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• With respect to fprightly turns and poignancy of wit, the prologues of Dryden have not been equalled. The reader may find twenty of them in the first edition of the firft volume of Tonfon's Mifcellanies. Many of them were • written on occafion of the players going to Oxford; a cuftom, for the neglect of which no good reafon can be affigned, except, perhaps, that even the players must now, forfooth, follow the contemptable cant of decrying that moft learned Univerfity, and of doing nothing that may contribute to its pleasure and emolument.'

From fome former paffages in this Effay, we fufpected that the Author had been an Oxonian; but the laft quotation is a proof, next to demonftration, that he is little acquainted with that most learned univerfity; otherwife he muft have known, that the Vice-Chancellors alone have the power of allowing plays to be acted in that city, and within five miles of it; and that, therefore, thofe Gentlemen, and not they who decry the university, would feem reprehenfible if the Oxonians are either deprived of pleasure or emolument. But to do justice to all, the Vice-Chancellors may be vindicated in their prohibition of plays; it was intended to prevent the youth from being debauched, and other bad confequences. Perhaps if plays could now be performed without women, as formerly, Oxford might again have theatrical reprefentations.

The Prologue leads the Critic to confider the Tragedy itself, which he blames as deftitute of action, pathos, and even character, and as taking up more time than it needed; but he does not do juftice to the fublimity of fome of the speeches, and the philofophical precision of the fentiments. The fimile of Mount Atlas, and of the traveller fmothered in the defert, he allows to be in character, but thinks them fufficiently obvious. That of the mountain is, indeed, obvious, and has it the lefs propriety on that account? But how can the fimile of the traveller be ftiled obvious, when it is the first of the kind in the English tongue? After all, both the fimilies, in our opinion, are out of place, as the inftances are few, where a comparison can be introduced in tragedy with any fort of propriety.

The Effayift thinks the loves of Marcia and Juba, of Lucia and Portius, are vicious and infipid Epifodes; and fays, they debase the dignity, and destroy the unity, of the fable.' In

Such bad confequences have actually happened in that very Unive:fity; of which inftances might be mentioned.

deed,

deed, where love is only the secondary paffion, in a play, it can never greatly affect.

From his criticism on this tragedy, the Author proeeds to confider Mr. Addison's other writings. The Letter from Italy he thinks no way equal to a fubject fo fruitful of genuine poetry, and which might have warmed the most cold and correct ima gination. One would have expected (adds he) a young traveller, in the height of his genius and judgment, would have broke out into fome ftrokes of enthufiafm. With what flatnefs and unfeelingness has he spoken of ftatuary and painting? Raphael never received a more phlegmatick elo6 gy. The flavery and fuperftition of the prefent Romanst are well touched upon, towards the conclufion; but I will ⚫ venture to name a little piece, on a parallel fubject, that ⚫ greatly excels this celebrated Letter, and in which are as • much lively and original imagery, strong painting, and manly fentiments of freedom, as I have ever read in our language. It is a Copy of Verfes written at Virgil's tomb, and printed in Dodfley's fourth volume of Mifcellanies."

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Never was any thing more unjust than the character here given us of Mr. Addifon's Letter from Italy. What can be more poetical than his description of the Italian rivers, and especially of the Po?

Fir'd with a thoufand raptures I furvey
Eridanus through flowery meadows ftray,
The King of Floods! that rolling o'er the plains,
The tow'ring Alps of half their moisture drains,
And proudly fwoln with a whole winter's fnows,
Distributes wealth and plenty where he flows.

What more beautiful than

Sometimes, mifguided by the tuneful throng,
I look for streams immortaliz'd in song;

That loft in filence and oblivion lie,

Dumb are their fountains, and their channels dry!
Yet run for ever by the Mufe's skill,

And in the smooth defcription murmur ftill.

Nor is the defcription of the Tyber lefs picturesque. This however, we shall, omit together with his elegantly fublime compliment to Lord Hallifax, and only afk the impartial reader, whether the following lines are deftitute of poetical enthusiasm.

See how the golden groves around me smile,
That fhun the coaft of Britain's stormy isle,
Or when transplanted, and preferved with care,
Curfe the cold clime, and ftarve in northern air.

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Here kindly warmth their mounting juice ferments
To nobler taftes, and more exalted scents:
E'en the rough rocks with tender myrtle bloom,
And trodden weeds send out a rich perfume.
Bear me fone God to Baia's gentle feats,
Or cover me in Umbria's green retreats ;
Where western gales eternally refide,
And all the feafons lavish all their pride:
Blooms, and fruits, and flowers, together rife
And the whole year in gav confufion lis.

Is not the defcription of the ruins of Rome nobly animated, and particularly the four laft lines?

Where the old Romans deathless acts difplay'd,

Their base degenerate progeny upbraid:

Whole rivers here forfake the fields below,

And, wond'ring at their height, through airy channels flow*.
Nor can we think Mr. Addison's verses on Statuary, and on
Raphael, fo flat and unfeeling as the Critic represents them.
Still to new scenes my wandering Mufe retires,
And the dumb show of breathing rocks admires;
Where the finooth chiffel all its force has thown,
And foftned into flesh the rugged flone.
In folemn filence, a majestic band,

Heroes, and Gods, and Roman Confuls ftand.
Stern tyrants, whom their cruelties renown,
And Emperors in Parian marble frown;

While the bright Dames to whom they humbly fu'd,

Still show the charms that their proud hearts fubdu'd.

If the encomium on Raphael is lefs animated, the following lines, however, exhibit a picture more lively and glowing than any that ever flowed from the pencil of that wonderful artist: as the moral, too, is well worthy of a Briton.

How has kind Heav'n adorn'd the happy land,
And scatter'd bleffings with a wasteful hand!
But what avail her unexhaufled flores,
Her blooming mountains, and her funny shores,
With all the gifts that heaven and earth impart,
The fmiles of nature, and the charms of art,
While proud Oppreffion in her vallies reigns,
And Tyranny ufurps her happy plains?
The poor inhabitent beholds in vain
The red ning orange, and the fwelling grain;
Foylefs be fees the growing oils and wines,
And in the myrtle's fragrant fade repines;
Starves, in the midst of nature's bounty curft,
And in the loaden vineyard dies for thirst.-
The aqueducts.

Indeed the flavery and fuperftition of the Romans are so well touched upon, towards the conclufion, that none but the author of the verfes he fets in competition with Addison, or the Author's very partial friend, could ever have dream'd of the parallel; yet are we far from denying that Copy of Verses its due merit.

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That there are many well wrought descriptions,' adds the Critic, and even pathetic ftrokes in the Campaign' (which he elsewhere calls a Gazette in rhyme) it would be ftupidity and malignity to deny. But furely the regular march which the poet has obferved, from one town to another, as if he had been a Commifiary of the army, cannot well be • excufed.'

Mr. Voltaire, however, (whofe judgment our Author, on other occafions, has readily adopted, and whom we all know to be not over partial to the English poets) thought very differently of the Campaign. That fpirited author, after defcribing the battle of Blenheim, thus proceeds; Les remerciments des Chambres du parlement, ceux des villes & des bourgades, les acclamations d' Angleterre furent le premier priz quil recut de la victoire. Le poeme du celebre Addifon, monument plus durable que le palais de Blenheim, eft comptè, par cette nation guerriere et lavante, parmi les recompenfes les plus honorables du Duc de Marlborough. But to return to our Critic; who is fo candid as to allow due praise to fome other parts of Mr. Addifon's works, particularly his profe pieces.

In various parts,' of his profe Effays, are to be found many strokes of genuine and fublime poetry, many marks of a vigorous and exuberant imagination; particularly in the noble Allegory of Pain and Pleasure, the Vifion of Mirza, the Story of Maraton and Yaratilda, of Conftantia • and Theodofius, the beautiful Eaftern Tale of Abdallah • and Balfora, and many others, together with feveral strokes • in the Effay on the Pleafures of the Imagination. After all,

the chief and characteristical excellence of Addison was his • humour; for in humour no mortal has excelled him, except Moliere; witnefs the character of Sir Roger de Coverly, fo original, fo natural, and fo inviolably preferved, particu ⚫larly in the month which the Spectator fpends at his Hall in the country; witnefs alfo the Drummer, that excellent and neglected comedy, that juft picture of life and real man· ners, where the poet never fpeaks in his own person, or to tally drops or forgets a character, for the fake of introducing C a brilliant fimile, or acute remark: where no train is laid for wit; no Jeremys, or Bens, are fuffered to appear."

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The Critic next confiders the Epilogue to Jane Shore, which, he fays, is written with the air of gallantry and raillery, which, by a ftrange perverfion of tafte, the audience expects in all epilogues to the most serious and pathetic plays. To recommend cuckoldom, and palliate adultery, is their ufual intent.'

This Epilogue leads him to confider Rowe as a writer; and whom he justly reprefents as rather delicate and tender, than ftrong and pathetic; and as foothing us with a tranquil and tender fort of complacency, rather than cleaving the heart with pangs of commiferation. His diftreffes are entirely

founded on the paffion of love. His diction is extremely ⚫ elegant and chafte; and his versification highly melodious. His plays are declamations rather than dialogues; and his characters are general, and undistinguished from each other. < Such a furious character as that of Bajazet is easily drawn ; and let me add, easily acted. There is a want of unity in the fable of Tamerlane. The death's head, dead body, and ftage hung in mourning, in the Fair Penitent, are inartificial and mechanical methods of affecting an audience. In a word, his plays are mufical and pleafing poems, but ⚫ inactive and unmoving tragedies. This of Jane Shore, is, • I think, the moft interefting and affecting of any he has given us; but probability is fadly violated in it, by the ne⚫glect of the unity of time. For a perfon to be supposed to be ftarved during the reprefentation of five acts, is a ftriking inftance of the abfurdity of this violation. In this piece, as in all of Rowe's, are many florid fpeeches, utterly inconfiftent with the ftate and circumftances of the diftrefsful perfonages who speak them.' Of this, as he gives fome inftances, fo does he also candidly quote fome that are extremely natural and tender. What Shore answers to her huf band, when he asks her movingly,

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Why doft thou fix thy dying eyes upon me
With fuch an earnest, fuch a piteous look,
As if thy heart was full of fome fad meaning
Thou couldst not speak ?—

Is, he oberves, pathetic to a great degree; and
Forgive me, but forgive me!—

Are words, adds he, that far exceed the most pompous de clamations of Cato, The interview between Jane Shore and Alicia, in the middle of this act, (continues the Critic) is also very affecting: where the madness of Alicia is well painted. But of all representations of madnefs, that of Clemen

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