FROM THE SAME.

Vellinus, the treacherous brother of Elidurus, having fled to the Romans, Elidurus is sentenced to die-Evelina pleads for his life.

Chorus, EVELINA, ELIDURUS, and Bard.

True, thou must die.

Chor. Elid. I pray ye then on your best mercy, fathers, It may be speedy. I would fain be dead, If this be life. Yet I must doubt even that: For falsehood of this strange stupendous sort Sets firm-eyed reason on a gaze, mistrusting, That what she sees in palpable plain form,

And that to tell Will fix much blame on my impatient folly : For, ere your hallow'd lips had given permission, I flew with eager haste to bear my father News of his son's return. Inflamed with that, Think how a sister's zealous breast must glow! Your looks give mild assent. I glow'd indeed With the dear tale, and sped me in his ear To pour the precious tidings: but my tongue Scarce named Arviragus, ere the false stranger (As I bethink me since) with stealthy pace Fled to the cavern's mouth.

Evel. Alas! he mark'd him not, for 'twas the
moment,

When he had all to ask and all to fear,
Touching my brother's valour. Hitherto
His safety only, which but little moved him,
Had reach'd his ears: but when my tongue unfolded
The story of his bravery and his peril,

Oh how the tears coursed plenteous down his cheeks!
How did he lift unto the Heavens his hands
In speechless transport! Yet he soon be thought him
Of Rome's invasion, and with fiery glance
Survey'd the cavern round; then snatch'd his spear,
And menaced to pursue the flying traitor :
But I with prayers (oh pardon, if they err'd)
Withheld his step, for to the left the youth
Had wing'd his way, where the thick underwood
Afforded sure retreat. Besides, if found,
Was age a match for youth?

Chor.
Maiden, enough:
Better perchance for us, if he were captive;
But in the justice of their cause, and Heaven,
Do Mona's sons confide.

caverns,

Are all mere tricks of cozenage, nothing real,
The vision of a vision. If he 's fled,
I ought to hate this brother.
Chor.
Yet thou dost not.
Elid. But when astonishment will give me leave,
Perchance I shall.-And yet he is my brother,
And he was virtuous once. Yes, ye vile Romans,
Yes, I must die, before my thirsty sword
Drinks one rich drop of vengeance. Yet, ye robbers,
Yet will I curse you with my dying lips :
'Twas you that stole away my brother's virtue.
Chor. Now then prepare to die.
Elid.
I am prepared.
Yet, since I cannot now (what most I wish'd)
By manly prowess guard this lovely maid;
Permit that on your holiest earth I kneel,
And pour one fervent prayer for her protection.
Allow me this, for though you think me false,
The gods will hear me.

Evel.

I can hold no longer! Oh Druid, Druid, at thy feet I fall: Yes, I must plead, (away with virgin blushes,) For such a youth must plead. I'll die to save him; Oh take my life, and let him fight for Mona.

Chor. Virgin, arise. His virtue hath redeem'd

him,

And he shall fight for thee, and for his country.
Youth, thank us with thy deeds. The time is short,
And now with reverence take our high lustration;
Thrice do we sprinkle thee with day-break dew
Shook from the may-thorn blossom; twice and
thrice

Touch we thy forehead with our holy wand:
Now thou art fully purged. Now rise restored
To virtue and to us. Hence then, my son,
Hie thee, to yonder altar, where our Bards
Shall arm thee duly both with helm and sword
For warlike enterprise.

Nay, swear not, youth.

Aul. Did.

Fled!

To the Romans fled;

Yes, thou hast cause to tremble.

Elid. Ah, Vellinus! Does thus our love, does thus our friendship end! Was I thy brother, youth, and hast thou left me! Yes; and how left me, cruel as thou art, The victim of thy crimes!

FROM THE SAME.

THE CAPTURE OF CARACTACUS.

YE bloody priests, Behold we burst on your infernal rites, And bid you pause. Instant restore our soldiers, Nor hope that superstition's ruthless step Shall wade in Roman gore. Ye savage men, Did not our laws give license to all faiths, We would o'erturn your altars, headlong heave These shapeless symbols of your barbarous gods, And let the golden sun into your caves.

Chor. Servant of Caesar, has thine impious tongue Spent the black venom of its blasphemy? It has. Then take our curses on thine head, Even his fell curses, who doth reign in Mona, Vicegerent of those gods thy pride insults.

Trust me, they shall support the weightiest load Injustice dares impose

Proud-crested soldier,

Than when thou met'st me in the fields of war

Take heed, ye seize Caractacus alive.
Arrest yon youth; load him with heaviest irons,
He shall to Cæsar answer for his crime.

Elid. I stand prepared to triumph in my crime.
Aul. Did. 'Tis well, proud boy-Look to the
beauteous maid,
[To the Soldiers.

That tranced in grief, bends o'er yon bleeding corse,
Respect her sorrows.

Evel.
Hence, ye barbarous men !
Ye shall not take him welt'ring thus in blood,
To show at Rome, what British virtue was.
Avaunt! the breathless body that ye touch
Was once Arviragus!

Aul. Did.
We reverence the dead.
Chor.

Fear us not, princess;

Would too to Heaven,

And dost thou smile, false Roman? Do not think
He fell an easy prey. Know, ere he yielded,
Thy bravest veterans bled. He too, thy spy,
The base Brigantian prince, hath seal'd his fraud
With death. Bursting through arm'd ranks, that
hemm'd

The caitiff round, the brave Caractacus
Seized his false throat; and as he gave him death
Indignant thunder'd, " Thus is my last stroke
The stroke of justice." Numbers then oppress'd
him:

I saw the slave, that cowardly behind
Pinion'd his arms; I saw the sacred sword
Writhed from his grasp : I saw, what now ye see,
Inglorious sight! those barbarous bonds upon him.

Enter CARACTACUS.

Car. Romans, methinks the malice of your tyrant Might furnish heavier chains. Old as I am, And wither'd as you see these war-worn limbs,

Has scorn still left to sparkle And frown defiance on thee.

Then I'm indeed a captive.

through these eyes,

- Is it thus ? [Seeing his son's body. Mighty gods! My soul, my soul submits: patient it bears The pond'rous load of grief ye heap upon it. Yes, it will grovel in this shatter'd breast, And be the sad tame thing, it ought to be, Coop'd in a servile body.

And if he can, gods! must a Briton bear it!
Arviragus, my bold, my breathless boy,
Thou hast escaped such pity; thou art free.
Here in high Mona shall thy noble limbs
Rest in a noble grave; posterity

Shall to thy tomb with annual reverence bring
Sepulchral stones, and pile them to the clouds ;
Whilst mine-

Aul. Did. The morn doth hasten our departure. Prepare thee, king, to go: a fav'ring gale Now swells our sails.

Car.

Inhuman, that thou art!

Dost thou deny a moment for a father
To shed a few warm tears o'er his dead son!
I tell thee, chief, this act might claim a life,
To do it duly; even a longer life,
Than sorrow ever suffer'd. Cruel man!
And thou deniest me moments. Be it so.

I know you Romans weep not for your children;
Ye triumph o'er your tears, and think it valour;
I triumph in my tears. Yes, best-loved boy,
Yes, I can weep, can fall upon thy corse,
And I can tear my hairs, these few grey hairs,
The only honours war and age hath left me.
Ah son! thou mightst have ruled o'er many nations,
As did thy royal ancestry: but I,

Rash that I was, ne'er knew the golden curb
Discretion hangs on bravery: else perchance
These men, that fasten fetters on thy father,
Had sued to him for peace, and claim'd his friend-
ship.

Aul. Did. But thou wast still implacable to Rome, And scorn'd her friendship.

Car. (starting up from the body.) Soldier, I had

arms,

Had neighing steeds to whirl my iron cats,
Had wealth, dominion. Dost thou wonder, Roman,
I fought to save them? What if Cæsar aims,
To lord it universal o'er the world,

Shall the world tamely crouch at Cæsar's footstool!

Aul. Did. Read in thy fate our answer. Thy pride had yielded

Car.

Yet if
[sooner
Thank thy gods, I did not.
Had it been so, the glory of thy master,
Like my misfortunes, had been short and trivial,
Oblivion's ready prey: now, after struggling
Nine years, and that right bravely 'gainst a tyrant,
I am his slave to treat as seems him good;
If cruelly, 'twill be an easy task

To bow a wretch, alas! how bow'd already!
Down to the dust: if well, his clemency,

When trick'd and varnish'd by your glossing pen

men,

Will shine in honour's annals, and adorn
Himself; it boots not me. Look there, look there!
The slave that shot that dart kill'd every hope
Of lost Caractacus! Arise, my daughter;
Alas! poor prince, art thou too in vile fetters?
[TO ELIDURUS.

Come hither, youth be thou to me a son,
To her a brother. Thus with trembling arms
I lead you forth; children, we go to Rome.
Weep'st thou, my girl? I prithee hoard thy tears
For the sad meeting of thy captive mother :
For we have much to tell her, much to say
Of these good men, who nurtured us in Mona;
Much of the fraud and malice, that pursued us;
Much of her son, who pour'd his precious blood
To save his sire and sister: think'st thou, maid,
Her gentleness can hear the tale, and live?
And yet she must. Oh gods, I grow a talker!
Grief and old age are ever full of words:
But I'll be mute. Adieu! ye holy men;
Yet one look more-Now lead us hence for ever.

EPITAPH ON MRS. MASON, IN THE CATHEDRAL OF BRISTOL.

TAKE, holy earth! all that my soul holds dear: Take that best gift which Heaven so lately gave: To Bristol's fount I bore with trembling care

Her faded form; she bow'd to taste the wave, And died. Does youth, does beauty, read the line? Does sympathetic fear their breasts alarm? Speak, dead Maria! breathe a strain divine:

Even from the grave thou shalt have power to charm.

Bid them be chaste, be innocent, like thee;
Bid them in duty's sphere as meekly move;
And if so fair, from vanity as free ;

As firm in friendship, and as fond in love.
Tell them, though 'tis an awful thing to die,
('Twas even to thee) yet the dread path once trod,
Heaven lifts its everlasting portals high,

And bids "the pure in heart behold their God."

AN HEROIC EPISTLE*.

TO

SIR WILLIAM CHAMBERS, KNIGHT,

COMPTROLLER-GENERAL OF HIS MAJESTY'S WORKS, AND AUTHOR OF A LATE "DISSERTATION ON ORIENTAL GARDENING"-ENRICHED WITH EXPLANATORY NOTES, CHIEFLY EXTRACTED FROM THAT ELABORATE PERFORMANCE.

1773.

KNIGHT of the Polar Star! by fortune placed
To shine the Cynosure of British taster;
Whose orb collects in one refulgent view
The scatter'd glories of Chinese virtù;
And spread their lustre in so broad a blaze,
That kings themselves are dazzled while they gaze.
O let the Muse attend thy march sublime,
And, with thy prose, caparison her rhyme ;
Teach her, like thee, to gild her splendid song,
With scenes of Yven-Ming, and sayings of Li-
Tsong+;

Like thee to scorn dame Nature's simple fence;
Leap each ha-ha of truth and common sense;
And proudly rising in her bold career,
Demand attention from the gracious ear
Of him, whom we and all the world admit,
Patron supreme of science, taste, and wit.
Does envy doubt? Witness ye chosen train,
Who breathe the sweets of his Saturnian reign;
Witness ye Hills, ye Johnsons, Scots, Sheabbeares,
Hark to my call, for some of you have ears.
Let David Hume, from the remotest north,
In see-saw sceptic scruples hint his worth;
David, who there supinely deigns to lie
The fattest hog of Epicurus' sty;
Though drunk with Gallic wine, and Gallic praise,
David shall bless Old England's halcyon days;
The mighty Home, bemired in prose so long,
Again shall stalk upon the stilts of song:
While bold Mac-Ossian, wont in ghosts to deal,
Bids candid Smollett from his coffin steal;
Bids Mallock quit his sweet Elysian rest,
Sunk in his St. John's philosophic breast,

[* Of this Epistle, which came so opportunely to the succour of native taste against the Chinese invasion, personal spleen was undoubtedly the main inspiration. Chambers had offended Mason by publishing the Dissertation so soon after his English Garden; ' and his crime, in the eyes of Walpole, was no less than using his elaborate work as a weapon to deter the king from introducing classic improvements into the gardens of Richmond.ALLAN CUNNINGHAM, Lives of British Art. vol. iv. p. 347.] Cynosure, an affected phrase. "Cynosura is the constellation of Ursa Minor, or the Lesser Bear, the next star to the pole."-Dr. Newton, on the word in Milton.

"Many trees, shrubs and flowers," sayeth Li-Tsong, a Chinese author of great antiquity, "thrive best in low, moist situations; many on hills and mountains; some require a rich soil; but others will grow on clay, in sand, or even upon rocks, and in the water: to some a sunny exposition is necessary; but for others the shade is preferable. There are plants which thrive best in exposed situations, but, in general, shelter is requisite. The skilful gardener, to whom study and experience have taught these qualities, carefully attends to them in his operations; knowing that thereon depend the health and growth of his plants, and consequently the beauty of his plantations." Vide Diss. p. 77. The reader, I presume, will readily allow, that he never met with so much recondite truth as this ancient Chinese here exhibits.

And, like old Orpheus, make some strong effort
To come from Hell, and warble Truth at Court*.
There was a time, "in Esher's peaceful grove,
When Kent and Nature vied for Pelham's love,"
That Pope beheld them with auspicious smile,
And own'd that beauty blest their mutual toil.
Mistaken bard! could such a pair design
Scenes fit to live in thy immortal line?
Hadst thou been born in this enlighten'd day,
Felt, as we feel, taste's oriental ray,

Thy satire sure had given them both a stab,
Call'd Kent a driveller, and the nymph a drab.
For what is Nature? Ring her changes round,
Her three flat notes are water, plants, and ground†;
Prolong the peal, yet, spite of all your clatter,
The tedious chime is still ground, plants and water.
So, when some John his dull invention racks,
To rival Boodle's dinners, or Almack's;
Three uncouth legs of mutton shock our eyes,
Three roasted geese, three butter'd apple-pies.
Come then, prolific Art, and with thee bring
The charms that rise from thy exhaustless spring;
To Richmond come, for see, untutor❜d Browne
Destroys those wonders which were once thy own.
Lo, from his melon-ground the peasant slave
Has rudely rush'd, and level'd Merlin's cave;
Knock'd down the waxen wizard, seized his wand,
Transform'd to lawn what late was fairy land;
And marr'd, with impious hand, each sweet design
Of Stephen Duck, and good Queen Caroline.
Haste, bid yon livelong terrace re-ascend,
Replace each vista, straighten every bend;
Shut out the Thames; shall that ignoble thing
Approach the presence of great Ocean's king?
No! let barbaric glories feast his eyes,
August pagodas round his palace rise,
And finish'd Richmond open to his view,
"A work to wonder at, perhaps a Kew."

* Vide (if it be extant) a poem under this title, for which (or for the publication of Lord Bolingbroke's philosophical writings) the person here mentioned received a considerable pension in the time of lord Bute's administration.

This is the great and fundamental axiom, on which oriental taste is founded. It is therefore expressed here with the greatest precision, and in the identical phrase of the great original. The figurative terms, and even the explanatory simile, are entirely borrowed from Sir William's Dissertation. "Nature" (says the Chinese, or Sir William for them) "affords us but few materials to work with. Plants, grounds and water, are her only productions; and though both the forms and arrangements of these may be varied to an incredible degree, yet they have but few striking varieties, the rest being of the nature of changes rung upon bells, which, though in reality different, still produce the same uniform kind of gingling; the variation being too minute to be easily perceived." "Art must therefore supply the scantiness of Nature," &c. &c. page 14. And again, "Our larger works are only a repetition of the small ones, like the honest bachelor's feast, which consisted in nothing but a multiplication of his own dinner; three legs of mutton and turnips, three roasted geese, and three buttered applepies." Preface, page 7.

+ So Milton.

Where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold.

Nor rest we here, but, at our magic call,
Monkeys shall climb our trees, and lizards crawl§;
Huge dogs of Tibet bark in yonder grove,
Here parrots prate, there cats make cruel love;
In some fair island will we turn to grass
(With the queen's leave) her elephant and ass.
Giants from Africa shall guard the glades,
Where hiss our snakes, where sport our Tartar
maids ;

Or, wanting these, from Charlotte Hayes we bring
Damsels, alike adroit to sport and sting.
Now to our lawns of dalliance and delight,
Join we the groves of horror and affright;
| This to achieve no foreign aids we try,—
Thy gibbets, Bagshot! shall our wants supply];
Hounslow, whose heath sublimer terror fills,
Shall with her gibbets lend her powder-mills.
Here too, O king of vengeance, in thy fane¶,
Tremendous Wilkes shall rattle his gold chain**;
And round that fane, on many a Tyburn tree,
Hang fragments dire of Newgate history;
On this shall Holland's dying speech be read,
Here Bute's confession, and his wooden head;
While all the minor plunderers of the age
(Too numerous far for this contracted page)
The Rigbys, Calcrafts, Dysons, Bradshaws there,
In straw-stuff'd effigy, shall kick the air.

"In their lofty woods, serpents and lizards, of many beautiful sorts, crawl upon the ground. Innumerable monkeys, cats, and parrots clamber upon the trees." Page 40. "In their lakes are many islands, some small, some large, amongst which are often seen stalking along, the elephant, the rhinoceros, the dromedary, ostrich, and the giant baboon." Page 66. "They keep in their enchanted scenes a surprising variety of monstrous birds, reptiles, and animals, which are tamed by art, and guarded by | enormous dogs of Tibet, and African giants, in the habits of magicians." Page 42. "Sometimes, in this romantic excursion, the passenger finds himself in extensive recesses, surrounded with arbours of jessamine, vine, and roses; where beauteous Tartarean damsels, in loose transparent robes that flutter in the air, present him with rich wines, &c., and invite him to taste the sweets of retirement, on Persian carpets, and beds of Camusakin down." Page 40.

"Their scenes of terror are composed of gloomy woods, &c.; gibbets, crosses, wheels, and the whole apparatus of torture are seen from the roads. Here too they conceal in cavities, on the summits of the highest mountains, foundries, lime-kilns, and glass-works, which send forth large volumes of flame, and continued columns of thick smoke, that give to these mountains the appearance of volcanoes." Page 37. "Here the passenger from time to time is surprised with repeated shocks of electrical impulse; the earth trembles under him by the power of confined air," &c. Page 39. Now to produce both these effects, viz. the appearance of volcanoes and earthquakes, we have here substituted the occasional explosion of a powder-mill, which (if there be not too much simplicity in the contrivance) it is apprehended will at once answer all the purposes of lime-kilns and electrical machines. and imitate thunder and the explosion of cannon into the bargain. Vide page 40.

"In the most dismal recesses of the woods, are temples dedicated to the king of vengeance, near which are placed pillars of stone, with pathetic descriptions of tragical events; and many acts of cruelty perpetrated there by outlaws and robbers." Page 37.

** This was written while Mr. Wilkes was sheriff of London, and when it was to be feared he would rattle his chain a year longer as lord mayor.

But say, ye powers, who come when fancy calls,
Where shall our mimic London rear her walls*?
That Eastern feature, art must next produce,
Though not for present yet for future use,
Our sons some slave of greatness may behold,
Cast in the genuine Asiatic mould:

Who of three realms shall condescend to know
No more than he can spy from Windsor's brow;
For him that blessing of a better time,
The Muse shall deal awhile in brick and lime;
Surpass the bold A▲EA&I in design,

And o'er the Thames fling one stupendous line
Of marble arches, in a bridge, that cuts+
From Richmond Ferry slant to Brentford Butts.
Brentford with London's charms will we adorn;
Brentford, the bishopric of parson Horne.
There, at one glance, the royal eye shall meet
Each varied beauty of St. James's street;
Stout Talbot there shall ply with hackney chairt,
And patriot Betty fix her fruit-shop there§.
Like distant thunder, now the coach of state
Rolls o'er the bridge, that groans beneath its weight.
The court hath crost the stream; the sports begin;
Now Noel preaches of rebellion's sin:
And as the powers of his strong pathos rise,
Lo, brazen tears fall from Sir Fletcher's eyes.

"There is likewise in the same garden, viz. YvenMing-Yven, near Pekin, a fortified town, with its ports, streets, public squares, temples, markets, shops, and tribunals of justice; in short, with everything that is at Pekin, only on a smaller scale."

"In this town the emperors of China, who are too much the slaves of their greatness to appear in public, and their women, who are excluded from it by custom, are frequently diverted with the hurry and bustle of the capital, which is there represented, several times in the year, by the eunuchs of the palace." Page 32.

† Sir William's enormous account of Chinese bridges, too long to be here inserted. Vide page 53.

"Some of these eunuchs personate porters." Page 32. §"Fruits and all sorts of refreshments are cried about the streets in this mock city."-The name of a woman who kept a fruit-shop in St. James's street.

While skulking round the pews, that babe of grace,

Who ne'er before at sermon show'd his face,
See Jemmy Twitcher shambles; stop! stop thief!¶
He's stol'n the earl of Denbigh's handkerchief.
Let Barrington arrest him in mock fury**,
And Mansfield hang the knave without a jury ††.
But hark, the voice of battle shouts from far‡‡,
The Jews and maccaronis are at war:

The Jews prevail, and, thund'ring from the stocks,
They seize, they bind, they circumcise Charles
Fox §§.

Fair Schwellenbergen smiles the sport to see,
And all the maids of honour cry Te! He !
Be these the rural pastimes that attend
Great Brunswick's leisure: these shall best unbend
His royal mind, whene'er from state withdrawn,
He treads the velvet of his Richmond lawn;
These shall prolong his Asiatic dream,
Though Europe's balance trembles on its beam.
And thou, Sir William! while thy plastic hand
Creates each wonder, which thy bard has plann'd,
While, as thy art commands, obsequious rise
Whate'er can please, or frighten, or surprise,
Oh! let that bard his knight's protection claim,
And share, like faithful Sancho,Quixote's fame¶¶.
"Neither are thieves, pickpockets, and sharpers for-
got in these festivals; that noble profession is usually
allotted to a good number of the most dexterous eunuchs."
Vide ibid.

་

**The watch seizes on the culprit." Vide ibid.

tt "He is conveyed before the judge, and sometimes severely bastinadoed." Ibid.

"Quarrels happen-battles ensue." Ibid. §§"Every liberty is permitted, there is no distinction of persons." Ibid.

This is done to divert his imperial majesty, and the ladies of his train." Vide ibid.

¶¶ [The laugh raised by these satiric rhymes in due season died quietly away; and Chambers, abandoning Chinese pagodas and Eastern bowers, confined himself to Roman architecture.-ALLAN CUNNINGHAM, Lives of Brit. Art. vol. iv. p. 250.]

lany*. In 1740, being superannuated, he left Winchester school, and having missed a presentation to *The piece which Collins contributed was entitled A Sonnet:

"When Phœbe form'd a wanton smile,
My soul! it reach'd not here:

Strange that thy peace, thou trembler, flies
Before a rising tear.

From 'midst the drops, my love is born,
That o'er those eye-lids rove:

Thus issued from a teeming wave
The fabled Queen of Love."

(Signed) DELICATULUS. [Collins's other signature was Amasius. But only one of the poems with that name in the Gentleman's Maga