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and the children of her children.- Terror implore him not to forsake me Thou knowest, for I have often re- in the agonies of death. lated it to thee, the state of Adam at Seth. 0, my beloved father, I will the moment of his creation : now how die with thee. Why dost thou leave changed! how altered !-- now I must me, father? die: my children too must die; and I Adam. To adore the power of God.. their father must bring that death upon them. O, that thought lies as heavy
Eighth Scene, as a mountain on me: it is a thought
SeTh / solus). most horrible. Go, my son, and cheer my Selima: I will retire, and, close
0, inexpressible grief! not to be to the altar, make myself a grave.
pamed by hunjan lips: it will prey on Seth. I will not leave thee, norshalt my life till my bones are laid with his. thou make for thyself a grave:-1, I
O thou first and best of fathers-father conjure thee, by the mercy of that of the yet unborn; parent of the liuBeing who has hitherto supported death-the day of the death of my
man race; this day is the day of his thee, make not for thyself a grave,
Adam. Abel is buried there, and father. How soon has it arrived, atthere will I be buried too. Would tended with all its terrors, to ask 'me, you wish to see me mouldering before with a warning voice, if in my hear: your eyes?
I fear the Almighty. O, I will repair Şeth. O! thou great God, whose to niy father, and, by his side, pro. judgment is suspended over us!
strate myself before the altar. ''his Adam. Tlie terrors of the Almighty trembling arm shall assist him to dig are around me: I must avert my face bis grave. O! the grave of my father? from thee, my son. It is a day ofierror. and thou terrible voice,- " Ere the What is it that moves yönder :-Dosť sun has set behind yon cedar wood!" thou not sce the socks tremble, my SECOND ACT.- First Scene. son? Le approaches ! - Dost thou pot hear his steps? Dost thou net now
ADAM. SETH. · behold low violently the hill near our Adam (who stands leaning on the al.
hut is agitated! On that hill be stands. tar, close to his grave). It is terrible, Dost thou not behold him in bis ter- my son. Here, indeed, the rose spreads rors clad:
its fragrance, and the cedar lifts its Seth. Darkness surrounds me!-my branches on high; but still it is tervision is dimmed; but I can bear. rible. Here I must sink into cor
Adam fto Seth). Then hear him ruption : 1, whó sprang forth from the and me. (To the Angel of Death) I plastic hand of the Almighiy; 1; unknow thy tontsteps weil, Messenger of born of mortal; I, the first of beings, the Judgment!' Angel of Death! and Eden's blissful tenant.
Now Destrover-here ain l.
corruption, with its dread attendants, The Angel of Death. Thus Ile says, stands before me. My eye grows de: -Ile who trou dust created thee man, my arm trembles: with difficulty lin. cre the sun has set behind yon cedar hale the breath of life. I feel the chillwood, ihou shalt die the death. Many hess of death creeping slewly over me: of thy sace will die; many will sink I feel it bere-liere in my heart--now into death in peace; but, thou shalt anxiously throbbing with the last pule die the death. When I return, and of life. I shall die the death: Ishall with my presence shake the-e rochs, not sink into death, as sleep falls on that they together fall, - theo thun the pres of the infant. My eye
still shalt die. Thine eye will become dark, grows dimmer: come, my son, ele and thou shalt not see;. but thine ear creation, with all its fuir forms, is will hear the thundering roar of the closed upon me, lei se once more falling rocks, ere the sun has set be. surter one litile paii of the glorious hind von cedar wood.
carth--uy maternal liud: open wirie Adam. Tell Him, who from sout the chur vi my bui, and let the procreated me man, and who has visited spect le towards Laien. •me with his judgment, that I will pio- Seth. Youder lie the mountains of strate myself before him, and adore Eden. his power. And 0, thou Angel of Adam. I cannot sce the mountains.
Is the sun wholly covered with clouds, strikes terror to my soul! Thou art my son ?
terribly pale, my father: I did not see Seth. There are many clouds, and Abel in his death, but I have seen a heavily they roll; but the sun is not youth, who died, ere a few summers wholly covered.
had given strength to his form, and Adam. Is it far from the cedarwood? whose death was concealed from but do not tell me; in a short time I you,will ask thee again.
Adam. Then shall I, with my Abel, Seth. Now, by heavy clouds, the sun meet one more of my children? Ah! is obscured, black, as when the tem- they have, perhaps, concealed, both pest rages.
from thee and me, the death of many. Adam. I see them not; por, when Did the youth fear the Almighty? the sun again emerges, shall I behold Seth. His soul was good. No fear it: for, when I once again return to my pervaded me when he died, for he grave, I shall never leave it. Come, died with the smile of an angel: but Ay son, let me rest on tlice.
I could not support the view of him Seth. My father!
when he was dead. -- But Selima Adam. Ye beautiful plains!.ye lofty comes. mountains! ye cool amd shady vallies! Adam. Ah! Sunim, my younger ye flowers of the fields, which yield to son!--my Sunim is not yet found. the foot of the wanderer! ye trees,
Second Scene. which, on the mountain's top, penetrate the clouds! ye blissful fields, in
SELIMA. The Former. which, with joy, I have wandered; in
Selima. Be not angry, my father, which I johaled life and health in that I again trespass against your which I have been so long and so often commands: but hear me, my father. happy; in which I have seen all my chil. There is a man walking round our dren,and so many living beings around but,ea man, such as before I have me! And thou, superior to all, thou never seen. He says, he comes to Eden-but I cannnt speak the bliss [ Adam: but, when I view him, a ter.. there enjoyed; for now, with the re- sible shivering passes over me. Some membrance of that bliss, inust my tears men must elsewhere reside, who are be mingled; and, in this solemn hour, not thy sons; for Adam's son is this with my tears I will not profane it. man not. On this day, from all ye beloved ob
Adam, How is this man formid, jects, I take my last farewel :-on this Selima? dav, on which I cease to be a mortal.
Selima. Tall, with a threatening Yet, ye will not cease to bear the mien. His eyes are supk, and wildly marks of the curse which, with my they roll about, as if in search of some mortality, was pronounced upon you. particular object. He has covered I will retire, my son, for I can now bimself with spotted skins; and, in scarcely distinguish the river from the his hand, he bears a heavy knotted plain What will my feelings be, club. He seems burnt by the sun, when I shall no longer be able to dis- and yet looks pale; but not so pale as tinguish the best of my sons? ( Aside) thou art, my father. he' trembles; I must collect myself.
Adam. Did not the man uncover (To Seth) I am fearful that Selima his forehead? will join us : 0, how could I support
Selima. Yes, he did expose it; and the grief and melancholy of that ten- on it there was something, which I der innocent!
cannot describe; for I trembled as I Seth. I can no longer conceal it beheld it :-it appeared as if it had from you, my father, I have lately been scorched by lightning. seen Selima pass several times anxious- Adam. It is Cain! Seth, it is Cain! ly before the hut.
The Almighty has sent him to make Adam. Tell me, my son, shall I be my death still more bitter. Go, and able to conceal from her the melan- learn if it be he: go, and tell him to choly truth? Sits the paleness of death betake himself to the woods; that. I already on my cheeks? Thou turnest will not view his face: but, if he be away from me!
resolved to come, then has God seut Seth. Each word thou speakest him hither, and I have merited it: UNIVERSAL MAG. VOL. XIV, 2 A
but, first conceal the altar, that he may then I will answer thipe. Who is the not view his brother's blood.
man who conducted me bither?
Adam. It is my second son, Seth. Third Scene.
Cain. I require not thy compassion: Selima. Oh! my father! what abyss it is thy third son. And now I will is that before the altar?
answer thee:- I am come, Adam, to Adam. Hast thou never yet beheld
revenge myself on thee. a grave, Selima.
Seth. Wilt thou also murder my Selima. What is a grave, my father? father?
Adam ( aside). O, day of 'terror!. Cain. Ere thou wert born, was I Cain comes, and this innocent, be deeply sunk in misery: leave Adam loved child betore me.
and myself together; I will not kill Selima, 0, speak to me, my father: thy father. thou art not angry with me: thou Adam. What cause hast thou, Cain, wert wont to call me thy Selima.
to revenge thyself on me? Adam. Thou art my Selima, my Cain. That thou gavest me existmuch beloved daughter. Selima. But, thou saidst, my father,
Adam. For that reason, iny firstthat Cain was come to make thy born son ? death still more bitter :-Oh! I can
Cain. Yes; and that I have murnot express in yself: thou wilt not die, dered my brother Abel; that his blood my father?
cries aloud to the throne of the AlAdam. Be not so afflicted, my Se: mighty; that among all the 'children lima; thou knowest that God has told which have been born to thee, I am us, that we are made of dust, and that the most miserable of all that ever will to dust we shall return. My hairs have be born to thee: the most wretched, now long been grey; e'en they were that, burthened with this misery, I grey before thou wert born.
O, that must stalk the earth and find no restCain may not afflict me too much ing-place; nor even in Heaven shall I to-day!
find it: therefore I will revenge my. Selima. O! for the sake of thy better self on thee. sons; for the sake of Abel, of Seth,and
Adam. Ere I commanded thee to Heman; for the sake of the infants shun my presence for ever, often have whom thou wilt bless, for the first I answered thy complaints; but never time, this day: for their sakes, 0 die bast thou so related them to me as on not, my father!
this most terrible of all my days. Adam. Weep not, my dear daughter.
Cain. Thou hast never answered me Rise, they approach.
them sufficiently; and, if thou this Fourth Scene.
day dost feel how strong and true they
are, still that is not the revenge I seek. Cain. Seth. The Former.
For years, for many long and dismal Cain, Art thou Adam? Thou wert years, have I resolved to revenge mynot wont to turn pale at the sight of self on thee; and my revenge shall be those whom thou hast made miserable. keen, dreadful, and unparalleled :
Adam. Spare, at least, that weeping this day will I execute it. innocent, my Selima.
Seth. If thy rage dims not thy viCain. Has innocence e'er dwelt up- sion, look, Cain, o look on bis grey on the earth since Adam was a fa- hairs ! ther?
Cain. Be he grey or bald, I am the Adam (to Selima). Leave us, my most wretched of his children, I will daughter: Seth shall call thee when revenge myself-revenge myself op Cain hath departed.
him, for to him I owe my existence,
Adam (to Seth). His and my Judge Fifth Scene.
has sent him hither. What is then ADAM. Cain. Seth.
thy revenge, Cain? Adam. Why hast thou travsgressed Cain. I will curse thee. my orders ? Why, with thy presence, Adam. That is too inuch, my son, bast thou disturbed the tranquillity of Cain: curse thy father not for the
sake of that salvation which thou still Cain. First answer me one question, mayst fipd, curse Adam not.
Cain. I will curse thee.
men themselves, for not giving them Adam. Come then, and I will shew the means to avoid superstition.thee the place where thou shalt curse Wherefore if their zeal has been inine. Come, this is thy father's grave: discreet, their intention has been this day is the day of my death : it has good : and we may venture to affirm, been announced to me by an angel of from the eagerness they shewed in death.
embracing religion and cleaving so Cain. And what altar is that? close to it under all the disadvantages Seth. O, thou most unfortunate of it appeared to them in, they would men, because thou art the most cri- have as firmly adhered to true piety minal! that is Abel's altar, and on had they obtained a clearer light of it. these stones his blood.
What should hinder us from regu. Cain. The rage of Hell rises in me! lating our minds by the faith and That altar, thai terrible aitar, lies like discipline of Christ and his church? a rock upon me. Where am I? Where If we laid the foundation of philosois Adam? Hear me, Adain: my curse phy and scholastic divinity; should begins :-On the day on which thou : we not be as able as the men, in the wilt die, Adam-on the last of thy progress of our studies, to understand, davs, may the agonics of seven thou- compare and interpret the holy scripsand dying mortals seize thee: may tures, the writings of the fathers and the image of corruption
the sacred canons? Might we not quaAdam. It is too much; it is too lify our minds and hearts to compose much, my first born. Now I fully religious works, to preach, to confute comprehend thee, thou sentence of novelties, to regulate ourselves and death, which above was pronounced others, to remove their scruples, and upon me: I understand it wholly- to resolve cases of conscience, as well Cease, O) cease, my first-born son! as the most learned casuists living?
Cain, Ah! Ah! have I shed my Thus far I insist, there is no science father's blood? Where am I? Who or public office in a state, which will lead me from this appalling scene women are not as much qualified for -who will lead me that I may find by nature as the ablešt of men. With the abyss of Heli? But my father is regard however to divinity, our patuhere!' Is it he bimself? or doth he ral capacity has been restrained by a appear to me? Avert thy face from positive law of God; and therefore inc, that I may fly! (He hastes away), we know better than to lay claim to
R. H. what we could not practise without [To be concluded in our next.} sacrilegious intrusiori
. Though, by the bye, let it be observed that the bar
which our Divine Saviour has put to REPUBLICATION OF
our exercising any religious functions, SEARCE TRACTS. neither bars us from any other public
offices, nor proves us upworthy or
naturally incapable of exercising even WOMAN not inferior to Man. them. That he forbad us those funcCHAPTER VI.
tions proves us naturally apt for them. (Continued from p.104.]
But why he forbad us, it would be presumptuous to enquire. However
divine we receive the gospel with reverence reason, whici carries its own probabiand bumility, and submit to its doc- lity with it and raiber redounds to the trines and precepts in a more exen- bonour than disrepute of our sex: plary manner than the generality of God undoubtedly knew the general thein. I own, some of our sex have tendency of the men to impiery and carried their worship to superstitious irreligion; and therefore why might lengths ; but have not many of the he not conting the functions of remen done so too? And yet the latter ligion to that sex, to attract some of are the most culpable : since the igno- them at least to those duties they bave rance in which the foriner have been such a general apathy for: Especially bred reflects all the reproach on the since the natural propensity of our
PRACTICE sufficiently speaks us ifiutis lawtul to reason at alt upon the
sex to virtue and religion, made it un- her; content to see the work already necessary to add any of those external done to my hand, by that sex itself: helps to his divine grace, in order and therefore refer my readers for a. to win us to what our hearts lead farther account of this true woman 2'5 to.
to what the Reverend Mr. Birch says If then we set custom and preju- of her in the History of the Works of dice aside, where would the oddity the Learned :* which is so much the be to see us dictating sciences from a more to be relied on as it comes from university chair ; since to name but a man ; one of that sex which seems one of a thousand, that foreign young to pique itself with no other degree lady, whose extraordinary merit and of equity, than that of never praising capacity but a few years ago forced a any of ours beyond their desert. If university in Italy to break through the comparison, this candid gentle. the rules of partiality, custom, and man there makes between the talents prejudice, in her favour, to confer on of our sex and his own, should prove her a Doctor's degree, is a living proof too galling for their innate jealousy ; that we are as capable, as any of the let the men excuse him at least, and men, of the highest eminences in the pacify themselves with the reflection sphere of learning, if we had justice on the thanks they all owe him for done us.
giving us this fresh instance, in his It is not so much to do justice to own person, of the possibility of findmy own sex, that I quote this in- ing a man who can ihrow off passion stánce, as to favour the men, by and prejudice, for the sake of truth shewing that it is not absolutely im- and honesty. possible for them to be sometimes We may easily conclude then, that, just, without a 'miracle. Indeed it if our sex, as it hitherto appears, might require, in all probability, the have all the talents requisite to learn labours of a wandering Jew, to pro- and teach those sciences, which qualiduce a few more instances of the like fy men for power and dignity; they equity towards us in that jealous, un- are equally capable of applying their generous sex. But to find many knowledge to practice, in exercising ladies nothing inferior in merit to the that power and dignity. And since, last-mentioned, we need neither the as we have said, this nation has seen pains of running back to antiquity, many glorious instances of women, nor the expence of a voyage to foreign severally qualified to have all public climes. Our own age and country authority centered in them : why may may boast of more than one Sappho, they noi be as qualified at least for the numbers of Cornelias, and no scarcity subordinate offices of ministers of of Schurmans and Daciers. If I state, vice-queens, governesses, secrechose to unite the several excellences taries, privy-counsellors, and treasuof all these illustrious names in one, I rers? Or why may they not, without might quote an Eliza not more to be oddity, be even generals of armies, envied for the towering superiority of and admirals of fleets ? But this will her genius and judgment, than ho- be more proper to consider sepanoured for the use she makes of them. rately. Her early advances in ancient and modern learning in general having
CHAP. VII. raised her above the imitation of the Whether Women are naturally qualimen, as the many excellent virtues,
fied for military offices, or not. added to her extensive knowledge, have secured her the esteem of the I MUST confess, I cannot find how women; it is no wonder that, while the oddity would be greater, to see a the former are forced to admire her lady with a truncheon in her hand, in spite of prejudice, we are at liberty than with a crown on her head; or to do justice to her merit without why it should create more surprise, 10 fearing the suspicion of partiality to see her preside in a council of war, wards her. However, as her own than in a council of state. Why excellence has extorted her just may she not be as capable of heading praise from the mouth of prejudice itself, I shall forbcar to characterise
• For June, 1799.