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times fcandalous representation, fhe obtains the applause, which the never fails to folicit at the conclufion, and the third act of the great piece is permitted to begin: It may be imagined what becomes of illufion and intereft after thefe interruptions, on which account, it is not uncommon to fee, after the Tonadilla is finished, the audience diminish and become reduced to the few who are unacquainted with the principal piece, or whofe curiofity is ftrong enough to make them wait to fee the unravelling. From what has been said, it may be judged that the Spaniards feel but few lively, strong, or contrived emotions; which in other countries are the delight of the lovers of the dramatic art. The Saynetes and Tonadillas are frequently in Spain what are most attractive in these ftrange medleys, and it must be confeffed the auditor may be satisfied with them when he goes to the theatre to relax, and not agreeably to employ, his mind. Af ter a fhort refidence in Spain, it is eafy to conceive the attraction which the Saynetes and Tonadillas may have for the people of the country. Manners, dress, adventures and mufic; all are national; befides, there are frequently prefented in these little pieces two fpecies of beings peculiar to Spain, and whofe manners and expreffions ought to be held in contempt, but which, on the contrary, are the objects of much mirth and pleasantry, and fometimes of imitation. Thefe are the Majos and the Majas on the one part, and the Gitanos and Gitanas on the other.
The Majos are beaux of the lower clafs, or rather bullies, whofe grave and frigid pompofity is announced by their whole exterior. They have an accent, habit, and gefture peculiar to themselves. Their countenance, half concealed under a brown ftuff bonnet, called Montera, bears the character of threatening feveri
ty, or of wrath, which feems to brave perfons the most proper to awe them into respect, and which is not foft. ened even in the presence of their mistress. The officers of justice fcarcely dare attack them. The women, intimidated by their terrible afpect, feem to wait with refignation the foft caprice of thefe petty fultans: If they are provoked by any freedoms, a gefture of impatience, a menacing look, fometimes a long rapier or a poinard concealed under their wide cloak, announce that they cannot permit familiarity with impunity. The Majas, on their parts, rival these caprices as much as their feeble means will permit; they seem to make a study of effrontery. The licentioufness of their manners appears in their attitudes, actions, and expreffions; and when lewdness in their perfons is cloathed with every wanton form, all the epithets which admiration can infpire are lavished upon them. This is the difagreeable fide of the picture. But if the fpectator goes with a difpofition, not very fcrupulous, to the reprefentation in which the Majas figure; when he becomes familiarized to manners ve: y little conformable to the virtues of the sex, and the means of infpiring ours with favourable fentiments, he fees in each of them the most seducing priestefs that ever prefided at the altars of Venus. Their impudent affectation is no more than a poignant allurement, which introduces into the senfes a delirium that the wifelt can fcarcely guard against, and which, if it infpire not love, at least promifes much pleasure.
The most indulgent perfons will, however, be difpleafed that the Majos and Majas are thus received upon the theatre, and preferve their allurements even in the circles of good company. In most countries the inferior claffes think it an honour to ape their fuperiors; in Spain it is
the contrary, in many refpects. There
like a Majo.-One would take her for a Maja. This is, indeed, renouncing the nobility of one of the fexes, and the decency which conftitutes the principal charm of the o ther,
Reflections on the Tragedy of" Mary Queen of Scots."
Aut famam fequere, aut fibi convenientia finge,
HOR. De Art. Poet. 119,
Norfolk, July 24.
if well-known characters are mifre
T is, I believe, generally allowed I fupplied with nobler materials from History than either from Mythology or the invention of the Poet. What is drawn from this fource interefts us more deeply, as it operates ufually on our preconceived partialities and prejudices: we have formed, probably, an imaginary friendship with fome of the characters reprefented, and we have taken up an enmity against others; or, if not, we at least fancy we have an acquaintance with them, and are delighted accordingly in listening to their fentiments, and in being fpectators of their exploits. It is, however, not only neceffary, but effential to our pleasure, that what is given them, either to speak or to act, coincide with the ideas we have been accuftomed to entertain of them. If the part affigned them in the drama be irreconcileable with thefe, and much more if it be contradictory to them, the incredulus odi of the Latin poet is inevitable- We do not bear even well-known facts to be much distorted; but we rise immediately in arms
fpect even to perfons of foreign nations; but it is more particularly fo with regard to our own countrymen. An elegant modern author has obferved, that the generality of the English form their opinions of the eminent characters of their own ifland rather from their dramatic, than from their hiftoric, writers. The remark is certainly juft. I cannot therefore but think that (independently of giving more pleafure to their readers) it ought to be a point of confcience with the formex not to exhibit the perfonages of their drama in colours different from what their deportment in real life. authorifes. To heighten, in fome degree, their virtues may be allowable, but furely not to depreciate them; we may acquiefce, perhaps, in a flight palliation of their vices, but never in their exaggeration.
I have been led into these reflections by the perufal of a late popular tragedy, Mary Queen of Scots."
Suppofing the fentiments laid down above to be juft, it is objectionable Mr Walpole
Why, I would ask the honourable writer, is the execution of Mary made immediately confequent to the maffacre of St Bartholomew? Did E-, lizabeth's deteftable conduct towards her unfortunate captive deserve this palliation? Was it really the warmth of fudden refentment for fo much Proteftant blood-fhed, and her fears of fimilar destruction to her own fubjects from the life of the Queen Scotland, which induced her to fign the fatal warrant? or was it not rather her envy of her coufin's fuperior beauty, her jealoufy of a rival, and her hatred of a fucceffor? Neither you, Sir, nor your readers, need be told, that a period of thirteen years intervened between the above-mentioned maffacre and Mary's death. If, therefore, this unhappy Princess fell a facrifice to Elizabeth's refentment on account of this dreadful event, it was a refentment fimilar to that afcribed by Tacitus to one of the worst characters of antiquity; the ftatefman Cecil, I prefume, was the Sejanus of the occafion, qui accendebat bac, onerabatque, peritia morum Elizabetha, odia in longum jaciens, que reconderet, auctaque promeret.
able in many particulars, but more, man of honour; his conduct with re efpecially, I think, in two., fpect to Mary, in one substantial inftance, would reduce to nothing and entirely obliterate every failure in politenefs, every deficience in ceremony, though they had been a thoufand times more flagrant than they were. That he might ufe her too roughly, I will not deny; but the manners of the age are to be confidered; and perhaps he had not that opinion of her immaculate purity which fome of her modern champi ons have maintained: that he would do nothing with refpect to her which might ftain his honour, or that his confcience disapproved, there is a letter of his on record, which is a more than prefumptive evidence. Your readers of feeling will not be dif pleafed with an antidote to the foul opinion they must have conceived of Sir Amias if they only know him from Mr St John's drama. Sir Amias Paulet was joint keeper of the Q. of Scotland with Sir Drue Drury, during a part of her confinement at Fotheringay. It fhould feem that he had been ordered by Sir Francis Walfingham, by the direction of Elizabeth, to make away with his royal prifoner privately. The following was his anfwer:
But the other objection which I have to make is of ftill greater confequence, inafmuch as it is of worfe tendency to criminate the innocent than to exculpate the guilty. Why is Sir Amias Paulet brought forward in a part of his life which does him the greatest credit, merely as a favage and relentless goaler? Why, if it was neceffary to introduce him at all (which I confess I do not fee, fince his introduction contributes nothing to the advancement of the plot) why did not our author exhibit the refplendent lights as well as the dark fhades of his character? If their good name be of any value to the dead, Mr St John owes this gentleman fignal reparation. Sir Amias Paulet was a
Sir Amias Paulet to Sir Francis
Your letters of yesterday coming to my hands this prefent day at 5 in the afternoon, I would not fail, according to your direction, to return my anfwer with all poffible speed, which fhall deliver unto you, with great grief and bitterness of mind, in that I am fo unhappy to have lyven to fee this unhappy day, in the which I am required, by direction from my moft gracious fovereign, to do an act which God and the Law forbiddeth. My good livings and life are at her Majefty's difpofition, and am ready to lofe them this
ext morrow, acknowledging I hold them of her mere moft gracious fayour; I do not defire them, to enjoy them, but with her Highneffes good liking but God forbid that I fhould make fo fowle a fhipraeke of my confcience, or leave fo great a blott to my pofteritie, to fhed blood without law and warrant; trufting that her Majesty, of her accustomed clemency, will take this my dutiful anfwer in good part, (and the rather by your good mediation), as proceeding from one who will never be inferior to any Christian subject living in duty, honour, love, and obedience, towards his fovereign. And thus I commit you to the mercy of the Almighty. From Fotheringay, the 2d Feb. 1586. Your most affured poor friends, A. POULET, D. DRURY.
Your letters coming in the plural number, feem to be meant as to Sir D. Drury as to myfelf; he not being named, forbeareth to make any anfwer, but fubfcribeth in heart to my opinion.
I know not whether the noble fa mily which bears this gentleman's name is of that pofterity for whofe honour he is fo laudably anxious; but even if there are none of his defcendants remaining, every person of candour and justice will be pleafed to fee the character of a brave and honeft man thus vindicated. Your's, &c.
HE difpofition to fleep walking feems, in the opinion of this committee, to depend on a particular affection of the nerves, which both feizes and quits the patient during fleep. Under the influence of this affection, the imagination reprefents to him the objects that ftruck him while awake, with as much force as if they really affected his fenfes; but does not make him perceive any of thofe that are actually prefented to his fenfes, except in fo far as they are connected with the dreams which engrofs him at the time. If, during VOL. X. No. 57. Bb
P. S. Permit me, Sir to add, that the above letter of Sir Amias Paulet may deserve to be paralleled with, and naturally calls to our remembrance, the Chevalier Grillon's refufal to affaffinate the Duke of Guise, at the request of Henry III.; but it fill more strongly refembles the reply which was made by the governor of a fortrefs to Charles IX. who had ordered him to maffacre the Pro teftants within his diftrict on the dreadful eve of St Bartholomew:---
Sire, I have communicated your orders to the garrifon under my command; I find in it many loyal fubjects and brave foldiers, but not one executioner.'
Account of a remarkable Sleep-walker. From a Report made to the Phyfical Society of Laufanne, by a Committee of Gentlemen appointed to examine him.
this ftate, the imagination has nodetermined purpose, he receives the impreffion of objects as if he were az wakes only, however, when the imagination is excited to bend its attention towards them. The perceptions obtained in this ft te are rự accurate, and, when once received, the imagination renews them occafionally with as much force as if they were again acquired by means of the fenfes. Laftly, thefe academicians fuppofe, that the imprefficns receia' ved during this fate of the fenfes, difappear entirely when the perfon awakes,
awakes, and do not return till the return of the fame difpofition in the nervous system.
Their remarks were made on the Sieur Devaud, a lad thirteen years and a half old, who lives in the town of Vevey, and who is fubject to that fingular affection or difeafe, called Somnambulism, or Sleep walking. This lad poffeffes a ftrong and robuft conftitution, but his nervous fyftem appears to be organized with peculiar delicacy, and to difcover marks of the greateft fenfibility and irritability. His fenfes of fmell, tafte, and touch, are exquifite; he is fubject to fits of immoderate and involuntary laughter, and he fometimes likewife weeps without any apparent caufe.
This young man does not walk in his fleep every night; feveral weeks fometimes pafs without any appearance of a fit. He is fubject to the disease generally two nights fucceffively, one fit lafting for feveral hours. The longeft are from three to four hours, and they commonly begin about three or four o'clock in the morning.
The fit may be prolonged, by gently paffing the finger or a feather over his upper lip, and this flight irritation likewife accelerates it. Having once fallen afleep upon a ftaircase, his upper lip was thus irritated with a feather, when he immediately ran down the steps with great precipitation, and refumed all his accuftomed activity. This experiment was repeated feveral times.
The young Devaud thinks he has obferved, that, on the evenings previous to a fit, he is fenfible of a certain heavinefs in his head, but efpecially of a great weight in his eyelids.
His fleep is at all times unquiet, but particularly when the fits are about to feize him. During his fleep motions are obfervable in every part of his body, with ftarting and pal
pitations; he utters broken words, fometimes fits up in his bed, and afterwards lies down again. He then begins to pronounce words more diflinally, he rifes abruptly, and acts as he is inftigated by the dream that then poffeffes him. He is fometimes, in fleep, fubject to continued and involuntary motions.
The departure of the fit is always preceded by two or three minutes of calm fleep, during which he fnores. He then awakes rubbing his eyes like a perfon who has flept quietly.
It is dangerous to awaken him during the fit, especially if it is done fuddenly; for then he fometimes falls into convulfions. Having rifen one night with the intention of going to eat grapes, he left the houfe, paffed through the town, and went to a vineyard where he expected good cheer. He was followed by feveral perfons, who kept at fome distance from him, one of whom fired
piftol, the noife of which initantly awakened him, and he fell down without fenfe. He was carried home and brought to himself, when he recollected very well the having been awakened in the vineyard; but nothing more, except the fright at being found there alone, which had made him fwoon.
After the fits, he generally feels a degree of laffitude; fometimes, tho2 rarely, of indifpofition. At the end of one of thofe fits, of which the gentlemen of the committee were witneffes, he was affected with vomitings; but he is always foon reftored.
When he is awaked, he never for the most part recollects any of the actions he has been doing during the fit.
The fubject of his dreams is circumfcribed in a fmall circle of objects, that relate to the few ideas, with which, at his age, his mind is furnished; fuch as his leffons, the church, the bells, and especially tales