HOME. 



n^tnf, right to expect. It had the additional advantage of 

 John. good acting, and of two solemn musical processions. 

 "*"Y~" 1 *' But the intrinsic merit of the piece could not secure to 

 it a lasting popularity. On perusing it, the poet Gray 

 writes this melancholy sentence to Dr Warton. " I cry 

 to think that it should be by the author of Dou< i .-. 

 Why, it is all modern Greek. The story is an antique 

 statue, painted white and red, frigid, and dressed in a 

 negligee, made by a mantuamaker of Yorkshire." Mr 

 Home's third tragedy was the Siege of Aquileia. It 

 was acted with indifferent success at Drury Lane, in 

 17()0. From the title, we should expect, that the au- 

 thor would have adhered, with general fidelity, to the 

 circumstances, as they are recorded in history, of the de- 

 fence of that city by the legions of Gordianus, against 

 th gigantic tyrant Maximin ; but, in reality, the inci- 

 dents of the play agree much nearer with the history of 

 the Siege of Berwick, defended by Seton against the 

 arms of Edward III.; and it was conjectured, with 

 some appearance of plausibility, that Mr Home had 

 received his first hint from the latter story ; but dislik- 

 ing to bring Edward the Third before an English au- 

 dience, in the light of a brutal tyrant, in which the 

 siege of Berwick too strongly exhibited him, he thought 

 proper to preserve the circumstances only under the 

 disguise of more ancient names. This play is regular 

 in its structure, and the language in some passages is 

 fine ; but, on the whole, the incidents are too lew, the 

 distress too unvaried, and the catastrophe too clearly 

 anticipated. Mr Home's muse cannot be said to have 

 prospered beyond the time when she was rich enough 

 to lend images to Otsian. The shrieking of the spirit 

 of the waters was an admired expression in the de- 

 ecription of the tempestuous night in Douglas, which 

 seems to anticipate much of the spiritual imagery of 

 Macpherson. Gray the poet puts a query in one of his 

 letters, whether Home borrowed this from Macpherson, 

 or Macpherson from Home. Without pretending to 

 enter on the wider question of Ossian's authenticity, we 

 ehall only notice that the play of Douglas appeared 

 some years earlier than the fragments ascribed to Os- 

 *ian. The latter, as we have seen, was acted in 1 757 ; 

 Macpherson did not come before the world till 1 760. By 

 the Fatal Discovery, Mr Home's next tragedy, it would 

 eeem that our author was willing to be reimbursed for 

 whatever hints of fancy he had lent to the Gaelic muse, 

 and accordingly he supplied himself in this piece with 

 much of the lamed phraseology of Fingal. But what- 

 ever might be the real demerits of the Fatal Discovery, 

 the London public seems not to have been disposed to 

 receive it with an equitable judgment. To such a 

 height, we are told in the Biographia Dramatica, had 

 party prejudice risen against Mr Home, on account of 

 his enjoying the patronage of the Earl of Bute, that it 

 was found necessary to conceal the author's name du- 

 ring the first nights of its representation ; and, after 

 the twelfth night, Mr Garrick was threatened with ha- 

 ving his house burnt down if he continued it : an in- 

 junction with which the managers thought it advisable 

 to comply. Alonzo, Mr Home's next tragedy, was 

 more successful than any other of hi productions, 

 Douglas alone excepted. It bad a considerable run on 

 it* first appearance, and added much to the rising repu 

 tation of Barry as an actor ; but it never obtained the 

 rank of what is culled a stock play, nor was afterwards 

 performed, except at provincial theatres. The language 

 of the tragedy of A/onzo possesses considerable force 

 .and purity, though the cadence of its versification is 

 JUie all the blank verse of that period, too little varied in 



the pauses, and monotonously concludes the rhythm Home, 

 with every line. The story is also romantic and lucid- John, 

 ly brought out, but it is rather too much like an echo """"IT"" 

 of Douglas. Ormisinda brings us back Lady Randolph. 

 She is not indeed a widow ; but has been forsaken for 

 eighteen years by the husband of her early love, who 

 had groundlessly suspected her virtue. They had mar- 

 ried unknown to her father, and their meetings were 

 in a solitary place ; where a confidential servant, in or- 

 der to give the semblance of protection to Ormisinda, 

 assumed the plume and vesture of a brother. Deceived 

 by this appearance, Alonzo had abandoned her, wan- 

 dered in foreign countries, and returned only in dis- 

 guise to fight with the Moors in behalf of Spain. In 

 his absence Ormisinda has secretly reared his son at a 

 distance from her, and unconscious of his birth. Like 

 Douglas, he bursts from obscurity into martial reputa- 

 tion ; and offers to become her champion without know- 

 ing that she is his parent. Alonzo conquers the Moor- 

 ish champion, throws off his disguise, declares his mar- 

 riage with her from whom he has been eighteen years 

 separated, and, in a scene which is pretty striking, de- 

 mands, as the reward of his services, that the king shall 

 sentence her, his own daughter, to die. The conscious 

 innocence of Ormisinda, the agony of her wrongs, 

 the bursts of her affection towards Alonzo, and her 

 maternal feelings at the sight of her boy rushing to 

 combat with his unknown father, compose a strong 

 situation of terror and pity ; and the moment when she 

 throws herself between their swords, is one of rivet- 

 ting interest. It may be questioned, however, if the 

 effect would not have been much better had the termi- 

 nation been fortunate. In plots where a happy denoue- 

 ment would not be merely satisfactory, but joyous and 

 exultingly triumphant, the policy of killing the tragic 

 victims is very doubtful. Ormisinda was not like La- 

 dy Randolph, who, though her son was restored, had 

 only a second and apparently not a distractedly beloved 

 lord to be reconciled with ; she had all the pledges of 

 filial, maternal, and conjugal love to redeem, as well as 

 honour, and the inheritance of a throne ; and the cata- 

 strophe that severs her from all those blessings, seems 

 to depend more on the tragical resolution of the poet, 

 than on that overawing falaitty which gives dignity to 

 dramatic xlavgltler. 



Alfred, our author's last tragedy, was acted in Covent 

 Garden in 1778, but was only performed for three 

 nights. 



It is impossible to follow this detail of Mr Home's 

 dramatic career, without a melancholy reflection on the 

 power of genius itself being included in the sentence 

 of mutability which is passed on all earthly blessings. 

 With Alfred he took his leave of the stage, and retired 

 to Scotland, where he continued to reside during the 

 greater part of his remaining life. In 1 778, when the 

 late Duke of Buccleugh raised a regiment, under the 

 name of Fencibles, Mr Home received a captain's coin- 

 mission, which he held till the peace. A few years be- 

 fore his death, he published the History of llic Rebel- 

 linn in Scotland in 174-5: a work of which great expec- 

 tations were formed ; but whether he delayed it until 

 his powers of mind had lost their vigour, for he was 

 now sevf-nty-eight, or did not feel himself at liberty to 

 use all his materials, the public was not satisfied. For 

 a considerable time before his death his mental facul- 

 ties were impaired, and his health was much affected 

 by a dangerous fall from his horse. He died at Mer- 

 chiston house, on the 4th September 1608, at the ad. 

 vanced age of eighty- five. () 



