Review and Lift of New Publications.

victims to the confummate and wicked artifi-
ces of Mrs. Rudd.

PUBLICATIONS THIS MONTH
Befides thofe that have been reviewed.

THE BRITISH THEATRE.

48
strongly of the hot-beds in the neighbourhood
of the piazza, and a lady of quality may ima-
gine fcolding her fervants and dependants
may conduce to her health by opening her
lungs, but people of that rank always like to
hear that fpecies of oratory confined entirely
to their domeftic retirements.

Critique on the Duenna, and Silent Woman.

These hints are merely fuggefted to the author, that he may avoid fuch wanton violations of propriety, when he fhall next think proper to write for the ftage: his expreffions might befides be frequently better chofen, and the humour, though generally arifing from character and fituation, has not much novelty to recommend it: neither can we fee what purpofe the bacchanal vefpers of the order of St. Anthony can poffibly answer; we will venture to fay, they are not founded in fact, nor fupported by probability, and we may prefume that the author by his education, or his habits, is not difpofed to adopt the opinion of that pious reformer, Mr. Pain, that popery is daily gaining ground in this country. Such a fcene might have a very proper effect towards the latter end of King Charles, or during the reign of James the Second, but at prefent, we think this pious fraud totally unneceffary. It now appears as an excrefcence shot out by the excess of the author's zeal, or the exuberance of his invention; it may indeed fit any other play as well as the Duenna, when the fcene is laid in a popith country.

Very little is trufted to the ability of the performers, except the characters of Ifaac the Jew, and the Duenna. To enter into a full view of the excellencies of Mr. Quick, in the character of Ifaac, would much exceed the limits we have prescribed to ourselves. It is enough to fay, that he plays it in the full fpirit the author wrote; he is not only and characteristic animated, humourous, throughout, but he is perfectly chaste and correct, and it is doing him but common juftice to obferve, that the managers, the author, and the public ftand equally indebted to him for their fuccefs and entertainment.

Mrs. Green is little inferior in the part of the Duenna, to her difappointed enraged lo

ver.

The firft fcene between Ifaac and his lovely Enamorata is not only one of the most laughable and entertaining, but one of the best played we ever faw.

Mrs. Mattocks as ufual fung agreeably, and performed the part of Louifa with her ual fpirit and judgment.

Mr. Leoni made up for his want of every thing elfe, by finging in a manner fufficient to create jealoufy and envy in the breafts of some of the most celebrated cafirati at the Haymarket.

Mr. Wilfon acquitted himself extremely well in Don Jerome; he fhould endeavour to correct the convolfive motions and unnatural fhrugs in his arms and thoulders. The reft were lo tame and unanimated as ingers, and

Jan.

⚫fo aukward as players, that the greatest favour
we can fhew them is, to pass them over
fub filentio, left on cafting up the fum total,
the balance fhould apppear confiderably
against them.

Jan. 15. ON Saturday evening Ben
Jonfon's comedy of the Silent Woman
altered by Mr. Colman, was revived at Drury-
Lane. This comedy was efteemed by his
cotemporaries one of the best, and by that
great genius and incomparable judge, Mr.
Dryden, one of the most perfect models of
dramatic compofition, then extant in the
English language. Ben was well acquainted
with the Greek and Roman Drama, and had
ftudied with great attention the commentaries
of the ancient critics, and the rules they efta-
blished. He has given frequent proofs of
this in almost all his plays, but in none more
than in the one under confideration.
from his ftrong conception of the ridiculous
in life, his high colouring, and finished like-
neffes, it is more than probable, he would
have fucceeded better in this fpecies of wri-
ting, had he confulted his own genius more,

Yet

and attended lefs to the documents of those
who have vainly attempted in vague phrafesand
loofe floating ideas to embody into a fyftem
of dramatic laws, what, from their nature and
mutability, can never be fixed or realized.
Shakespeare, if he knew thofe bonds, broke
them; if he did not, he proved how much
We would not be
genius is fuperior to art.

here understood to fanction the reveries of
a diftempered brain, or the frothy ebullitions
of a luxuriant fanciful imagination and call
that nature. Man is the fubje&t, buman-
nature is confequently the fource we must
draw from. To defcribe the human heart,
as actuated from within, or affected from
without, and ftp it of its various coverings;
to analyfe and mark the human mind in its
innumerable operations; to connect those
with the manners, habits, humours, and pre-
vailing follies of the times, are the true qua-
lifications of a dramatic writer. Ben Jon-
fon was certainly poffeffed of thofe talents,
but he as certainly facrificed too much to the
opinion of others, and the prevailing tafte of
the age in which he wrote. On the other
hand, he too frequently indulged his genius,
and gave way to the impreffions he received
at an early period of his life. As a modern
author juftly obferves, "his wit was fome-
times low, and his humour exceffive;" fo
that while his rigid notions of the Drama
forbad him to draw with a masterly hand af-
ter the models which nature daily prefented,
his juvenile habits led his attention to ob-
jects not always the best felected, or worthy
of his pen.
Ben was befides a pedant, as
well as a scholar, and like his cotemporary
Cervantes, was tinctured with the very folly
which was the fixed object of his mo pointed
ridicule.

Thefe,

1776.

Critique on the Discovery.

Thefe, we take it, were fome of the chief reafons, that Jonfon's plays do not bear the high reputation they did for almost a century after they were written; and will remain, we may venture to predict, an infurmountable bar to their ever recovering their former reputation, except where indeed they happen to be uncommonly well-fupported in the reprefentation; which, truth compels us to say, was not the cafe on Saturday evening. Another canfe why the works of Jonfon and the writers of that age will always be cooly received, by a great majority of the young and old folks, which usually frequent our Theatres, is, being totally ignorant of the prevailing manners of the court and city, in the reign of Elizabeth and James. This may be readily conceived, when even the rufticity of Sir Francis Wronghead is almost become obfolete. There are very few members, if any, in the House of Commons, if they were to fit now for the picture, would give a tolerable likeness, though we that Vanbrugh copied faithfully from nature, are perfectly fatisfied and cloathed his portrait with manners and habits really exifting in the reign of George I.

Mr. Colman feems to have executed his plan very haftily. The play in its prefent form, is in our opinion unfkilfully mutilated, and disfigured. It is neither Ben Jonson's, nor Colman's; but remains of the doubtful gender. The parts were not judiciously cast, and the tranfpofition of the fcenes, fo highly extolled by the critics of the day, is far from being intitled to the commendations fo la vishly bestowed on it.

Jan. 16. LAST night, a young gentleman (a Mr. Webster) made his first appearance at Covent-Garden, in the character of Young Norval in the tragedy of Douglas. He was uncommonly well received, for a firft appearance, and feems to be poffeffed of great merit. His talents at the firft blush certainly will secure him a first place, as a fecond rate actor; and if feeling and extent of voice, easy action, and grace of deportment should come to his aid, he will become a most valuable acquifition to the stage.

Jan. 22 A comedy called The Difcovery written by Mrs. Sheridan, which has been very properly laid afide for feveral years, was on Saturday night last revived at Drurylane. This piece resembles a garden uncul

49

tivated and neglected, with here and there a flower hidden or choaked up by weeds. The audience are taught to expect a difcovery by the name, but that is all they are permitted to know, till the last act, when quite terefting scenes, one trial more is made of tired and jaded by a fucceffion of dull unininto the last act; which we do not hesitate their patience, by crowding all the business difgufting we ever remember to have feen; to pronounce, one of the most provokingly but in which, the authorefs is prodigiously lavifh of her favours. To Lord Medway, tune; to his fon, the Colonel, a fortune and an old profligate nobleman, the gives a fora wife; to Mrs. Knightly, a young rich ifh old man for a poufe; to Louifa Medway, widow, and the beroine of the piece, a foola fortune and a husband, and to Mifs Richly, a fortune and Colonel Medway. This is all effected by the mere powers of magic; if not, by powers as wonderful and improbable s that is, by Lord Medway's being the father of Mrs. Knightly. tugal to debauch a young lady. The young His lordship, to bring about this ftrange cataftrophe, is fent to Por Knightly; and Mrs. Knightly marries Sir lady brings forth a child; this child is Mrs. Anthony Branville, a crazy humorist, old enough to be her grandfather. Sir Anthony's nephew, who remains behind the fcenes to this minute, receives a fortune from his unMrs. Knightly gives her fifter, Mifs Richly, cle, and gives his hand to Louifa Medway, amply provided for, but poor Lady Flutter, half her fortune; and in fhort, every one is who is deftined to spend the remainder of lefs coxcomb. The play notwithstanding its her days with a paffionate, pofitive, brainnumerous defects is not without a confiderable deal of merit. The character of Lady Flutter well delineated, and touched in fome places by a very delicate and masterly hand; fo is that of Lord Medway, in a se .condary degree; but it has lefs novelty. Sir ftyle, yet the character is far from being imAnthony Brainville is out of the common probable or ill conceived. There is not indeed one ill drawn character in the piece; the great fault is, that they seem scarcely to bear the conclufion, they are all made happy, the leaft relation to each other, and that in and connected by the tendereft tyes, at the by the creative powers of antecedent procreawill, grace and mere motion of the authorefs,

tion.

50

POETICAL ESSAYS in JANUARY, 1776.

III.

My lazy hours I freely fpend,
Without one grain of sense,
I crack a joke with every friend,
And thus I ufe my pence.

H. L. M.

She courts you to be free:

Submiffive hear her foft command,

But now we bring him forth with dread and

doubt,

And fear his learned focks are quite worn out.
The fubtle Alchemift grows obfolete,
And Drugger's humour scarcely keeps him
Sweet.

To-night, if you will feaft your eyes and

ears,

Go back in fancy near two hundred years;
A play of ruffs and farthingales review,
Old English fashions fuch as then were new!
Drive not Tom Otter's bull and bears away;
Worfe bull and bears difgrace the prefent day.
On fair collegiates let no critics frown!
A ladies club ftill holds its rank in town.
If modern cooks, who nightly treat the pit,
Do not quite cloy, and furfeit you with wit,
From the old kitchen please to pick a bit!
If once with hearty ftomachs to regale

On old Ben Jonson's fare, tho' fomewhat
ftale,

A meal on Bobadil you deign'd to make,
Take Epicene for his and Kitely's fake!

A PASTORAL ELEGY on the Death of the
late George Lord Lyttelton.

1.

YE bowers of Hagley, where the Graces

rove,

Nor forceunwilling vengeance from a parent's Lave mid your springs, or round

hand."

Hear her, ye wife, to duty true,

And teach the reft to feel;

Nor let the madness of a few
Diftrefs the public weal!

So fhall the opening year affume
Time's faireft child, a happier bloom;
The white-wing'd hours fhall lightly move,
The fun with added luftre fhine!
"To err is human."-Let us prove,
"Forgiveness is divine!"

PROLOGUE

To the reviv'd Comedy of EPICOENE; or
the SILENT WOMAN.

Written by GEORGE COLMAN.
APPY the foaring bard, who boldly
wooes,

HA

And wins the favour of the Tragic Muse!
He from the grave may call the mighty dead,
In bufkins and blank verfe the ftage to tread ;
On Pompeys and old Cæfars rife to fame,
And join the poet's to th' hiftorian's name.
The comic wit, alas! whofe eagle eyes
Pierce nature thro' and mock the times dif-
guife,

Whofe pencil living follies brings to view,
Survives thofe follies, and his portraits too;
Like ftar gazers deplore his luckless fate,
For laft year's almanacks are out of date.
"The Fox, the Alchemift, the Silent Wo-
[man."
"Done by Ben Jonfon, are out-done by no
Thus fay in rough, but panegyric rhimes,
The wits and critics of our author's times,

man,

your

vallies [grove,

play,
Shed all your fweets, defpoil each fragrant
In balmy ruins fhroud your fhepherd's clay.
Mourn, widow'd Graces, every pleasure fled.
E'en Virtue mourns, for Lycidas is dead.

II.

That Lycidas, who whilom used to lead
Your fportive train to wind the mazy ftream;
Who lov'd your steps o'er Hagley's lawn to
[gleam.
tread,

And pierced each grove with your enliv'ning
Mourn hapless fhades, decline each flower

its head,

The pride of virtue, Lycidas is dead.
III.

That Lycidas, by every muse adored,
Whole fiiver harp to often tuned their praise;
Whofe fix'd attention liberal arts explored;
Who did to wisdom lafting trophies raise.

Mourn, Mufes, mourn, the gentlest spirit
fled.

Mild Wifdom mourns, for Lycidas is dead.
IV.

That Lycidas, whose noble bofom glow'd
With patriot fondness for his country's weal;
He, from whofe lips perfuafive reason flow'd,
Whose polish'd truths could rapt attention
freal.

[fled.

Mourn Britain, mourn, the firmeft patriot
Bright Honour mourn, for Lycidas is dead,
V.

That Lycidas, whofe gentle nature felt
The pains and forrows that were not his own;
Who ne'er denied when trembling anguish
knelt,

But paid with ready joy the facred loan.
Mourn,

POETICAL ESSAYS in JANUARY, 1776.

Mourn, Mercy, mourn the tend'reft spirit