in fituation; their conduct towards their mother, to whoin fo much was due, and whom they loved fo fincerely, was uniformly every thing that gratitude could dictate, and affection infpire. Her two other fons were in the army; the eldest of them a Lieutenant Colonel, now on fervice with his regiment, whofe conduct as a fon, a gentleman, and a foldier, has ever been most truly gratifying to the feelings of a mother. The youngeft fon, who with fuch a brother to excite his emulation, was advancing with credit and fuccefs in his military career, fell a fecond victim to the fatal fever at Suri

his 22d year. His mother, who was particularly attached to him, was fortunate in being fpared the mifery of knowing he had preceded her to the grave; the fad tidings not having reached England till after her decease.

Mrs. Smith's poetical works are too well known, and have been too long the admiration of the public, to require any farther illustration; the number of editions through which they have paffed, fufficiently establishes their merit. Thofe which have been published fince her decease, offer an attonishing proof of the energy of her genius, for they were all written within the last two years, while fhe was undergoing fuch bodily fuffering, and her mind was ftill harraffed with many cares. Yet none of her earlieft poems are fuperior either in tafte or imagination to thofe which comprife this vofume, and in the opinion of fome very excellent judges they even exceed any fhe had ever written.

It would fwell this article to too great a length, were we to enter into an acute examination of the various novels of this lady; that they brought on her much undeferved abufe, is not very furprising, her intellectual fuperiority was too obvious to escape the thafts of envy and malignity; and when thofe who have cenfured and calumniated her have fuffered under the fame aggreffions, we will allow them to be adequate judges of her conduct. Fortunately the idle remarks of the stupid, the unfeeling, or the envious, either arc, or will be forgotten, while the brilliancy of Mrs. Smith's genius will fhine with undiminished luftre, as long as the Englith language exifts. Of her profe works, her School-books are amongst the most admirable which have been written for the ufe of young perfons, and are eminently calculated to form the taste, instruct the mind, and correct the heart.

VOLTAIRE'S LITERARY CON-
FESSIONS.

[The Soirées de Ferney, printed at Paris in

1802, has not received an English drefs. It appears to be the work of fome French Bofwell, who has been as fuccefsful in exhibiting Voltaire in converfation with his friends, as our Bofwell has been, in the fame refpect, with regard to his friend Johnfon.

From this publication, which may be called

Voltaire's Table Talk, have been selected fuch articles as cannot fail to be interefting to our readers.]

ONSIEUR de Voltaire had for

M fome time enjoyed a perfect flate

of health; he appeared to be entirely free-from complaint, and, with his bodily ftrength, he had recovered his ufual tranquillity and peace of mind. His friends were no longer under the neceffity, in order to raise his fpirits, of launching out into praifes of his literary works in his prefence. It was fome months fince he had been obferved to fhed tears. The happiness he felt seemed to be communicated to all about him. Ferney was become the feat of every kind of amusement: entertainments fucceeded each other without intermiffion; no foreigner of diftinction paffed the place without paying a vifit to Voltaire; dramatic pieces were performed in the theatre; and Voltaire's niece, Madame Denys, inftructed the young folks of the Pays de Gex in the art of declaination. After a dinner, to which a numerous company had been invited, whilft every one was in the higheft fpirits, Voltaire addreffed his guefts in the following manner:

My worthy friends, to fhew you the confidence I repofe in you, and to give you a perfect idea of the frankness of my difpofition, I will make my Literary Confeflions in prefence of all who are now here. I do declare, it is my intention to acknowledge faults of whatever nature they may be. I fhall restrict my confeflions to my literary labours, because it is on them my reputation is founded; and because it is through them I have raised fuch a hoft of enemies. Religious people will tell you, my works have done much harm, that they have led many fouls aftray from the paths of godliness, and have ftabbed religion in its very vitals. My works have been translated into every language; they have been read, they have been imitated, and are quoted by people of every country. Sometime fince an ex-jefuit wrote me

thefe

thefe words; no doubt he thought to flatter me: "Sir, (faid he,) your works will remain to all future times the ftandard of tafte, of philofophy, of obfcenity, and of blafphemy." It is pretty certain, that if my writings had been as little known as thofe of the reverend Father Hayer, or the advocate M. Soret, I could not have corrupted all mankind. I ought now to inform you, that I thall not contine myfelf to the order of events. I have forgotten dates, and 1 had always an infuperable averfion to chronological difcuffions. I fhall endeavour to be concife, plain, and exact; but being unaccufioined to adapt my style ftrictly to the occation, I may chance to fly out into profanenets of exprellion. The impetuofity of my imagination will fometimes hurry me away, in fpite of all my efforts to refitt it.

A Friend My good Sir, do not fuffer yourself to be tied down to rules and regulations. All will be well, provided you are, as you promife us to be, interefting, ingenuous, and impartial.

Voltaire. Well then, to make a beginning. I must premife, my friends, that a fpirit of independence was a very early paflion with me, as was a taste or turn for poetry. At the age of ten years I compofed fome very pretty little picces in verie; I could repeat the best pieces of Corneille, and had all La Fontaine's tales by heart. I was fent to college, where I made a rapid progrefs in feveral branches of knowledge. My fonduefs for philofophy difcovered itself very early; I openly ridiculed many of the tenets of religion, and in fome of my boyish productions had made a difplay of what was then deemed impiety. One of the profelfors came up to me one day, and feizing me by the collar in an emotion of zealous rage, cried out, in a prophetic train, "You little fcoundrel! you will be certainly at the head of the freethinkers:" I hailed the prophecy; for it Battered my vanity not a little; and I think I have fulfilled it.

My firft work after I left college was an ode, which I wrote with a reliance that it would obtain the French Academy's prize. It was a good one; and for that reafon, I fuppofe, was not crowned with the fuccefs I looked for. I followed it with an epigram, in which the French Acarlem was expofed to ridicule. I was difgufted with the Academy, and refolved to have no connexion with it. I rather gave too much into fatire, and I nay fay, without flattering myfelf, that I

had merit in that kind of compofition About this time iny Epistle to Urania was published: the publication of it was, however, unknown to me. In this performance is allowed to be an excellent colouring, great harmony, and correctnefs; with foine fire, but too much boldness. I had put the name of the Abbé Chaulieu to it; but I honestly confets I thould have been very forry if any one had thought that he wrote it. You have, undoubtedly, read my fatirical poem upon Fleuri's Ecclefiaftical History. Whatever people may fay, this writer is neither philofopher nor painter. His work is cramined with miracles and puerilities; his hiftory of Conftantine is an enigma which I could never make out, any more that I could comprehend an infinite number of other relations in that hiftory. I could never reconcile the extraordinary praifes which this author, who is always very moderate and jutt, has lavished on a prince whole whole life is made up of vices. Murderer of his wife and his wife's father; wholly refigned to effeminate pleasures, with a paffion for pomp and fhew; fufpicious, fuperftitious;-fuch is his character in the light it appears to me. The story of his wife Faufta and his fon Crifpus, would be an excellent fubject for tragedy; but it would be another tragedy of Phædra under different names. His conteft with Maximianus Herculius, and his exceffive ingratitude to him, has furnished Thomas Corneille with the fubject of a tragedy; and Thomas has modelled it in his own manner. Faufta is introduced in this piece betwixt her husband and father, and fome tender fcenes are worked up. The plot is very intricate; it is written in the tafte of Camma and Timocrates. It had good fuccefs when it was first produced, but it is now forgotten; as are almost all the pieces of Thomas Corneille. This will always be the cafe when the plot is too much perplexed; because in fuch pieces the pallions have not room to difplay themselves: befides, Corneille's verfes are weak; and, in fhort, his plays want that energy which can only hand down any performance whatever, whether it be in profe or verfe, to pofterity.

Mad. Denys.-My dear uncle, permit me to obferve to you, that you have run away from the fubject of your dif courfe.

Volt. Very right, niece. At my age digrellions are rather more pardonable than starts of pallion. But let me go on with my confellions; and let me strive to

be

be more humble and modeft, if it is poffible for me to be fo. I had hitherto fuck to my plebeian name of Arouct; I now took one that founded better, and I obtained at length the court diftinctions of gentleman in ordinary, with the honour of chumberlain. Shall I, my good friends, relate to you the particulars of a trick I played a Jew very innocently. I have only a confufed recollection of it at this time-and, indeed, I am unwilling to trouble you with trifling mat

ters.

Friend. Say nothing about it, Sir; but proceed to give us the more ftriking parts of your confefiions, and that in the manner according to which you have written your hiftory.

Volt. Be it fo then, my worthy friends; I will be inftructed by you. But, pray now, excufe fome occational digreffions, efpecially from fuch a kind of off-hand literary confettion as I am about to make to you. I was eighteen years of age; my name was already known, and my plans were extentive. My Edipus had been acted, was well received, and I was confidered another Racine. I was introduced at court, I was loaded with penfions: it was not poffible for me to keep within the bounds of modefty. La Mothe, who had reafon to complain of me, forgot his refentment, and wrote in favour of my piece. Crébillon, who was inclined to be jealous, faw only in me a fuccessful rival. Fontenelle, the father of literature, gave me a leton of advice: he fent me word that my tragedy had too much fire in it, and I returned for anfwer, that I would read his pattorals in order to damp it.

Friend.-Will you favour the company with an analytis of the tragedy of Edipus, that piece which you produced at fo early an age?

Volt. With pleafure, my frien; but it fhall be at another time. You may well fuppofe, it will be no thort bulinefs. It is fufficient to tell you now, that I ufe Sophocles with freedom, and do juftice to inyfelf. He is far from having brought tragedy to that degree of perfection it is thought he has. What is your opinion? are we unjuft in this age, when we refufe him our entire admiration? What are we to think of a poet who can devife no other means of making us acquainted with the characters of his drama, than by putting words like thefe into the mouth of the chief of them-"I am that (Edipus fo renowned in ftory;" whilst another tells us, he is the high

prieft of Jupiter! What dearth of invention! what ftupidity! How is it poffible, for a moment, to mistake and call this a noble fimplicity? Further; let us own the truth: is it poffible or likely that (Edipus, after reigning fo long a time as he did, thould be unacquainted with the particulars of the affaffination of Lajus, who was his predeceffor on the throne, and that he fhould not know whether it was on a plain or in a town? This ignorance was no more than pretence. Be it fo: but he does not tell us why he pretended ignorance. I want a term to exprefs my idea of fuch ab. furdity.

Friend-But it may be urged in excufe, that this is a defect of the ftory itself; and not any fault of the author of the tragedy.

Folt-Mercy on us! what an excuse is this! Have it your own way thou: fay the flory is defective. But is not an author to turn and fathion his fubject as belt fuits his own defign? is he not to amend and fupply whatever is wanting or delicient? I guess how you will reply; and I am fenfible that I am not clear of the fame charge, if brought against me. I will be as feverely juft in my own caufe, and will thow myfed no more favour than I have done Sophocles; and I thall hope that the fincerity with which I acknowledge my own faults, will juftify me fully in the boldness with which I have taken upon me to bring this charge againfi an ancient tragic poet

But here am I running into another digreffion! It is your fault this time, friend. Obferve, whenever my digrelfions are occationed by yourfelves, I imve no pardon to folicit.

The fuccefs of my own (Edipus had turned my brain: I was refolved to make tal of another tragedy. I believe it was in the year 1720, that I brought my Artemia on the stage at Paris. I had intro luced a young actrefs who was new to the theatre, and who was fuppofed to be my mittrefs. Catcalls were then in fe at the theatres. The firft act was faluted by catcalls, and the performers were difconcerted with the none. I was prefent; and you may fuppofe, my friends, I was not in a little agitation. The noifes were tremendous; huffes, groans, catcalls, refounded from every part of the theatre. I was near running mad, I foamed with rage. I was many times induced to fally into the pit, fward in hand; at length I came to the more prudent refolution of leaping on the flage

from the boxes, and addreffing the audience. I waved my hand to obtain filence, but the clamour still continued. At length the author of CEdipus was recornized, and filence was obtained. I reprefented the claim to fome indulgence, which a new piece and a young author had a right to make; and, without difcovering any marks of refentiment, I offered fuch other arguments in my favour as occurred to me. In fhort, I obtained applaufe by my fpeech, and my piece was fuffered to be reprefented without further interruption: but I withdrew my tragedy in difguft. I have been always furprifed that it did not fucceed better on the ftage, for it is a good piece. The critics allow the plot to be well conducted, and the catastrophe, or concluon, to be very natural. It is true they found fault with the verification, as being too much of the epic kind; but on my word, as well as I can judge at this diftance of time, I think it before my Tancred.

To drive away all thoughts of this mortification, I inade a journey to Holland. There, by way of relaxation, I paid my addreffes to one of the daughters of the fainous Madame Dunoyer. I met with obitacles ( was not able to furmount; and cane off with little credit. Between ourselves, my friends, I was never able to play the part of a lover glory was my miftrefs. Agreeable to the refolution I had formed of palling on and making fome flay at Bruffels, I repaired to that city. There I joined inyfelf to Rouffeau*, whom I had wished to fee for a long time. Though he had been banithed upwards of ten years, I confidered hit only as a great poet, and the man of misfortune. So great was my confidence in him, that I left my poem of the Heuriad in his poffellion for five days. During one of our walks, he read me his Ode to Pofterity, and the Judgment of Pluto. This lafl was a virulent fatire against the parliament of Paris: he alked my opinion of it. This is not our mafter's, the good and great Rolleau," faid I. The felf-love of the old maker of verfes was offended with my freedoin. "Master of mine," continued I," take your revenge: here is a Litle poem which I fubmit to the correction and judgment of the father of

This is not Jean Jaques Rouffeau, the celebrated citizen of Ceneva; but a French man, who is distinguished by the nane of the Post Rouffeau-Tranflater.

Numa." I began to read, and Rouffeau interrupted me with, "Hold, Sir, read no further; this impiety is fhocking." I put the poem again into my pocket, and faid, “Come, let us go to the play; I am forry the author of the Moïlade has not yet informed the public that he was grown devout." When the comedy was over, I refumed the fubject of his Ode to Pofterity, and told him in a farcaftie way, Do you know, mafter, that I think your ode will never reach those you design it for."

Mad. Denys. Thus, my dear uncle, an interview of friendship and confidence was clofed by an open rupture.

Tolt.-1 grant it, niece; but the fault was not maine, and I leave you all to judge whether it was fo or not.

Friend.-Will you give me leave to tell you my thoughts of the matter? I am of opinion that Rouffeau had for a long time before harboured a fecret jealoufy of you, and I believe the fuccefs of your Mariamue was the real cause of his animosity. Rouffeam had compofed a Mariamie, after au old piece of Tristan: it was very defervedly fled, and your tragedy was reprefented forty times."

Volt. The mifchief had an carlier rife than that you mention. About the end of the year 1711, as well as I can recollect, Saurin, whom Rouleau accused of being the author of the famous Couplets, was cleared by the fentence of the Châtelet, and was allowed to proceed criminally against the Sicur Rouffeau and his witneffes. A female fervant in my father's houfe was interested in the caufe. She was, in fast, the mother of that poor wretch, a journeyman thoemaker, whofe evidence Rouffeau fuborned. This woman, fuppofing her fon would be hanged for perjury, was conftantly making her lamentations and complaints till the exhausted our patience. "Comfort yourself, good woman." faid I to her, you have nothing to fear: Rouffeau, a fhoemaker's fun, fuborns your fon, a cobler, who you fay is the accomplice of a hoeblack; when your fon ghes to be tried for the perjury, throw an old fhoe after him for luck, and all will go well." This pleasantry was repeated in the neighbourhood, and told by one goody gollip to another, till it reached the ears of Rouffeuu limfelf, who ne er forgave me for it. But what excited his refeutment fill more was, that I endeavoured to convince him of the impolicy of his alle govical poem, which he had written, called the Judgment of Pluto. I told

THE CURFEW."

WRITTEN BY MR. PRATT, IMMEDIATELY

Where Whim, not Wit, where Trick, not Taste difport;

TATION OF THAT ADMIRABLE PRO-
DUCTION.

OELEST by Nature, arm'd with every art,
To woo, command, or agonize the heart!
Thou who haft proudly dar'd to lift thy page
Above the mockery that infults the stage;
To fpurn the ribbald jeft, the fenfe to raise
High o'er thofe motley mifnomers called plays,
Drolls and buffooneries, which, act by act,
All thought confound, and memory distract;
Thou, who haft fkill the paffions to controul,
Or bid them awe and footh the ductile foul;
How do the fofteft feelings own thy fway!
How do the fterneft tremble and obey!
How does thy full-plum'd pinion, born to
tower,

Of force fublime, and confcious of its power,
Leave the weak wing, that impotently tries
To gain, O Genius! thy unclouded skies!

Ah! loft too foon, ere time had lent its aid, To fix the fubftance and difpel the shade; To mark, high-favour'd youth! the bounty given,

-Spark of the God, a lambent flame of

heav'n

The potent magic of thy fun-bright strain, From the thin vapours of the misty brainThe exhalations of the low-born mind, From duft proceeding and to duft confign'd!

What tho', to emulate each future bard,
His bright example, as his best reward,
Part of thy facred mantle caught his eye,
Ere yet thy spirit fought its native fky;
And ev'ry colour "dipt in heaven" confeft
The genuine Mufe alone could form the vest;
And none but her true fons prefume to wear,
For naught but Genius to the Mufe is dear.

Yet ah! the Drama's rabble-rout again,
Thalia-Columbine, and all her train
Of Tragi-Comic, Farfic, Pantomime,
Scorn of the Muse and error of the time,

near,

Nature shall hail it with her smile and tear: All booth-born jefts to Smithfield's fcenes res fign'd,

By Truth up-born fhall mummery leave be hind;

When mental manhood fhall again afpire,
Aud catch from flame thine electric fire!
Then fhall the Drama re-affume its pride,
And Wifdom spread her facred influence wide,
Then fhall the race ephemeral be v'er,
To "trut their hour upon the stage" no more:
The genuine bards their future fate fhall tell.
Bards, fuch as thee and Colman, toll their
knell.

Whofe voice in the thunder is heard, If ever from inan, the poor indigent worm, The prayer of affliction was heard ;