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Litis, with a fupercilious air,
Last various merit, and declare

indy aris till at top —but icorn that rage
Wet, attacking thee, attacks the age.
Facts, univerfally embracˇd,
Aace provoke our mith, and form our tafte.
Lasion a mation ever hardly us'd,
Bratis.conlurid, wantonly abus'd,

..

dawn their sport, with partial view
notions from the raical few;
a people, as for vices known,
a their country banih'd, feek our

Atky, rowe'er, the flavish chain is broke,
awaken'd, fcorns her ancient yoke :
tike, Moody, we now learn to raile,
En their foibles; from their virtues,

....

Name

thelegion,which our Summer Bayes ys, here and there, contriv'd to raife, 5th vaft hopes, and certain to fucceed nocannot write, and fearce can read. more support the rotten caufe, tum Elliot's worth they reap applaufe; Emtof determines to rely, landed, and let Elliot fly. phy is to well an author fit, ardul, and foes declar'd to wit. sh tongue, fo empty was each head, ay talk'd, fo very little faid,

dull, and yet fo wondrous vain, willing, and unfit to reign, wore, nor would the oath recall, y mafter's foul inform'd them all. ith various difappointments fad, tis only kept from being mad,

the relt great Murphy camebols and wits, the rage of fame. the fons of nonfenfe hail him fire, anthor, manager, and fquire,

bul's ambition ftops not there-tas triumphs perfect, dub him player. a tall, a figure form'd to please, try could charm, depriv'd of eafe; zationless he stands, we all approve;

'tis the thing was made to move! ve, in one dull, deep, unvaried found, rok forth from caverns under ground. ow cheft the low fepulchral note heaves, and struggles in his throat. authors butcher'd give an actor grace, 1 to him refign the foremost place. teattempts, in fome one fav'rite part, the feelings of a manly heart, net features the disguise defy, face loudly gives his tongue the lye. extremes, he knows no happy mean, g mal, or itupidly ferene.

When o'er the ftage he folly's ftandard bore,
Whiit common fenfe foodtrembling atthedoor.

How few are found with real talent, bleis`d!
Fewer with nature's gifts contented reft.
Man from his iphere eccentric ftarts aftray;
All hunt for me, but mot miftake the way.
Bred at St. Omer's to the thuffling trade,
The hopeful youth a jefuit might have made,
With various readings for'd his empty skull,
Learn'd without fenfe, and venerably dull.
Or, at fome banker's defk, like many more,
Content to tell that two and two make four,
His name had itood in city's annals fair,
And prudent dulnef's mark'd him for a mayor.
What then could tempt thee, in a critic age,
Such blooming hopes to forfeit on a Aage?
Could it be worth thy wondrous waste of pains
To publish to the world thy lack of brains?
Or might not reafon e'en to thee have shewn
Thy greateft praife had been to live unknown;
Yet let not vanity, like thine, despair:
Fortune makes folly her peculiar care.

A vacant throne high plac'd in Smithfield view,
To facred dulnefs and her firft-born due;
Thither with hafte in happy hour repair,
Thy birth-right claim, nor fear a rival there.
Shuter himself fhall own thy jufter claim,
And venal Ledgers puff their Murphy's name,
Whilt Vaughan or Dapper, call him which you
will,

Shall blow the trumpet, and give out the bill.

There rule fecure from critics and from fenfe,
Nor once thall genius rife to give offence;
Eternal peace fhall blefs the happy fhore,
And little factions break thy reft no more.

From Covent Garden crowds promifcuous go,
Whom the mufe knows not, nor defires to know,
Vetrans they feem'd, but knew of arms no more
Than if, till that time, arms they never bore:
Like Weftminfter militia train'd to fight,
They fcarcely knew the left hand from the right.
Afham'd among fuch troops to thew the head,
Their chiefs were fcatter'd, and their heroes fed.
Sparks at his glafs fat comfortably down
To fep'rate frown from fmile, and fimile from
frown:

Smith, the genteel, the airy and the fmart,
Smith was just gone to school to fay his part:
Rofs (a misfortune which we often meet)
Was faft afleep at dear Statira's feet;
Statira, with her hero to agree,

Stood on her feet as fast asleep as he :
Macklin,who largely deals in half-form'd founds,
Who wantonly tranfgreffes nature's bounds,
Whofe acting's hard, affected, and constrain'd,
Whole features, as cach other they difdain'd,
At variance fet, inflexible and coarse,
Ne'er know the workings of united force,
Ne'er Kindly foften to each other's aid,
Nor thew the mingled pow'rs of light and fhade,
Deremember?-Yes-I know all mut-No longer for a thankiefs ftage concern'd,
To worthier thoughts his mighty genius turnid,

ought fcenes the lifeless actor flags, , tra's the paflion into rags.

the Moor he ground his teeth to duft,

A gentlemen fill living, who published, at this jun&ure, a Poent entitled "The Retert.”

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Harangu'd, gave lectures, made each fimple elf
Almoft as good a speaker as himself;
Whilft the whole town, mad with mistaken zeal,
An awkward rage for elocution feel;
Dull cits and grave divines his praife proclaim,
And join with Sheridan's their Macklin's name:
Shuter, who never car'd a fingle pin
Whether he left out nonfenfe, or put in,
Who aim'd at wit, tho', levell'd in the dark,
The random arrow feldom hit the mark,
At Iflington, all by the placid stream
Where City fwains in lap of dulnefs dream,
Where, quiet as her freams their ftrains do flow,
That all the patron by the bards may know,
Secret as night, with Rolt's experienc'd aid,
The plan of future operations laid,
Projected schemes the fummer months to cheer,
And fpin out happy folly through the year.
But think not, though thefe daftard-chiefs
are fled,

That Covent-Garden troops fhall want a head:
Harlequin comes their chief!-See from afar
The hero feated in fantastic car!

Wedded to novelty, his only arms [charms;
Are wooden fwords, wands, talifmans, and
On one fide folly fits, by fome call'd fun,
And on the other, his arch-patron, Lun.
Behind, for liberty a-thirft in vain,
Senfe, helpless captive, drags the galling chain.
Six rude mif-fhapen beafts the chariot draw,
Whom reafon loaths, and nature never faw;
Monsters with tails of ice, and heads of fire;
Gorgons and hydras, and chimeras dire.
Each was beftrode by full as monftrons wight,
Giant, dwarf, genius, elf, hermaphrodite.
The town, as ufual, met him in full cry;
The town, as usual, knew no reason why.
But fashion so directs, and moderns raise
On fashion's mould ringbafetheir tranfientpraise.
Next, to the field a band of females draw
Their force; for Britain owns no falique law :
Just to their worth, we female rites admit,
Nor bar their claim to empire or to wit.

First, giggling, plotting chambermaids arrive,
Hoydens and romps, led on by Gen'ral Clive.
In spite of outward blemishes, the fhone
For humour fam'd, and humour all her own.
Ealy, as if at home, the ftage the trod,
Nor fought the critic's praife, nor fear'd his rod
Original in fpirit and in eafe,

She pleas'd by hiding all attempts to please.
No comic actress ever yet could raise,
On humour's base, more merit or more praise.
With all the native vigour of fixteen,
Among the merry troop confpicuous feen,
See lively Pope advance in gig and trip,
Corinna, Cherry, Honeycomb, and Snip.
Not without art, but yet to nature true,
She charms the town with humour juft, yet new
Cheer'd by her promife, we the lefs deplore
The fatal time when Clive fhall be no more.
Lo! Vincent comes-with fimple grace ar
ray'd,

She laughs at paltry arts, and fcorns parade.

Nature through her is by reflection fhewn,
Whilft Gay once more knows Polly for his ow
Talk not to me of diffidence and fear-
I fee it all, but muft forgive it here.
Defects like thefe, which modeft terrors cause,
From impudence itself extort applause.
Candour and reason ftill take virtue's part;
We love e'en foibles in fo good a heart.

Let Tommy Arne, with ufual pomp of fty
Whofe chief, whofe only merit's to compile,
Who, meanly pilfering here and there a bit,
Deals mufic out as Murphy deals out wit,
Publifh propofals, laws for tafte prefcribe,
And chant the praife of an Italian tribe:
Let him reverfe kind nature's first decrees,
And teach e'en Brent a method not to pleafe
But never shall a truly British age
Bear a vile race of eunuchs on the stage.
The boafted work's call'd National in vain,
If one Italian voice pollutes the ftrain.
Where tyrants rule, and flaves with joy obey,
Let flavish minstrels pour th' enervate lay;
To Britons far more noble pleasures fpring,
In native notes while Beard and Vincent un

Might figure give a title unto fame,
What rival thould with Yates difpute her clai
But juftice may not partial trophies raise,
Nor fink the actress in the woman's praife.
Still hand in hand her words and actions go,
And the heart feels more than the features the
For, through the regions of that beauteous f
We no variety of pallions trace;
Dead to the foft emotions of the heart,
No kindred foftness can thofe eyes impart;
The brow, ftill fix'd in forrow's fullen fram
Void of diftinction, marks all parts the fan

What's a fine perfon, or a beauteous fac
Unlefs deportment gives them decent grace
Blefs'd with all other requifites to please,
Some want the ftriking elegance of eafe;
The curious eye their awkward movement ti
They feem like puppets led about by wires
Others, like ftatues, in one polture still,
Give great ideas of the workman's skill;
Wond'ring, his art we praise the more we v
And only grieve he gave not motion too.
Weak of themfelves are what we beauties c
It is the manner which gives ftrength to all
This teaches ev'ry beauty to unite,
And brings them forward in the nobleft lig
Happy in this, behold, amidst the throng,
With tranfient gleam of grace, Hart fweeps ak

If all the wonders of external grace,
A perfon finely turn'd, a mould of face
Where, union rare, expreffion's lively force
With beauty's fofteft magic holds difcourfe
Attract the eye; if feelings void of art
Roufe the quick paffions, and enflame the he
If mufic, fweetly breathing from the tongu
Captives the ear, Bride muft not país unfun

When fear, which rank ill-nature terms con
By time and custom conquer'd, shall retreal
When judgment, tutor'd by experience fag
Shall fhoot abroad, and gather strength from:

W

When heav'n in mercy fhall the stage release
From the dull flumbers of a ftill-life piece;
When me ftale flow'r, difgraceful to the walk,
Which org hath hung, tho' wither'd on the stalk,
Skindly drop, then Bride fhall make her way,
And merit and a pallage to the day;
Brought into action, the at once hall raise
Her own town, and juftify our praise.
Form'dfor the tragic fcene, to grace the stage
With excellence of love and rage,
Witres dach foft art, with matchlefs fkill
Totand wind the paffions as the will;
Toot the heart with fympathetic woe,
Awake the figh and teach the tear to flow;
put on phrenfy's wild distracted glare,
and freeze the foul with horror and despair;
Vrat defert enroll'd in endless fame,

icious of worth fuperior, Cibber came. Toor Alicia's mad ning brains are rack'd, trongly imag'd griefs her mind diftract; with her grief, I catch the madnefs too! a turns round, the headless trunk I view! of cracks, thakes, and falls!-new horrors ie,

If in originals these things appear,
Why fhould we bar them in the copy here?
The nice punctilio-mongers of this age,
The grand minute reformers of the stage,
Slaves to propriety of ev'ry kind,
Some ftandard-meafure for each part fhould find,
Which when the best of actors thall exceed,
Let it devolve to one of smaller breed.
All actors too upon the back fhould bear
Certificate of birth-time, when-place, where;
For how can critics rightly fix their worth,
Unless they know the minute of their birth?
An audience too, deceiv'd, may find too late
That they have clapp'd an actor out of date.

on buried in the ruin lies. y difdainful of each flavish art, takes her first attack upon the heart, with the fummons, it receives her laws, silence, fympathy, applaufe. when, by fond ambition drawn afide, with praife, and puff'd with female pride, s the tragic fcene, and, in pretence merit, breaks down nature's fence; can believe my ears or eyes, Cibber through the dark difguife. P by nature for the ftage defign'd, graceful, and in fenfe refin'd; much as nature's friend became, ice as free from blemish as her fame. Rows fo well in majefty to please, erd with the graceful charms of eafe? Congreve's favour'd pantomimetograce, captive queen of Moorith race; ove, hate, jealoufy, defpair and rage, wideft tumults in her breaft engage; equal to herself is Zara feen;

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Figure, I own, at first may give offence, And harthly ftrike the eye's too curious fenfe: But when perfections of the mind break forth, Humour's chafte fallies, judgment's folid worth; When the pure genuine flame, by nature taught, Springs into fenfe, and ev'ry action's thought; Before fuch merit all objections fly; Pritchard's genteel, and Garrick's fix feet high.

tions are the paffions of a queen. theto murther whetsthetimorous Thane, mbition rush through ev'ry vein; on hangs upon her daring tongue, heart grows flint, and ev'ry nerve's new

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ftrung. comedy-"Nay, there," cries critic, "hold, ard's for comedy too fat and old. an, with patience, bear the grey coquette, alaugh with over-grown Julett? peech, look, action, humour, all are just ; -ben, her and figure give disguft." Are foibles, then, and graces of the mind, fe, to fize or age confin'd?

age

nits flow, and is good breeding plac'd "Yet circumference of waist? grow old, doth affectation cease, not age new vigour to caprice?

Oft have I, Pritchard, feen thy wondrous skill, Confefs'd thee great, but find thee greater still. That worth which fhone in scatter'd rays before, Collected now, breaks forth with double pow'r. The Jealous Wife! on that thy trophies raife, Inferior only to the author's praife.

From Dublin, fam'd in legions of romance For mighty magic of enchanted lance, With which her heroes arm'd victorious prove, And like a flood rush o'er the land of love, Moffop and Barry came-names ne'er defign'd By fate in the fame sentence to be join'd." Rais'd by the breath of popular acclaim, They mounted to the pinnacle of fame; [height, There the weak brain, made giddy with the Spurr'd on the rival chiefs to mortal fight. Thus fportive boys around some bason's brim Behold the pipe-drawn bladders circling fwim: But if, from lungs more potent, there arise Two bubbles of a more than common fize, Eager for honour they for fight prepare, Bubble meets bubble, and both link to air.

Moffop, attach'd to military plan, Still kept his eye fix'd on his right-hand man. Whilft the mouth measures words with feeming skill,

The right-hand labours, and the left lies ftill; For he refolv'd on fcripture grounds to go, What the right doth, the left-hand shall not

know.

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When lab'ring paffions, in his bofom pent,
Convulfive rage, and ftruggling heave for vent,
Spectators, with imagin'd terrors warm,
Anxious expect the bursting of the storm:
But, all unfit in fuch a pile to dwell,

His voice comes forth like Echo from her cell;
To fwell the tempest neediul aid denies,
And all a down the stage in feeble murmurs dies.
What man, like Barry, with fuch pains can
In elocution, action, character?
[err
What man could give, if Barry was not here,
Such well-applauded tendernefs to Lear?
Who elfe could fpeak fo very, very fine,
That fenfe may kindly end with ev'ry line?
Some dozen lines before the ghost is there,
Behold him for the folemn fcene prepare.
See how he frames his eyes, poifes each limb,
Puts the whole body into proper trim. [art,
From whence we learn, with no great stretch of
Five lines hence comes a ghoft, and, ha! a start.
When he appears moft perfect, ftill we find
Something which jars upon, and hurts the mind.
Whatever lights upon a part are thrown,
We fee too plainly they are not his own.
No flame from nature ever yet he caught;
Nor knew a feeling which he was not taught;
He rais'd his trophies on the bafe of art,
And conn'd his paffions, as he conn'd his part.
Quin, from afar lur'd by the fcent of fame,
A ftage Leviathan, put in his claim,
Pupil of Betterton and Booth. Alone,
Sullen he walk'd, and deem'd the chair his own.
For how fhould moderns, mushrooms of the day,
Who ne'er thofe mafters knew,know how to play?
Grey-bearded vet'rans, who, with partial tongue,
Extol the times when they themselves were
Who, having loft all relifh for the ftage, [young,
See not their own defects, but lafh the age;
Receiv'd with joy ful murmurs of applaufe
Their darling chief, and lin'd his fav'rite caufe.
Far be it from the candid mufe to tread
Infulting o'er the ashes of the dead,
But, just to living merit, the maintains,
And dares the teft, whilft Garrick's genius reigns;
Ancients in vain endeavour to excel,
Happily prais'd, if they could act as well.
But though prefcription's force we ditallow,
Nor to antiquity fubmiffive bow;
Though we deny imaginary grace,
Founded on accidents of time and place;
Yet real worth of ev'ry growth shall bear
Due praife, nor muft we, Quin, forget thee there.
His words bore fterling weight, nervous and
In manly tides of fenfe they roll'd along. [ftrong
Happy in art, he chiefly had pretence
To keep up numbers, yet not forfeit fenfe.
No actor ever greater heights could reach
In all the labour'd artifice of speech.
Speech! is that all?—And shall an actor found
An univerfal fame on partial ground?
Par ots themfelves fpeak properly by rote,
And in fix months, my dog fhall howl by note.
I lau that thofe, who, when the ftage they tread,
Neglect the heart, to compliment the head;

With ftrict propriety their care's confia'd
To weigh out words, while paffion halts behind
To tyliable-diffectors they appeal,

Allow them accent, cadence,-fools may feel;
But, spite of all the criticifing elves,
Thofe who would make us feel, muft feel them
felves.

His eyes, in gloomy focket taught to roll,
Proclaim'd the fullen habit of his foul.
Heavy and phlegmatic he trod the stage,
Too proud for tenderness, too dull for rage.
When Hector's lovely widow fhines in tears,
Or Rowe's gay rake dependant virtue jeers,
With the fame cait of features he is feen
To chide the libertine, and court the queen.
From the tame fcene,which without paffionflowe
With just defert his reputation rofe;
Nor lefs he pleas'd, when, on fome furly plan,
He was, at once, the actor and the man.

In Brute he fhone unequall'd: all agree Garrick's not half fo great a brute as he. WhenCato's labour'd fcenes are brought toview. With equal praise the actor labour'a too; For ftill you'll find, trace paffions to their root, Small diff 'rence 'twixt the Stoic and the Brut In fancied fcenes, as in life's real plan, He could not for a moment fink the man. In whate'er caft his character was laid, Self ftill, like oil, upon the furface play'd. Nature, in fpite of all his kill, crept in: Horatio, Dorax, Falftaff,-ftill 'twas Quin.

Next follows Sheridan-a doubtful naine, As yet unfettled in the rank of fame. This, fondly lavifh in his praifes grown, Gives him all merit: That allows him non”, Between them both we'll steer the middleco Nor, loving praise, rob judgment of her force.

Juft his conceptions, natural and great: His feelings ftrong, his words enforc'd wa weight.

Was fpeech-fam'dQuin himselfto hear him fo
Envy would drive the colour from his checki
But ftep-dame nature, niggard of her grace,
Deny'd the focial pow'rs of voice and face.
Fix'd in one frame of features, glare of eye,
Paffions, like chaos, in confution lie:
In vain the wonders of his fkill are try'd
To form diftinétions nature hath deny'd.
His voice no touch of harmony admits,
Irregularly deep and fhrill by fits:
The two extremes appear like man and wife,
Coupled together for the fake of strife.

His action's always ftrong, but fometime
That candour must declare he acts too much.
Why muft impatience fall three paces back;
Why paces three return to the attack?
Why is the right-leg too forbid to stir,
Unless in motion femicircular?
Why muft the hero with the Nailor vie,
And hurl the clofe-clench'd fift at nofe or eye?
In royal John, with Philip angry grown,
I thought he would have knock'd poor
Inhuman tyrant! was it not a fhame, [down
To fright a king fo harmless and fo tame?

Davie

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"Your bro always fhould be tall, you know"The natural greatnefs all confifts in height' Praise your voucher, critic." Serjeant Kite." Aather can't forgive the paltry arts which he makes his way to fhallow hearts; Were pieces of fineffe, traps for applaufent, unnatural start, affected paufe." by nature form'd to judge with phlegm, tacquit by whole fale, nor condemn. things carried to excefs are wrong: may be too frequent, paufe too long: ay us'd in proper time and place,

And, in their fentence happily agreed,
In name of both, great Shakspeare thus decreed:

"If manly fenfe; if nature link'd with art;
If thorough knowledge of the human heart;
If pow'rs of acting vaft and unconfin'd;
If feweft faults with greatest beauties join'd;
If ftrong expreffion, and ftrange pow'rs which lie
Within the magic circle of the eye;
If feelings which few hearts like his can know,
And which no face fo well as his can thew;
Deferve the pref'rence;-Garrick, take the chair;
Nor quit it till thou place an equal there."

§ 35. The Pleasures of Imagination. Akenside.

BOOK I.

WITH what attractive charms this goodly
frame

Of nature touches the confenting hearts
Of mortal men; and what the pleasing ftores

Which beauteous imitation thence derives
To deck the poet's, or the painter's toil;
My verfe unfolds. Attend, ye gentle powers
Of mufical delight! and, while I fing
Your gifts,your honours,dance around mystrain.
Thou, fmiling queen of ev'ry tuneful breast,
Indulgent Fancy! from the fruitful banks
Copied fcene with mangled arts difgrace,Of Avon, whence thy rofy fingers cull

judgment muft allow them grace. glers, form'd on imitation's plan,

the way

that monkies mimic man,

forms,

le and tart with the fame vacant face; Fresh flowers and dews to fprinkle on the turf the critic laugh; thofe tricks we fcorn, Where Shak fpeare lies, be prefent: and with thee poil the fcenes they mean them to adorn. Let Fiction come, upon her vagrant wings from nature's pure and genuine fource, Wafting ten thousand colours through the air, es of acting flow with gen'rous force; Which, by the glances of her magic eye, Ax, fuch as Garrick's, are difplay'd;] the features all the foul's portray'd, She blends and thifts at will, through countless 725 feem from quickeft feelings caught: Her wild creation. Goddess of the lyre Estat is nature; and each paufe is thought. Which rules the accents of the moving sphere, reafon yields to paffion's wild alarms, Wilt thou, eternal Harmony! defcend At whole ftate of man is up in arms; And join this feitive train? for with thee comes at a critic could condemn the player, The guide, the guardian of their lovely sports, g here, when cool fenfe paufes there? Majeltic Truth, and where Truth deigns to come, 4 working from the heart, the fire I trace, Her fifter Liberty will not be far. kit ftrongly flaming to the face; 7, each found, I hear the very man; at catch words, and pity thofe who can. wits, like fpiders, from the tortur'd brain draw the critic web with curious pain;

Be prefent, all ye Genii, who conduct

The wandering footsteps of the youthful bard.
New to your fprings and fhades: who touch his

ear

With finer founds: who heighten to his eye dakindness I with thanks muft pay,The bloom of nature, and before him turn The gayeft, happieft attitude of things.

form'd me of a coarfer kind of clay;
ang with envy, nor with fpleen difeas'd,
dull creature, ftill with nature pleas'd;
tothy praifes, Garrick, I agree,
pleas'd with nature, must be pleas'd with

thee.

Now might Itell, how filence reign'd through

out,

ep attention hufh'd the rabble rout:
ty claimant, tortur'd with defire,
ale as afhes, or as red as fire:

fe to fame, the Mufe more fimply acts,
all flourish, and relates mere facts.
liges, as the feveral parties came,
teperheard, with judgment weigh'd each
Claim,

Oft have the laws of each poetic strain
The critic-verfe employ'd; yet still unfung
Lay this prime fubject, though importing moft
A poet's name: for fruitless is the attempt,
By dull obedience and by creeping toil

Obfcure, to conquer the fevere afcent

Of high Parnaffus. Nature's kindling breath
Muft fire the chofen genius; nature's han i
Muft ftring his nerves, and imp his eagle wings
Impatient of the painful fteep, to foar
High as the fummit, there to breathe at large
Æthereal air, with bards and fages old,
Immortal fons of praise. These fittering fcenes
To this neglected labour court my fong;

Yet not uncon cious what a doubtful talk

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