Alas! he hears not now, nor sees my sorrows! A fruitless zeal, yet all I now can show;
Yet will I mourn for thee, thou gallant youth! Tears vainly flow for errors learn'd too late,
As for a son-so let me call thee now. When timely caution should prevent our fate.
Amuch-wrong'd friend, and an unhappy hero!

[Exeunt.

A NATIVE of Ireland, and for some time one of the most successful writers for the stage. He was probably born about the year 1755, having been appointed one of the pages of Lord Chesterfield, when he was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, in 1746. He was once an officer of marines, but left the service with circumstances which do not reflect credit en him as a man. These circumstances not attacking the reputation of his writings, our readers will assist us in covering them with the charitable veil of oblivion; and we shall stand excused in the eyes of the feeling world for declining to concinde his Biography.

THE HYPOCRITE,

COMEDY by Isaac Bickerstaff. Acted at Drury Lane 1768. The general plot of this comedy is borrowed from the Tartuffe of Molière, and the principal character in it, viz. that of Doctor Cantwell, is a close copy from that great eriginal. The conduct of the piece, however, is so greatly altered as to render it perfectly English, and the coquet Charlotte is truly original and most elegantly spirited. The author has strongly pointed out the mischiefs and ruin which were frequently brought into the most noble and valuable families by the self-interested machinations of those skulking and pernicious vipers, those wolves in sheep's clothing, who at the troublesome and unsettled period in which this piece was first written, (by Cibber 1718) covering their private views beneath the mask of public zeal and sanctity, ected the part of the great serpent of old, first tempting to sin, and then betraying to punishment. It is an alteration of Cibber's Nonjuror. Scarcely any thing more than the character of Mawworm was written by the present author, who introduced it for the sake of Weston's comic talents. Few plays have had the advantage of better acting, and, in consequence, few had a greater share of success. It is one of the most valuable characteristics of this play, that while it severely satirizes hypocrisy, fanatism (as in Mawworm), and outrageous pretensions to sanctity, it carefully distinguishes between these and rational piety. The play met with great success in the representation, taking a run of eighteen sights; the subject itself being its protection, and its enemies not daring to show any more at that time than a few smiles of silent contempt. The consequence, however, was what the author foresaw; that is to say, the stirring up a party against him, who would scarcely suffer any thing he wrote afterwards to meet with fair play, and making him the constant butt of Mist's Journal, and all the Jacobite faction. Nor do we think it by any means an improbable surmise, that the enmity and inveteracy of his antagonist Mr. Pope, and the set of wits who were connected with him, might have their original foundation traced from the appearance of this play.

birth and fortune are well known to you; and but since you think it your duty, as a son, to I dare swear, he may defy the world to lay be concerned for my errors, I think it as much a blemish on his character. mine, as a father, to be concerned for yours. If you think fit to amend them, so; if not, take the consequence.

Sir J. Why then, sir, since I am to be catechised, I must tell you I do not like his character; he is a world-server, a libertine, and has no more religion than you have.

Col. L. Well, sir, may I ask you, without offence, if the reasons you have given me are Col. L. Sir, we neither of us think it pro- your only reasons for discountenancing Mr. per to make a boast of our religion; but, if Darnley's addresses to my sister? you please to inquire, you will find that we Sir J. Are they not flagrant? would you go to church as orderly as the rest of our have me marry my daughter to a Pagan?1) neighbours. Col. L. He intends this morning paying his Sir J. Oh, you go to church! you go to respects to you, in hopes to obtain your final church!-Wonderful! wonderful! to bow, and consent; and desired me to be present as a grin, and cough, and sleep: a fine act of de- mediator of articles between you.

votion indeed.

Col. L. Well but, dear sir-
Sir J. Colonel, you are an Atheist.

Sir J. I am glad to hear it.
Col. L. That's kind indeed, sir.
Sir J. May be not, sir; for I will not be at

Col. L. Pardon me, sir, I am none; it is a home when he comes: and because I will not character I abhor; and next to that, I abhor tell a lie for the matter, I'll go out this moment. the character of an enthusiast. 1) Col. L. Nay, dear sir

Sir J. Oh, you do so; an enthusiast!—this is the fashionable phrase, the bye-word, the nick-name, that our pleasure-loving generation give to those few who have a sense of true sanctity.

Col. L. Say, canting, sir.

Sir J. I tell you what, son, as I have told you more than once, you will draw some heavy judgment on your head one day or other.

Sir J. And, do you hear-because I will not deceive him either, tell him I would not have him lose his time in fooling after your sister-In short, I have another man in my head for her. [Exit.

Col. L. Another man! It would be worth one's while to know him: pray heaven this canting hypocrite has not got some beggarly rascal in his eye for her. I must rid the house Col. L. So says the charitable doctor Cant- of him at any rate, or all the settlement I can well; you have taken him into your house, hope for from my father is a castle in the air. and in return he gives over half your family -My sister may be ruined too-here she comes. If there be another man in the case, she, doubt, can let me into the secret.

to the devil.

Sir J. Do not abuse the doctor, colonel; it is not the way to my favour. I know you cannot bear him, because he is not one of your mincing preachers. He holds up the glass to your enormities, shows you to yourselves in your genuine colours.

Enter CHARLotte.

Sister, good morrow; I want to speak with

you.

Char. Pr'ythee then, dear brother, don't put on that wise, politic face, as if your regiment Col. L. I always respect piety and virtue, was going to be disbanded, or sent to the sir; but there are pretenders to religion, as West Indies, and you obliged to follow it. well as to courage; and as we never find the Col. L. Come, come, a truce with your truly brave to be such as make much noise raillery: what I have to ask of you is serious, about their valour; so, I apprehend, the truly and I beg you would be so in your answer. good seldom or never deal much in grimace. Char. Well, then, provided it is not upon Sir J. Very well, sir; this is very well. the subject of love, I will be so-but make Col. L. Besides, sir, I would be glad to haste too-for I have not had my tea yet. know, by what authority the doctor pretends to exercise the clerical function. 2) It does not appear clearly to me that he ever was in orders. Sir J. That is no business of yours, sir. But, I am better informed.-However, he has the call of zeal.

Col. L. Zeal!

Col. L. Why it is, and it is not, upon that subject.

Char. Oh, I love a riddle dearly-Comelet's hear it.

Col. L. Nay, pshaw! if you will be serious, say so.

Char. O lard, sir! I beg your pardon-there Sir J. Why, colonel, you are in a passion.—there's my whole form and features, totally Col. L. I own I cannot see with temper, disengaged and lifeless, at your service; now, sir, so many religious mountebanks impose on put them in what posture of attention you the unwary multitude; wretches, who make a think fit. [Leans on him awkwardly. trade of religion, and show an uncommon Col. L. Was there ever such a giddy devil! concern for the next world, only to raise their -Pr'ythee, stand up. I have been talking with fortunes with greater security in this. my father, and he declares positively you shal! not receive any further addresses from Mr. Darnley.

Sir J. Colonel, let me hear no more; I see you are too hardened to be converted now:

1) A religious sect, possessing much less of the charity
of christians than any other of the numerous list of
them with which the world is over-run; their prayers
and sermons, contrary to the church of England, are
all extempore.
Mawworm shows them in their most
zealous, Cantwell in their most unfavourable light.
.) The greater part of the preachers as well as auditors
of this sect are tailors, cobblers, and others, who have
had a call as they call it.

Char. Are you serious?

1) The intoleration of the Methodists, is carried to such a degree, that, even in their sermons, they most charitably condemn every person of any other persuasion than theirs, to the most horrible of all the burning fires of Tartarus; and, as they allect a very sanctified way of living themselves, all persons visiting that devil's hot-house the theatre, playing at cards, reading novels, etc., must meet with some still more tenible punishment, if possible.

Col. L. He said so this minute, and with some warmth.

Char. O lud!1) O lud! pr'ythee, brother, don't be so wise; if you had an empty house Char. I am glad on't, with all my heart. to let, would you be displeased to hear there Col. L. How! glad! were two people about it? besides, to be a Char. To a degree. Do you think a man little serious, Darnley has a tincture of jealousy has any more charms for me for my father's in his temper, which nothing but a substantial liking him? no, sir, if Mr. Darnley can make rival can cure.

his way to me now, he is obliged to me, and Col. L. Oh, your servant, madam! now you to me only. Besides, now it may have the talk reason. I am glad you are concerned face of an amour indeed, now one has some- enough for Darnley's faults, to think them worth thing to struggle for; there's difficulty, there's your mending; ha! ha!

danger, there's the dear spirit of contradiction Char. Concerned! why, did I say that?in it too-Oh! I like it mightily. look you, I'll deny it all to him-well, if ever

Col. L. I am glad this does not make you I'm serious with him again— think the worse of Darnley-but my father's

Col. L. Here he comes; be as merry with

consent might have clapped a pair of horses him as you please.
more to your coach perhaps, and the want of
it may pinch your fortune.

Char. Burn fortune; am not I a fine woman? and have not I twenty thousand pounds in my own hands?

Col. L. Yes, sister; but with all your charms, you have had them in your hands almost these four years.

Enter DARNLEY.

Darn. My dear colonel, your servant. Col. L. I am glad you did not come sooner; for in the humour my father left me, 'twould not have been a proper time for you to have pressed your affair-I touched upon't-butI'll tell you more presently; in the mean time lose no ground with my sister.

Char. Pshaw! and have not I had the full swing of my own airs and humours these four Darn. I shall always think myself obliged years? but if I humour my father, I warrant to your friendship, let my success be what it he'll make it three or four thousand more, will-Madam-your most obedient-what have with some unlicked lout-a comfortable equi- you got there, pray? valent, truly! No, no; let him light his pipe with his consent, if he please. Wilful against wise for a wager.

Col. L. But pray, sister, has my father ever proposed any other man to you?'

Char. Another man! let me know why you ask, and I'll tell you.

Col. L. Why, the last words he said to me were, that he had another man in his head for you. Char. And who is it? who is it? tell me, dear brother.

Col. L. Why, you don't so much as seem surprised.

Char. No; but I'm impatient, and that's as well.
Col. L. Why how now, sister?

Char. Why sure, brother, you know very little of female happiness, if you suppose the surprise of a new lover ought to shock a woman of my temper- don't you know that I am a coquette?

Col. L. If you are, you are the first that ever was sincere enough to own her being so. Char. To a lover, I grant you; but not to you; I make no more of you than a sister: I can say any thing to you.

Char. [Reading] 2) "Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose; Quick as her eyes, and as unfix'd as those-" Darn. Pray, madam, what is't? Char. "Favours to none, to all she smiles extendsDarn. Nay, I will see.

Char. "Oft she rejects, but never once offends." Col. L. Have a care: she has dipped into her own character, and she'll never forgive you, if you don't let her go through with it. Darn. I beg your pardon, madam. Char. "Bright as the sun her eyes the gazers strike, [Um-um And like the sun they shine on all alike." Darn. That is something like indeed. Col. L. You would say so, if you knew all. Darn. All what? pray what do you mean? Col. L. Have a little patience: I'll tell you immediately.

Char. "If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face—and you'll forget them all." Is not that natural, Mr. Darnley?

Darn. For a woman to expect, it is indeed. Char. And can you blame her, when 'tis at Col. L. Í should have been better pleased, the same time a proof of the poor man's pasif you had not owned it to me-it's a hateful sion and her power? character. Darn. So that you think the greatest conChar. Ay, it's no matter for that, it's vio-pliment a lover can make his mistress, is to lently pleasant, and there's no law against it, give up his reason to her. that I know of.

Char, Certainly; for what have your lordly sex to boast of but your understanding, and till that's entirely surrendered to her discre1) This word \lud is a corruption of Lord! we find such in all languages, where people think to cheat the devil by substituting a word something similar to the oath in its original form, and believe, if they do not swear in the exact word, that the sin is entirely atoned for. There are many other examples of this sort in English, where the most abominable oaths are softened down into a pretty little word, which seems to fit many a pretty little mouth, if we may judge from the frequency of their application by the female sex, though it must be confessed that they are totally ignorant of their meaning. 2) Pope's Rape of the Lock, Canto II. v. 8.

tion, while the least sentiment holds out against his reproaches have that greatness of soulher, a woman must be downright vain to think the confusion they give is insupportable,— her conquest completed!

Darn. There we differ, madam; for, in my opinion, nothing but the most excessive vanity could value or desire such a conquest.

Char. Oh, d'ye hear him, brother? the creature reasons with me; nay, has the effrontery to think me in the wrong too! O lud! he'd make a horrid tyrant-positively I won't have him. Darn. Well, my comfort is, no other man will easily know whether you'll have him or not. Char. Am I not a vain, silly creature, Mr. Darnley?

Darn. A little bordering upon the baby, I

must own.

Enter BETTY.

Betty, is the tea ready?
Bet. Yes, madam."

Char. Mr. Darnley, your servant.

[Exit Charl. and Betty. Col. L. So; you have made a fine piece of work on't, indeed!

Darn. Dear Tom, pardon me if I speak a little freely; I own the levity of her behaviour, at this time, gives me harder thoughts than Í once believed it possible to have of her. Col. L. Indeed, my friend, you mistake her. Darn. Nay, nay; had she any real concern Char. Laud!) how can you love a body for me, the apprehensions of a man's addresso then? but I don't think you love me though ses, whom yet she never saw, must have -do you? alarmed her to some degree of seriousness. Col. L. Not at all; for let this man be whom he will, I take her levity as a proof of her Char. Poor man! he'd fain bring me to reason. resolution to have nothing to say to him. Darn. I would indeed.-Nay, were it but Darn. And pray, sir, may I not as well possible to make you serious only when you suspect, that this artful delay of her good nashould be so, I should think you the most ture to me now, is meant as a provisional amiable

Darn. Yes, faith, I do; and so shamefully, that I'm in hopes you doubt it.

Char. O lud! he's civil

Darn. Come, come, you have good sense; use me but with that, and make me what you please.

Char. Laud! I don't desire to make any thing of you, not I.

Darn. Come then, be generous, and swear at least you'll never marry another.

Char. Ah, laud! now you have spoiled all again:-besides, how can I be sure of that, before I have seen this other man my brother spoke to me of?

Darn. What riddle's this?

Col. L. I told you, you did not know all. To be serious, my father went out but now, on purpose to avoid you.-In short, he absolutely retracts his promises; says, he would not have you fool away your time after my sister; and in plain terms told me, he had another man in his head for her.

Darn. Another man! who? what is he? did not he name him?

Col. L. No; nor has he yet spoke of him to my sister.

what can

Darn. This is unaccountable! have given him this sudden turn? Col. L. Some whim our conscientious doctor has put in his head, I'll lay my life. Darn. He! he can't be such a villain; he professes a friendship for me.

Col. L. So much the worse.

Darn. But on what pretence, what grounds, what reason, what interest, can he have to oppose me?

Col. L. Are you really now as unconcerned as you seem to be?

defence against my reproaches, in case, when she has seen this man, she should think it convenient to prefer him.

Col. L. No, no; she's giddy, but not capable of so studied a falsehood.

Darn. But still, what could she mean by going away so abruptly?

Col. L. You grew too grave for her.
Darn. Why, who could bear such trifling?
Col. L. You should have laughed at her.
Darn. I can't love at that easy rate.

Col. L. No-if you could, the uneasiness would lie on her side.

Darn. Do you then really think she has any thing in her heart for me?

Col. L. Ay, marry, 1) sir—ah! if you could but get her to own that seriously now; Lord! how you could love her!

Darn. And so I could, by heaven!

Col. L. Well, well, I'll undertake for her; if my father don't stand in the way, we well enough.

are

Darn. What says my lady? you don't think she's against us?

Col. L. I dare say she is not. She's of so soft, so sweet a disposition

Darn. Pr'ythee, how came so fine a woman to marry your father, with such a vast inequality of years?

Col. L. Want of fortune, Frank: she was poor and beautiful-he, rich and amorousshe made him happy, and he her

Darn. A lady

Col. L. And a jointure-now she's the only one in the family that has power with our precise doctor; and, I dare engage, she'll use it with him to persuade my father from any Char. You are a strange dunce, brother-thing that is against your interest. By the you know no more of love than I do of a way, you must know I have some shrewd regiment-You shall see now how I'll comfort suspicion that this sanctified rogue is in love him-Poor Darnley, ha, ha, ha! with her.

Darn. I don't wonder at your good humour, madam, when you have so substantial an opportunity to make me uneasy for life. Char. Olud! how sentimentious he is! well,

1) Lord.

Darn. In love!

Enter DOCTOR CANTWELL, OLD LADY LAM- will stay and join in the private duties of the BERT, and SEYWARD.

family.

Dr. C. Charles, step up into my study; Old Lady L. No, doctor, no; it is too bring down a dozen more of those manuals early; the sun has not risen upon them; but, of devotion, with the last hymns I composed; I doubt not, the day will come. and, when he calls, give them to M. MawDr. C. I warrant, they would go to a play worm; and, do you hear, if any one inquires now! for me, say I am gone to Newgate1), and the Marshalsea 2), to distribute alms. [Exit Seyward.

Old Lady L. Would they-I am afraid they would.

Darn. Why, I hope it is no sin, madam; Old Lady L. Well but, worthy doctor, ship at a play. if I am not mistaken, I have, seen your ladywhy will you go the prisons yourself-cannot

you send the money?

ugly distempers

Old Lady L. Me, sir! see me at a play!

are often catched there-have a care of your you may have seen the prince of darkness, bealth; let us keep one good man, at least, or some of his imps, in my likeness, perhaps―

amongst us,

do

you think I

Darn. Well but, madamDr. C. Alas, madam, I am not a good would commit murder? Old Lady L. Mr. Darnley, man; I am a guilty, wicked sinner, full of Dr. C. No, sir, no; these are not the iniquity; the greatest villain that ever breathed; every instant of my life is clouded with stains; plants usually to be met with in that rank it is one continued series of crimes and defile- soil; the seeds of wickedness indeed sprout ments; you do not know what I am capa- the devil's hot-bedup every where too fast; but a playhouse is

but the truth is, I am a worthless creature.

-as in case of a benefit

Dr. C. The charity covereth the sin and mination to the comfort of the righteous. it may be lawful to turn the wages of abo

Col. L. Ha, ha, ha!

ble of; you indeed take me for a good man; Col. L. And yet, doctor, I have known Old Lady L. Have you then stumbled? some of the leaders of your tribe, as scrupualas! if it be so, who shall walk upright? lous as they are, who have been willing to what horrid crime have you been hurried in-gather fruit there for the use of the brethern to, that calls for this severe self-accrimination? Dr. C. None, madam, that perhaps humanity may call very enormous; yet am I sure, that my thoughts never stray a moment from celestial contemplations? do they not sometimes, before I am aware, turn to things of this earth? am I not often hasty, and surprised into wrath? nay, the instance is recent; for last night, being snarled at and bit by Minxy, your daughter-in-law's lap-dog, I am conscious I struck the little beast with a degree of passion, for which I have never been able to forgive myself since.

Old Lady L. Oh! worthy, humble soul! this is a slight offence, which your suffering and mortifications may well atone for.

Dr. C. Reprobate! reprobate!

Col. L. What is that you mutter, sirrah?
Old. Lady L. Oh heavens!
Darn. Let him go, colonel.
Col. L. A canting hypocrite!
Dr. C. Very well, sir; your father shall
know my treatment.

[Exit.
Old, Lady L. Let me run out of the house;
I shall have it fall upon my head, if I stay
among such wicked wretches. O grandson!
grandson!
[Exit

Darn. Was there ever such an insolent rascal!
beat his brains out.
Col. L. The dog will one day provoke me

Dr. C. No, madam, no; I want to suffer; I ought to be mortified; and I am obliged to now to tell you, that, for my soul's sake, I Darn. But what the devil is he? whence must quit your good son's family; I am pam- comes he?-what is his original?-how has pered too much here, live too much at my ease. he so ingratiated himself with your father, as Old. Lady L. Good doctor! to get footing in the house?

are a pure woman.

Dr. C. Alas, madam! it is not you that Col. L. Oh, sir, he is here in quality of should shed tears; it is I ought to weep; you chaplain; he was first introduced by the good Old Lady L. I pure! who, I? no, no; has been a long time a frequenter of our moold lady that's just gone out. You know, she sinful, sinful—but do not talk of quitting our dern conventicles, where is scems she got acfamily; what will become of us--for friendship quainted with this sanctified pastor. His dis-for charityDr. C. Enough; say no more, madam; Ither, who has been for some time tainted ciples believe him a saint; and my poor fasubmit; while I can do good, it is my duty with their pernicious principles, has been led into the same snare.

Enter COLONEL LambeRT and DARNLEY. Col. L. Your ladyship's most humble servant. Old Lady L. Grandson, how do you? Darn. Good day to you, doctor! Dr. C. Mr. Darnley, I am your most humble servant; I hope you and the good colonel 1) London being formerly encompassed by a wall, had gates resembling the one at Temple-Bar; besides their use as a Postern, they were employed as places of

confinement; hence the prisons of Newgate, Ludgate, etc. 2) The Marshalsen is a jail of great antiquity, situated

near St. George's church in the Borough of Southwork.

1

Darn. Hah! here's your sister again. Re-enter CHARLOTTE and DOCTOR CANTWELL. Char. You'll find, sir, I will not be used thus; nor shall your credit with my father protect your insolence to me.

Col. L. What's the matter?

Char. Nothing; pray be quiet.-I don't want bolt with such authority into my chamber, you--stand out of the way-how durst you without giving me notice? Darn. Confusion!