She gave thee to a summer stage,
'Gainst opera chiefs the war to wage
With bodies lean and taper.

I list beneath thy Muse's wing,
Who would not rather hear her sing,
Than see her sister caper?

My Muse is of the ostrich sort,
Her eggs, of fortune's gale the sport,
She in the sand conceals 'em ;
By no instrusive wanderer found,
Till watchman Phoebus walks his round,
And with his ray reveals 'em.

But should the god's far-darting ray,
Destroy her feeble lines to day,
She'll breed again to-morrow :
These trifles ne'er her mind annoy,
Who never knew a parent's joy,
Ne'er felt a parent's sorrow.

THE INDIAN PRINCESS.

IN our review of this play, last week, want of room obliged us to curtail our selections. We give the following scene at the commencement of the third act, as a specimen of the author's talents at humorous composition. It is certainly not inferiour to the writings of most modern English play-mongers, the opinions of their criticks to the contrary notwithstanding; and would by no means discredit the plays of Colman or Tobin.

WALTER and ALICE.

Wal. One mouthful more (kiss). Oh! after a long lent of absence, what a charming relish is a kiss, served from the lips of a pretty wife, to a hungry husband.

Al. And, believe me, I banquet at the high festival of return with equal pleasure. But what has made your absence so tedious, prithee? Wal. Marry, girl, thus it was: when we had given the enemies of our ally, Powhatan, defeature, and sent the rough Miami in chains to Werocomoco, our captain despatches his lieutenant, Rolfe, to supply his place, here, in the town; and leading us to the water's edge, and leaping into the pinnace, away went we on a voyage of discovery.— Some thousand miles we sailed, and many strange nations discovered ;

and for our exploits, if posterity reward us not, there is no faith in his

Redeem'd him with some score or two of deer skins.

Then we've made thirty kings our tributaries :

Such sturdy rogues, that each could easily

Fillip a buffaloe to death with 's finger.
Al. But have you got their treasures?
All, my girl.

Wal.
Imperial robes of raccoon, crowns of feather;
Besides the riches of their sev'ral kingdoms-
A full boat load of corn.

Wal. Ay, is it not? But, best of all, I've kiss'd
The little finger of a mighty queen.

Sweet soul! among the court'sies of her court,
She gave us a Virginian Mascarado.

Oh !

Al. Dost recollect the fashion of it?
Wal.
Were I to live till Time were in his dotage,
'Twould never from mine eyes. Imagine first,
The scene, a gloomy wood; the time, midnight;
Her squawship's maids of honour were the masquers;
Their masks were wolves' heads curiously set on,

And, bating a small difference of hue,

Their dress e'en such as madam Eve had on,
Or ere she eat the apple,

Al.

Wal.

Pshaw !

These dresses,

All o'er perfum'd with the self-same pomado

Which our fine dames at home buy of old Bruin,
Glisten'd most gorgeously unto the moon.

Thus, each a firebrand brandishing aloft,

Rush'd they all forth, with shouts and frantick yells,
In dance grotesque, and diabolical,

Madder than mad Bacchantes.

Wal. When they had finished the divertisement

A beauteous Wolf-head came to me

Al.

To you?

Wal. And lit me with her pine-knot torch to bedward,

Where, as the custom of the court it was,

The beauteous Wolf-head blew the flambeau out,
And then-

Al.

Wal.

Well!

To all that follow'd, I

Now you look grave.

Then, the light being out, you know, was in the dark.

In faith I went to sleep.

Could a grim wolf rival my gentle lamb?
No, truly, girl: though in this wilderness
The trees hang full of divers colour'd fruit,
From orange-tawny, to sloe-black, egad,
They'll hang until they rot or ere I pluck them,
While I've my melting rosy nonpareil.

Al. O! you're a Judas !

Wal.

Then I am a Jew!

ON RELIGIOUS MADNESS OR ENTHUSIASM.

I THINK it is pretty evident that madness is a super-abundance of vital spirits, which must burst their vessel, if they do not overflow, or be let out by tapping; but which way soever they find their evacuation, they generally ferment first, and make a terrible combustion within. This is the devil which haunts us, and often carries away part of an empty house, or blows it up. If he ascend to our garrets or upper regions, he disorders the brain, and shews visions, airy and romantick images and appearances, carries the hero out of himself, and then sends him armed cap-a-pee, in wild expeditions, to encounter wind-mills, and giants of his own making; till at last he return home (if ever he return home) transported with his victory, and in his own opinion a most consummate knight-errant.

Whenever the mind cannot be confined within its inclosure, but flies like Phaeton into the great abyss, and gives the full reins to imagination, it will quickly be carried out of its knowledge, and ramble about wherever fancy, desire, or vision, leads it. It will quickly rise above humanity, become proper conversation for the celestial beings; and when once it can persuade itself into such angelical company, will certainly despise all other; and the man who is animated by it will think he has a right to gov

ern all. If the excess of any passion be madness, the excess of them altogether is exorbitant and outrageous madness; and whoever can get it into his head that he has secret communications with the deity, must have all his passions at work together.The awe of a divine presence must strike him strongly with fear and reverence: The fancied indulgence and condescension shewn him, must raise the highest love, adoration and transports of joy: So visible a partiality of the deity to him beyond other men, must create pride and contempt towards others: Such a support and assistance must inspire the highest courage and resolution to overcome all opposition: Hatred and revenge to all who do not believe him will bring up the rear. At last the jumble of all these passions, with many more, will make an accomplished reformer of mankind.

Those in Bedlam and the madmen

You never knew a madman of any sort, who was not wiser than all mankind, and did not despise his whole race, who were not blessed with the same obliquity of head. think that they are all mad who are out of it; out of Bedlam pity the madmen in it. The Virtuoso, or dealer in butterflies, who lays himself out in the science of blue and brown beetles, thinks all science but his own to be useless or trifling. The collectors of old books are of opinion, that learning, which is intended to improve and enlighten the understanding, is inseparable from dust, and dirt, and obscurity, or contemptible without them. The Pedant loads his heavy head with old words, and scorns all those who are not accomplished with the same lumber.

Now, all these madmen, and many more who might be added, are harmless enthusiasts; and their pride being part of their madness, is only a jest. But your holy enthusiast is often a mischievous madman, who out of pure zeal for God, destroys his creatures, and plagues, and harasses, and kills them for their good. The Saracens, a barbarous, poor, and desert nation, half naked, without arts, unskilled in war, and but half armed, animated by a mad Prophet, and a new religion, which made them all mad; overrun and conquered all Asia, most part of Africa, and a part of Europe. Such courage, fierceness, and mischief, did their enthusiasm inspire. It is amazing how much they suf fered, and what great things they did, without any capacity of doing them, but a religion which was strong in proportion as it wanted charity, probability, and common sense.

They saw rapturous visions in the air, of beautiful damsels richly attired, holding forth their arms, and calling to them for their embraces; and being animated by such powerful deities, no enterprize was too hard for them. They scarce ever departed from any siege, however inferiour to it in military arts or numbers. Their constant rule was to fight till they had subdued their enemies, either to their religion or to pay tribute. They had God and his great, apostle on their side, and were obstinately determined to die, or to conquer; and therefore they always did conquer. And their success confirmed their delusion; for finding that they performed greater actions than any other race of mankind ever did, or could do, they believed themselves assisted by heaven; and so esteemed their madness to be inspiration. And then it was very natural to believe that they were the sole favourites of the Almighty, who interposed thus miraculously in their behalf; that they were employed to do this work that all the good things of this world were but just rewards of their obedience; and consequently that it was their duty to plunder, distress, kill, and destroy all who resisted the will of God, and denied to give to them their undoubted right.

Now what was able to withstand the inspired savages; who if they lived and conquered, had this world, or, which was bet ter, if they were killed, had the next? They were sure either of empire or paradise; a paradise too, which gratified their carnal appetites. There is no dealing with an armed enthusiast: If you oppose real reason to his wild revelations, you are cursed; if you resist him, you are killed. It signifies nothing to tell him, that you cannot submit to the impulses of a spirit which you have not, and which you do not believe; and that when you have the same spirit you will be of the same mind: No, perhaps that very spirit has told him, that he must kill you for not having it, though you could no more have it, than you could be what you were not.

Don Quixote was a more reasonable madman: He never beat, nor famished, nor tortured the unbelieving Sancho, for having a cooler head than his own, and for not seeing the extraordinary miracles, and visions which he himself saw. If a man see battles in the air, or armies rising out of the sea, am I to be persecuted because I cannot see them too, when they are not to be seen! Or ought not rather their distracted Seer to be shut up