wife, who was always ready to afford her charity to her neighbours, according to the little skill the had in furgery, to do fomething for him. She acquainted her husband with it, and he told her that the fhould now fee whether this was a mere fancy, or the dictates of the Spirit of God in his heart; and laying his hands on the places affected, he prayed to God, for Jefus fake, to heal him, and bade the parent bring the child again in two or three days. When he returned, the eye was almoft quite healed, the node, which was nearly as big as a pullet's egg, being fuppurated, and the throat ftrangely amended; fo that in a month's time he was perfectly cured. There then came to him one Margaret Machane, of Ballinefly, in the parish of Lifmore, who had the evil upwards of seven years, far worfe than the former, whom he cured, to the amazement of all, and his fame now encreafing, he cured the fame difeafe in many others, all by ftroaking with his hands; and fome troubled with agues he cured in the fame manner. .. Afterwards he had the like impulfe that he could heal all kinds of difcafes; and a few days after, going to one Mr. Dean's, at Lifmore, there came into the house a poor man who had a pain in his loins and flank, went almoft double, and had five ulcers in his leg, who begging his affiftance, he put his hands on the man's loins and flank, and immediately ftroaked the pain out of him, fo that he could ftand upright. He then put his hands on the ulcerous leg, which inftantly changed colour from black, and became red; three of the five ulcers clofed up, and the reft within a few hours after: fo that he went out well and in two days afterwards fell to work at his trade, which was that of a mafon. After this Mr. Greatrakes cured many diseases of all kinds by firoaking. In the mean time, as he pretended to have fome extraordinary affiftance from the Holy Ghoft in performing thefe cures, he was cited before the bishop's court, and forbade to proceed any farther; upon which he went to England, where Edward, lord Conway, took him to his feat at Ragley, in Warwickshire, to try the force of his firoaking faculty upon his lady, who had for many years laboured under a moft violent head-ach; but here the obftinacy of the diforder baffled his utmost endeavours, yet continuing there three weeks, he cured innumerable people, when Dr. Henry Stubbe, who practifed phyfic at Stratford upon Avon, and was daily at Ragley, and an eye-witnefs of the cures, published a piece, intitled "The Miraculous Conformist, or an Account of several marvellous Cures performed by the ftroaking of the hands of Mr. Valentine Greatrakes." This gentleman foon after received the royal commands to wait upon his majesty at Whitehall, where he performed feveral cures, as he did alfo in and about London. But he was not always fuccefsful; for being employed by one Mr. Creffet, in Charter-house-square, his froaking had a very bad effect, upon which was publifhed "Wonders no Miracles, or Mr. Valentine Greatrakes' Gift of Healing examined," which was foon followed by another pamphlet, intitled “A brief Account of Mr. Valentine Greatrakes, and divers ftrange Cures by him lately performed, &c." to which were annexed the teftimonies of several eminent and worthy perfons, of the chief matters of fact therein related; and the whole was drawn up in the form of a letter, to the honourable Robert Boyle, Efq; who was a patron of our ftroaker, as was alfo Dr. Henry More, and feveral other members of the Royal Society, before whom Mr. Greatrakes was examined. Dr. More afcribed the cures to an extraordinary refined and purified state of the blood in Greatrakes, whence he thought might iffue a fanative, as well as there did a malignant contagion in a contrary ftate; others fuppofed they were wrought by the force of imagination in his patients, and fome imagined them mere fictions. However, it is certain that the great Mr. Boyle believed him to be an extraordinary perfon, and attested many of his cures. He had the character of being a gentleman of great piety and humanity; however, he was a kind of prodigy that furprized and puzzled not only the ignorant, but the learned. frictions; yet, it is no lefs true that many among them owe their misfortunes to the careless and unguarded conduct of their parents or guardians. This is particularly remarkable in regard to young women, and the truth of it is well exemplified in the following hiftory. Mifs Lucy Langley, was the daughter of a gentleman of fome confideration in Hertfordshire, who dying, left her, at the age of nine years, together with a fortune of 5,000l. to the care of a brother and fifter of his, who had always expreffed the greatest affection for her. The genteel education which Mr. Langley had begun to give his daughter, they had refolved to complete; and as they refided in London, they agreed to fend her to a boarding school within two or three miles of the metropolis for this purpose. Boarding schools, when properly conducted have certainly their ufe, and much might be faid in their favour; but, where a neglect of duty prevails among the heads of them, they prove certainly the moft pernicious inftitutions upon earth. The latter was the cafe with that, where Lucy was placed. It may feem strange, that her uncle and aunt, both fo nearly allied to her father, did not find out this circumftance; but thofe who read this little ftory, need only refer to their own common experience in life for a proof, how eafily Characters of public places are obtained, and how much they are dependent on intereft, and even on fashion, rather than on real merit. va Lucy's aunt dying, fhe was taken from the boarding school at eighteen (where the had learned little elfe than nity and coquetry) and brought home to her uncle's houfe, who being a weak good natured man, and peculiarly fond of her, thought fhe had the accomplishments of an angel; and the girl having fenfe enough to perceive the afcendancy he had over him, improved it in fuch a manner, that fhe foon found she had little to do to mind him, and that her own will was the only rule by which he needed to model her actions. When the most fenfible and accomplished female of eighteen has once found out a fecret of this kind, and befides is furrounded with admirers, it it not eafy to answer for the regularity of her con July, 1774. duct.-Lucy had too much of natural and acquired vanity for any one to expect her to be very prudent. For a long time, fhe fluctuated between a crowd of lovers; now one, now the other, engaged her attention. At length, Mr. Barton, the fon of a capital merchant trading to the Weft-Indies, diftinguifhed himself in fuch a manner by his affiduities, that he could not but attract her notice; nay, he flattered himfelf, that he had actually gained a place in her affections. Indeed, neither she nor any woman could refufe him her esteem, he was fo manly, virtuous, and affectionate; but Mifs Langley, however fhe might approve thefe good qualities, thought him too grave, and even too fond; ihe, therefore determined to laugh at him, and lead him on with vain hopes; because he was a lover, to torment him; and to make a fool of him, because he was a man of fenfe. One of his turn eafily took fuch treatment to heart, and after having played off many female arts againft him, fhe loft him for a profeffed lover, though as a tender friend, he ftill continued to watch over her actions. Before he broke off with her, a new fuitor who made a great fhow, had been admited to pay his addreffes to her. He was known by the name of Belladine, he dreffed in the height of the mode, kept a flaming equipage, and had a train of fervants in the richest liveries. He faid, he was lately come from France-he courted his mistress with a true French vivacity and freedom; if the repulfed him. he was one minute dying at her feet, the next confoling himself with a chanfonette he called her a coquet, yet he vowed her coquetry became her, and he would not have her be otherwife for the world; he praised all her foibles, yet he plainly told her he meant to make an advantage of them, and swore it was a-la-mode to have a hundred admirers, at the fame time that he confidently afferted, he was fure he should bear her off from them all. a confiderable amount, and marriage articles were drawn, by which Belladine fettled upon his spouse a very hand fome fum. The nuptials were celebrated, and the new Mrs. Belladine thought herfelf the happiest of women. But the fcene foon changed, as foon as her hufband got poffeffion of her fortune, which he found means to do by his cunning, he began to cool in his affections; he was no more the gay, the complaifant frenchified lover, he became the downright fullen husband-Every thing that had before charmed him in his Lucy, now grew difgufting; he found a thoufand faults with her gaiety; he gave her to understand, that it was not in his opinion innocent; he abridged her of all diverfions, and the converfe of her friends, and on her remonftrating against thefe proceedings, even threatened to lock her up-It foon appeared, that a feparation was the only confolation that remained, which the lady was more inclined to folicit, as fie thought herself affured of a handfome fettlement. When this matter was propofed, Mr. Belladine feemed ready enough to confent to it; but when it came to be executed, a flaw appeared in the deed of fettlement, which had purposely been made in it by Belladine's lawyer, by which his wife remained at his mercy: with much perfuafion he, however, agreed to allow her 30l. per annum; but of this, he never made more than one quarterly payment, after which he fet off for the Continent with the remains of the fortune he had received with Lucy, which he fquandered there in a courfe of diffipation and debauchery that put an end to his life. After his departure, it appeared, that he was a harper that had been affifted by fome of his companions with every thing neceffary for carrying on this plot, for which they were handfomely rewarded When certain tidings of his death arrived, Mr. Barton, who ftill retained his regard for Lucy, offered again to addrefs her, and his offers would have been accepted most chearfully, but that the object of them was in no condition to receive them. The melancholy which she had contracted in confequence of her husband's conduct, had thrown her into a deep decline, which operated fo fpeedily, that she was now almoft upon the verge of life. She confeffed the intended favour, and now firft acknowledged the HE numberless improprieties forced Tupon the Grecian dramatic poets, by the conflitution of their drama, are of themselves a fufficient reafon, one would think, for preferring that of the moderns, even without the improvements propofed. To prepare the reader for this article, it must be premifed, that, as in the antient drama, the place of action never varies, a place must neceffarily be chofen, to which every person of the piece may have accefs, without any improbability. This confines the scene to fome open place, generally the court or area before a palace; by which means all tranfactions within doors, are excluded from the Grecian theatre, though these are commonly the most important. Such cruel restraint is of itself sufficient to cramp the most fertile invention; and accordingly the Grecian writers, in order to preferve unity and place, are reduced to woful improprieties. In the Hyppolytus of Euripides, a&t I. fcene 6. Phedra, distreffed in mind and body, is carried, without any pretext from her palace, to the scene of action; is there laid upon a couch, and made to utter many things improper to be heard by a number of women, who form the chorus. What is ftill worse, her female attendant ufes the strongest intreaties to make her reveal the fecret caufe of her anguish; which at last, Phedra, contrary to decency and probability, is prevailed upon to do in the fight of this very chorus. In the Alceftes of Euripides, act II. fe ne 1, Alceftes, at the point of death, is brought from the place of action, groaning and lamenting her untimely fate; and, in the Trochiniens of Sophocles, act II. a fecret is imparted to Dejanira, the wife of Hercules, in prefence of the chorus. In the tragedy of Iphigenia, the meffenger employed to carry Clitemneftra the news of Iphigenia being facrificed, ftops fort at the place of action, and with a loud voice, calls the queen from her palace to hear the news. Again, in the Iphigenia in Tauris, the neceffary prefence of the chorus, forces Euripides, into a grofs abfurdity; which i, to form a fecret plot, in their hearing; and, to difguife the abfurdity, much flattery is bestowed on the chorus, not one woman, but a number, to engage them to fecrefy. In the Medea of Euripides, that princefs makes no difficulty, in the prefence of the chorus, to plot the death of her husband, of his miftrefs, and of her father, the king of Corinth, all by poiton. It was neceffary to bring Medea upon the stage, and there is but one place of action, which is always occupied by the chorus. This fcene clofes the fecond act, and, in the end of the third, the frankly makes the chorus her confidants, in plotting the murder of her own children. Terence, by identity of place, is often forced to make a converfation within doors, be heard in the open fireet: the cries of a woman in labour, are there heard diftinctly. The Grecian poets are not more happy with refpect to the unity of time, than that of place. In the Hyppolitus of Euripides, that prince is banithed at the end of the fourth act; and, in the firft fcene of the fifth, a meffenger relates to Thefus the whole particulars of the death of Hyppolitus by a number of monsters. Efay on Tragedy. "PLEAS ་་ LEASURE and pain," fays Fontenelle, though fo very different in themselves, differ not fo much in their caufe. From the inftance of tickling it appears, that the movement of pleasure, pufhed a little too far, becomes pain; and that the movement of pain, a little moderated becomes pleasure. Hence it appears, that there is a kind of forrow, foft, and agreeable: it is a pain weakened, and diminished. The heart likes naturally to be moved and affected: melancholy objects fuit it, nay even difafterous and forrowful ones, provided they are foftened by fome circumflances. It is certain, that on the theatre; the representation, has almoft the effect of reality; yet it has not altogether that effect. However, we may be hurried away by the fpectacle; whatever dominion the fenfes and imagination may ufurp over the reason, there ftill lurks at the bottom, a certain idea of falfhood, in the whole of what we fee. This idea, though weak and difguifed, fuffices to diminifh the pain, which we suffer from the misfortunes of those we love, and to reduce that afflicton, so much as to convert it into a pleasure. We weep for the misfortunes of a hero, to whom we are attached; but, at the fame time, we comfort ourselves by reflecting that it is nothing but a fiction: and it is precifely that mixture of fentiments, which compofes an agreeable forrow, and those tears, that delight us. But, as that affiction which is caused by exterior and fenfible objects is ftronger than the confolation which arifes from internal reflections, they are the objects and fymptoms of forrow, which ought to prevail in the compofition." This folution, feems juft and convincing; but perhaps it ftill wants fome addition, to make it anfwer fully the phenomenon, which we here examine. All the paffions excited by eloquence, are agreeable in the highest degree, as well as thofe which are moved by painting, and the theatre. The Orations of Cicero, are therefore the delight of every reader of tafte; and it is difficult to read fome of them, without the deepeft fympathy and forrow. His merit as an orator, no doubt depended much upon his fuccefs in this particular; when he had raised tears in the judges, and all his audience, they were then moft highly delighted, and expreffed the greatest fatisfaction with the pleader. The pathetic defcription of the butchery made by Verres, of the Sicilian captains; is a ma!ter-piece of this kind: but, I believe, none will affirm, that being prefent at a melancholy fcene of that nature, would afford any entertainment; neither is the forrow here foftened by fiction: for the audience were convinced of the reality of every circumftance. What is it then, which in this cafe, raifes a pleafure from the bofom of unealinefs, (fo to speak) and a pleasure ..hich ftill retains all the features, and outward fymptoms of difirefs and forrow I answer, this extraordinary effect, proceeds from that very eloquence with which the melancholy fcene is reprefent Ccc 2 ed. 386 A Dialogue in the Shades between Alexander and Phrine. July, ed. The genius required to paint objects in a lively manner; the art employed in collecting all the pathetic circumftances, the judgment difplayed in difpofing them; the exercife I fay, of thofe noble talents, together with the force of expreffion, and beauty of oratorial numbers, diffufe the highest fatisfaction on the audience, and excite the moft delightful movements. By thefe means, the unea finefs of the melancholy paffion, is not only overpowered and effaced by fomething ftronger of an oppofite kind, but the whole melancholy movement is converted into pleasure, and fwells the delight, which the eloquence raises in us. The fame force of oratory, employed on a difinterefting fubject, would not please half fo much, or rather, would appear altogether ridiculous; and the mind, being left in absolute calmness and indifference, would relish none of those beauties of imagination or expreffion, which, if joined to paffion, would give it fuch exquifite entertainment. The impulfe or vehemence arifing from forrow, compaffion, and indignation, receives a new direction from the fentiments of beauty. The latter being the pre-dominant emotion, feize the whole mind, and convert the former into themselves; or, at least, tincture them fo ftrongly, as totally to alter their nature and the foul being, at the fame time, roufed by paffion, and charmed by eloquence, feels on the whole, a ftrong movement, which is altogether delightful. The fame principle takes place in tragedy; with this addition, that tragedy is an imitation, and imitation is always of itself agreeable. This circumftance, ferves ftill farther to smooth the motions of paffion, and convert the whole feeling into one uniform and ftrong enjoyment. A Dialogue between Alexander the Great and Phrine the Courtezan, in the Shades. A Phrine. SK any of the Thebans, who lived in my time, if I did not offer to rebuild, at my own expence, the walls of their city, which you demolished, on condition that they would place this infcription on them: "Alexander the Great demolished these walls, but Phrine the Courtezan rebuilt them. Alexander. It seems you were mightily anxious, tha: poterity fhould know what trade you followed. Phrine.] Let my trade anfwer for itfelf, I excelled in it; and great perfons, you know, of all profeffions, have the folly of loving monumental infcriptions. Alexander.] It is true, Rhodope had difcovered the fame vanity before you : fhe made fo fine a market of her beauty, as to be able to build one of the famous Egyptian pyramids, which ftands to this hour. I remember the was talking of it the other day to fome English girls, who thought themselves over-topped by nobody; but the poor things cried heartily, to think that in their age and country the votaries of Venus could raise no fuch pyramidical fortunes. Phrine.] But I had the advantage of Rhodope; for, in rebuilding the walls of Thebes, I put myself on a level with you, the greatest conqueror in the world, and I made it appear, that my beauty could repair the havock that was made by your valour. Alexander.] Was ever fuch a comparifon heard of-So you are mightily fatisfied then, that you had fo many gallants? Phrine.] And you are no lefs proud that you made a defart of the best part of the earth. How finely you had been ferved, if every city which you destroyed had found a Phrine to rebuild it!Not a mark of your fury had been left. Alexander.] Were I to live again, I fhould be the fame great conqueror I was. Phrine.] And I the fame lovely conqueror. Beauty has a natural right to govern mankind; valour has no more than it gains by force. The charms of fine women are found in all countries, fo are not kings nor conquerors. But to convince you further, your father Philip, you will allow, was valiant enough, and you were fo, I think, with a vengeance; yet, with all your courage, neither of you could frighten Demofthenes, the orator, who did nothing but rail, and thunder eloquence against you both as long as he lived. But there was another Phrine-for mine, let me tell you, is a lucky name-who would have loft a caufe of great confequence, if her counfel (having exhaufted his eloquence in her behalf in vain) had not whisper |