any body above her own level, she seems to possess the general principles of sound taste and just thinking.

"I was curious to know what poetry she had read. With the Night Thoughts and Paradise Lost, I found her well acquainted; but she was astonished to learn that Young and Milton had written any thing else. Of Pope, she had only seen the Eloisa; and Dryden, Spenser, Thomson, and Prior were quite unknown to her, even by name. She has read a few of Shakspeare's plays, and speaks of a translation of the Georgics, which she has somewhere seen, with the warmest poetic rapture.

"But though it has been denied to her to drink at the pure well-head of pagan poesy, yet, from the true fountain of Divine

inspiration her mind seems to have been wonderfully nourished and enriched."

After some more general observations, the writer proceeds to characterize the poetry of ANNE YEARSLEY, for that was the name of the milk-woman :

"You will find her, like all unlettered poets, abounding in imagery, metaphor, and personification; her faults, in this respect being rather those of superfluity than of want. If her epithets are now and then bold and vehement, they are striking and original; and I should be sorry to see the wild vigour of her rustic muse polished into elegance, or laboured into correctness. Her ear is perfect; there is sometimes great felicity in the structure of her blank verse, and she often varies the pause with a happiness which looks like skill. She abounds in false concords, and inaccuracies of various kinds; the grossest of which have been corrected. You will find her often diffuse from redundancy, and oftener obscure from brevity; but you will seldom find in her those inexpiable poetic sins, the false thought, the puerile conceit, the distorted image, and the incongruous metaphor, the common resources of bad poets, and the not uncommon blemishes of good ones.

"If this commendation be thought exaggerated, qualify it, dear Madam, with the reflection that it belongs to one who writes under every complicated disadvantage; who is destitute of all the elegances of literature, the accommodation of leisure, and, I will not barely say the conveniences, but the necessaries of life to one who does not know a single rule of grammar, and who has never even seen a dictionary.'

In conclusion, the moral character of the rustic poetess is thus commended :

"I have the satisfaction to tell you, dear Madam, that our poor enthusiast is active and industrious in no common degree. The muses have not cheated her into an opinion that the retailing a few fine maxims of virtue may exempt her from the most exact probity in her conduct. I have had some unequivocal proofs that her morality has not evaporated in sentiment, but is, I verily believe, fixed in a settled principle. Without this, with all her ingenuity, as she would not have obtained my friendship, so I should not have had the courage to solicit for her your protection."

One of the periodical critics, however, very shrewdly, and, as it afterwards turned out, prophetically, ventured to suggest the propriety of exercising caution in estimating this character, till time should shew how well it was deserved. "Possibly," said the Monthly reviewer, "a sufficient trial hath not yet been made, of the real disposition of our poetess. The moral qualities of her mind can only be known, when she hath