Thomas Jefferson to Dr. Smith-Reminiscences of Franklin. the King ordered him to be handsomely complimented, and furnished him with a litter and mules of his own, the only kind of conveyance the state of his health could bear. No greater proof of his estimation in France can be given than the late letters of condolence on his death, from the National Assembly of that country, and the community of Paris, to the President of the United States and to Congress, and their public mournings on that event. It is, I believe, the first instance of that homage having been paid by a public body of one nation to a private citizen of another. His death was an affliction which was to happen to us at some time or other. We have reason to be thankful he was so long spared; that the most useful life should be the longest also; that it was protracted so far beyond the ordinary span allotted to man, as to avail us of his wisdom in the establishment of our freedom, and to bless him with a view of its dawn in the east, where they seemed, till now, to have learned every thing but how to be free. The succession to Dr. Franklin, at the court of France, was an excellent school of humility. On being presented to any one as the minister of America, the commonplace question used in such cases was, "C'est vous, monsieur, qui remplace le Docteur Franklin?""It is you, sir, who replace Doctor Franklin?" I generally answered, "No one can replace him, sir: I am only his successor." These small offerings to the memory of our great and dear friend, whom time will be making greater while it is sponging us from its records, must be accepted by you, sir, in that spirit of love and veneration for him, in which they are made; and not according to their insignificance in the eyes of a world, who did not want this mite to fill up the measure of his worth. Hannah More to her Sister-Criticism on Garrick in mlet. I pray you to accept, in addition, assurances of the sincere esteem and respect with which I have the honor to be, sir, your most obedient and most humble servant. XXIII.-CRITICISM ON GARRICK IN HAMLET. Hannah More to her Sister. ADELPHI, 1776. I imagine my last was not so ambiguous but that you saw well enough I stayed in town to see Hamlet, and I will venture to say that it was such an entertainment as will probably never again be exhibited to an admiring world. But this general panegyric can give you no idea of my feelings; and particular praise would be injurious to his excellences. In every part he filled the whole soul of the spectator, and transcended the most finished idea of the poet. The requisites for Hamlet are not only various but opposed. In him they are all united, and, as it were, concentrated. One thing I must particularly remark, that, whether in the simulation of madness, in the sinking of despair, in the familiarity of friendship, in the whirlwind of passion, or in the meltings of tenderness, he never once forgot he was a prince; and in every variety of situation and transition of feeling, you discovered the highest polish of fine breeding and courtly manners. Hamlet experiences the conflict of many passions and affections, but filial love ever takes the lead; that is the great point, from which he sets out, and to which he returns; the others are all contingent and subordinate to it, and are cherished or renounced, as they promote or obstruct the operations of this leading principle. Had you seen with what exquisite art and skill Hannah More to her Sister-Criticism on Garrick in Hamlet. Garrick maintained the subserviency of the less to the greater interests, you would agree with me, of what importance to the perfection of acting is that consummate good sense which always pervades every part of his performances. To the most eloquent expression of the eye, to the handwriting of the passions on his features, to a sensibility which tears to pieces the hearts of his auditors-to powers so unparal leled, he adds a judgment of the most exquisite accuracy, the fruit of long experience and close observation, by which he preserves every gradation and transition of the passions, keeping all under the control of a just dependence and natural consistency. So naturally, indeed, do the ideas of the poet seem to mix with his own, that he seemed himself to be engaged in a succession of affecting situations; not giving utterance to a speech, but to the instantaneous expressions of his feelings, delivered in the most affecting tones of voice, and with gestures that belong only to nature. It was a fiction as delightful as fancy, and as touching as truth. A few nights before I saw him in "Abel Drugger," and had I not seen him in both, I should have thought it as possible for Milton to have written "Hudibras," and Butler "Paradise Lost," as for one man to have played "Hamlet" and "Drugger" with such excellence. I found myself not only in the best place, but with the best company in the house, for I sat next the orchestra, in which were a number of my acquaintance (and those no vulgar names), Edmund and Richard Burke, Dr. Warton, and Sheridan. Have you seen an ode to Mr. Pinchbeck, by the author of the "Heroic Epistle"? There is a little slight sarcasm on Cumberland, the Dean of Gloucester, and Dr. Johnson. There is something of wit in it, but I think it is by no means worthy Robert Burns to Mr. Thompson-Origin of "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace Bled." of the author of the "Heroic Epistle," which is, in my opinion, the best satire, both for matter and versification, that has appeared since the "Dunciad." I do not include Johnson's two admirable imitations of "Juvenal," which are more in the manner of Pope's other satires. XXIV.-ORIGIN OF "SCOTS WHA HAE WI' WALLACE BLED." Robert Burns to Mr. Thompson. Sept., 1793. You may readily trust, my dear sir, that any exertion in my power is heartily at your service. But one thing I must hint to you: the very name of Peter Pindar is of great service to your publication, so get a verse from him now and then, though I have no objection as well as I can to bear the burden of the business. You know that my pretensions to musical taste are merely a few of Nature's instincts, untaught and untutored by art. For this reason many musical compositions, particularly where much of the merit lies in counterpoint, however they may transport and ravish the ears of your connoisseurs, affect my simple lug no otherwise than melodious din. On the other hand, by way of amends, I am delighted with many little melodies, which the learned musician despises as silly and insipid. I do not know whether the old air "Hey tuttie taitie," may rank among this number, but well I know that, with Fraser's hautboy, it has often filled my eye with tears. There is a tradition which I have met with in many places of Scotland, that it was Robert Bruce's march at the battle of Bannockburn. This thought in my solitary wanderings, warmed me to a pitch of enthusiasm on the theme of liberty and independence, which I Robert Burns to Mr. Thompson-Origin of "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace Bled." threw into a kind of Scottish ode, fitted to the air, that one might suppose to be the gallant Royal Scot's address to his heroic followers on that eventful morning. "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled," etc.* So may God ever defend the cause of truth and liberty as he did that day! Amen. P. S. I showed the air to Urbani, who was highly pleased with it, and begged me to make soft verses for it; but I had no idea of giving myself any trouble on the subject, till the accidental recollection of that glorious struggle for freedom, associated with the glowing ideas of some other struggles of the same nature, not quite so ancient, roused my rhyming mania. Clark's set of the tune, with his bass, you will find in the museum, though I am afraid that the air is not what will entitle it to a place in your elegant selection. *This noble lyric was conceived by the poet during a storm, among the wilds of Glenken in Galloway. The first two stanzas, as they stood in the poet's manuscript, were suppressed by the advice of some critical friends. As they are not found in many editions, they are reproduced here: "At Bannockburn the English lay; "But the sun broke through the heath, His heralds thus addressed: |