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THE THEATRES. A POETICAL DISSECTION.
[PRICE THREE SHILLINGS.]
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THE THEATRES. A POETICAL DISSECTION. By Sir NICHOLAS NIPCLOSE, Baronet.
Suppoſe JOB living 'midſt the Critic train,
Our Theatres would ope his angry vein.
Behold the Muses ROSCIUS sue in Vain,
Taylors & Carpenters usurp their Reign.
LONDON: PRINTED FOR JOHN BELL, IN THE STRAND, AND C. ETHERINGTON, AT YORK. M.DCC.LXXII.
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TO MRS. ABINGTON, AS A CORDIAL TRIBUTE OF RESPECT, FOR SUCH SINGULAR MERIT, AS WOULD HAVE BEEN AN ORNAMENT TO THE STAGE, EVEN AT IT'S BRIGHTEST AERA; MERIT, WHICH THE PUBLIC WISH, AND OUGHT OFTENER TO ENJOY: MERIT, HIGHLY CONSPICUOUS, THO' INJURED BY WANT OF PROPER SUPPORT: THE FOLLOWING SATIRE, THE FRUIT OF HONEST INDIGNATION, IS DEDICATED, BY ONE WHO DARES SIGN HIMSELF AN UNPREJUDICED CRITIC, AND THE LADY'S WELL-WISHING HUMBLE SERVANT, NICHOLAS NIPCLOSE.
NIPCLOSE-HALL, Nov. 1771.
ADVERTISEMENT.
[]IT may be depended upon, that the following piece appeals more to Facts than Fancy; however ſtrong the Colouring may appear, un⯑attach'd judgement will pronounce it not exaggerated; the Author has particularly dwelt on ſordid Management, as that is the polluted ſource of all Theatrical dullneſs and deficiency: Mr GARRICK is exceedingly blameable, and, therefore, particularly noticed. About the time he got a ſhare in Drury-Lane Patent, our preſent Laureat wrote him a letter,* in which, among other paſſages, we find Thalia ſpeaking thus:
No more the poor polluted ſcene
Shall teem with births of Harlequin;
Or vindicated ſtage ſhall feel
The inſults of the dancer's heel;
Such idle traſh we'll kindly ſpare
To Op'ras now: they'll want them there.
Afterwards, addreſſing Mr. Garrick, the poet ſays:
Conſult your own good ſenſe in all,
Be deaf to Faſhion's fickle call;
Nor e'er deſcend to reaſon's laws
To court, what you command, applauſe.
How far Roſcius has fulfilled the prophecy, or conſulted his own DISINTERESTED good ſenſe, experience ſadly tells. Some hireling news-paper friends ſay, if the public will follow ſuch traſh, the ma⯑nagers are right to furniſh it; but will common ſenſe allow, that thoſe [viii] public purveyors ſhould, like common proſtitutes, be allowed to pick young and unwary pockets by falſe glaring colours. Public complaint has been loud; yet the tide of avarice and folly moſt audaciouſly flows on.—The theatres have been likened to taverns, where, if you don't like the proviſion or wines, you may ſtay away, or go to another; true; but there are MANY taverns; only TWO theatres: a third of the latter, would make eſſential difference; allow a ſmall anecdote: QUEEN ELIZABETH, having received remarkable inſtances of ardent loyalty from a ſmall country town, ſaid; if they would aſk any rea⯑ſonable grant, in her power, they ſhould be indulged. Licence for an alehouſe was the demand. Surpriſed, me aſked the reaſon; becauſe, ſaid they, we have but one, and they give us ſuch wretched traſh we can't drink it; if there was another, emulation would produce us ſomething worth money: the application is obvious.
One half the money, that either INSTALLATION has coſt, nightly extra expences included, would have genteely paid Mr. MOSSOP, who is intrinſically worth a thouſand ſuch Chriſtmas-Holliday Pro⯑ductions.
As to the performers, we know they, like a neſt of diſturbed hor⯑nets, will buzz and whet their ſtings; it will be called cruelty to attack bread; how abſurd an aſſertion: if a ſhoemaker, or taylor, executes, what he is paid for, badly, have not cuſtomers a right to complain? nothing is more true than the following lines of CHUR⯑CHILL, with which we ſhall conclude;
The ſtage I chuſe—a ſubject fair and free;
'Tis your's—'tis mine—'tis public property:
All public exhibitions open lie,
To praiſe, or cenſure, of the public eye.
THE THEATRES. A POETICAL DISSECTION.
[]GODS of the ſtage! if any gods there be,
Who deign to glance on modern tragedy;
Or comic ſtrains, which barely ſerve to keep
The ſlumb'ring audiences from perfect ſleep,
Inſpire the muſe—provide a whip of ſteel,
To make e'en av'rice, pride, and dullneſs feel,
[6]Pervade the Grub-ſtreet gloom, which wraps around
Our ROYAL SHOW SHOPS, and their guides profound:
For SAINT BARTHOLOMEW let conqueſt run;
To Smithfield give their tinſel glare and FUN:
For that we cannot humour juſtly ſtile,
Which ſcarcely ſhould in barns create a ſmile;
Grant us correction both for great and ſmall,
For authors, actors, managers and all:
'Till they with pallid tremor ſhrink and faint,
Sunk into captives of the ſauſage ſaint.
Where is the bluſh, oh DRURY! for thy ſhame,
Without a remnant of thy ancient fame;
Tho' tears ſtill fall, and laughter ſtill may roar,
Ev'n mighty ROSCIUS is himſelf no more:
And for the reſt, ſome few exceptions made,
They ſink to criticiſm's darkeſt ſhade;
Scarce more reſpectable than Falſtaff's crew,
Whom SHAKESPEARE paints ſo laughably to view.
Think not, tho' on a golden column rais'd,
Tho' often juſtly and unjuſtly prais'd;
[7]Tho' ſervile authors kiſs thy mighty hand,
And cringing actors at wide diſtance ſtand;
Tho' valiant BRATHWAITE(1), arm'd with ſteel and gooſe,
Lets all a taylor's mighty genius looſe;
Tho' SAWNEY JOHNSTON(2), that deſigning Scot,
Who once mov'd PUNCH—now doom'd to fairer lot,
Makes gain of darling ſiller, juſt defence
For the fell murder of poor common ſenſe;
Tho' great BEN VICTOR(3),—the Hibernian bard—
Had they no native blockhead?—wond'rous hard—
To wear the laurel, and—oh taſk ſublime!—
Weave birth-day ſonnets into barb'rous rhime;
That here they came a tonſor to miſplace,
And put a ſhaver in the poet's place;
[8]Tho' BEN, who in his biographic flights,
Juſt like the ordinary of Newgate(4) writes;
Applauds thy management without rebuff,
Grinning aſſent with conſequence and ſnuff;
Tho' LACY, ſwearing ſhadow of a ſhade,
Thy moſt obedient ſtalking horſe is made;
Think not thy crimes, oh GARRICK, ſhall eſcape,
Thy crimes, as manager, of monſt'rous ſhape;
One as a man—didſt thou not ent'ring life,
With real merit wage illiberal ſtrife?
Did not DELANE(5)—a bright thea [...]ic ſtar—
Fall by the ſhock of paltry mimic war?
Haſt thou not ſince aſſail'd that art with blame(6),
Which, to aſſaſſinate a rival's fame,
[9]Was us'd without remorſe?—make no reply,
Knock at thy heart, and let repentance ſigh.
By royal patent conſtituted 'SQUIRE,
To what great purpoſe did thy ſoul aſpire?
Not with true taſte to dignify the ſtage,
In grateful ſenſe of ſuch a gen'rous age;
Whoſe favours flow'd upon thee in a tide
Unknown before; to ſwell thy purſe and pride:
To trick the public, and become ſupreme,
Were the ſole objects of thy ſelfiſh ſcheme.
BARRY was baniſh'd when his powers could ſhine,
Now ta'en to ſneer at in his ſad decline;
Or, what is worſe, upon the verge of life,
View'd as a mere appendage to his wife.
MOSSOP(6), too great a fav'rite of the town,
Like the Turk's brothers ſtood too near the crown;
Therefore avaunt—you knew the man has pride,
And thro' that foible ſtabb'd his weakeſt ſide;
[10]On ſelf-deſtruction's wings he fled the field,
And muſt, we fear, thro' adverſe fortune yield:
Yet be adviſed, nor cruel terms impoſe,
Leſt friends of merit ſhould become thy foes.
Haſt thou e'er giv'n young genius due reward?
Haſt thou not rather pinch'd and grip'd it hard?
POWELL and HOLLAND,(7) both, for ſeaſons, felt
The poor, penurious pittance which you dealt:
You taught the latter, and by teaching ſpoil'd;
You travell'd, and the firſt grew nature's child;
From his own ſource his ſtock of merit drew,
And earn'd juſt praiſe by not reſembling you(8).
What ballances the miſchiefs you have done?
Giving us CAUTHERLY and BRERETON:
Illuſtrious pair!—inimitably fine!
Who with an equal ſhare of dimneſs ſhine—
[11]Hold, let us own, amidſt ſatyric rage,
You have improv'd the lighting (9) of the ſtage:
Yet oh! what man of ſenſe but ſighs and ſtares,
When rags and ſticks ſupply the place of play'rs?
To all but recommended blockheads blind,
Has budding genius ever prov'd thee kind?
Obſequious to right honourable taſte,
(A lord muſt be diſcerning, wiſe and chaſte)
You never kindly op'd the way to fame,
Unleſs ſuſtain'd by ſome enobled name;
Or ſuch, whoſe Pens o'ercharg'd with ranc'rous ſpite,
Have put thy tim'rous nature in a fright;
Ev'n HOME's(10) amazing talents could not ſuit,
'Till handed forward by the GREAT LORD BUTE.
Agis and Aquilcia came in play,
Tho' each a nerveleſs dialogue eſſay;
[12]Flatt'ry, indeed, that ſweetmeat to the vain,
Has found ſucceſs in thy theatric reign;
While modeſt worth, tho' known, if poor,
Might bootleſs ſhiver at thy churliſh door;
And hope as ſoon encouragement to meet,
In Aſia's wilds as in SOUTHAMPTON-STREET.(11)
The want of leiſure, pitiful pretence,
Apologizes for rejected ſenſe;
Previous engagements too are made a plea,
Engagements known full well to you and me;
Such as to name would make a cynic laugh,
Perhaps to CUMBERLAND or BICKERSTAFF.
Oh, had kind fortune of my father made
An Iriſh biſhop,(12) or as good a trade;
Had ſhe, when at my mother's breaſt I hung,
With thriving Blarney(13) tipp'd my ſupple tongue;
Then of thy ſmiles ſecure I might have ſhone,
As many equal ſimpletons have done.
[13]Go on, great ſir, acquiring praiſe and pelf,
Take care that none write better than thyſelf—
FOOTE—let that name ne'er wound thy jealous ear,
His wit and ſatire riſe above thy ſphere;
He too poſſeſſes what thou ne'er could'ſt find,
Judicious taſte and elegance of mind.
Go on, great ſir, and ſcribble to the laſt.
You cannot give us worſe than what is paſt;
Unleſs your prologue-forging(14) itch remains,
Which throws, relentleſs, common ſenſe in chains.
Thus of the manager I take my leave,
And, while I view the faithful picture, grieve;
Truth ſhould be told of all in public ſtation,
The monarch of a theatre or nation;
Truth, that bright beacon, which, with juſt alarm,
May folly, vice, and inſolence diſarm;
If one, or all of theſe, in thee are found,
Oh that my pen the rotten part may wound;
[14]May probe to heal—deriving peace from ſtrife,
And make thy private, match thy public life.
COVENT—alas!—for many years has been
Of pantomime and frippery the ſcene;
Like the piazza females, trick'd with ſhow,
Moſt meanly high, moſt eminently low;
Gods, devils, oſtriches, and ſuch a train,
As ne'er were jumbled into human brain
'Till RICH exiſted, have uſurp'd this ſpot,
Of childiſh inſipidity the lot;
RICH mark'd a path, and BEARD purſu'd his plan,
Now tiny GEORGE, that mere poetic ſpan,
In nought but human Fantoccini dealing,
Wages fell war 'gainſt genius, ſenſe, and feeling;
Bold in patch'd coat and pageantry alliance,
Taſte and his colleagues(15) ſets at bold defiance;
Fenc'd with a ſhield of ſubtle legal cunning,
Kindly produc'd by ſhrewd, ſarcaſtic DUNNING,
[15]Throws down gooſe quills, takes up the wooden ſword,
A Mede or Perſian law his ev'ry word;
Works wonders with the thunder of his tongues,
And, miller like, converts the old to young;
Makes harraſs'd VINCENT, verg'd on ſixty-three,
Smirk, cant, and trip thro' girls in tragedy;
Makes SAVIGNY—but ſoft—let him appear
In proper ſeaſon, and his deſtin'd ſphere—
Field officer—oh ſcandal of the age!—
Amidſt our wretched train bands of the ſtage.
Manes of CIBBER, PRITCHARD, QUIN, DELANE;
Riſe from the ſhades—take human ſhape again;
See, hear, feel, judge with moſt impartial thought,
And frown our ſpouting cyphers into nought.
Hark! to our ear the tragic muſe complains,
And pours peculiar grief in melting ſtrains;
Hark to her voice, ſhe well deſerves the ſmile
Of all the great and virtuous in our iſle;
Since ſhe depicts ſuch characters and things,
As ſuit the minds and dignity of kings;
[16]See how ſhe bends her tender, tear-fill'd eye
On diſtant, cold, neglecting majeſty:
Hear her remonſtrance—hear her humble pray'r
To him who ſhould careſs the melting fair.
The TRAGIC MUSE's PETITION and REMONSTRANCE.
Oh mighty GEORGE, this nation's tender ſire,
Whoſe virtues, more than rank, the good admire;
Why, when unbending from the painful weight
Of cumb'rous monarchy, and toilſome ſtate;
Why, ſometimes in my laughing ſiſter's place,
Am I not honour'd with your royal grace?
The actions and the ſentiments I yield
Afford reflection, ſure the nobler field;
And ought to rank me, on ſome kind occaſion,
Before ſuch traſh as HARLEQUIN's INVASION.
Where not one ray of real merit ſhines,
To gild the gingerbread of ſchool-boy lines.
He ne'er inſulted me with abject ſcorn;
Ne'er turn'd againſt me FASHION's(18) pow'rful tide,
But led me forth with all the pomp of pride;
And took a feeling, ſenſible delight
To trace my SHAKESPEARE thro' each nobler flight;
Whether he ſung ambition's righteous fall,
Or wav'd his pen at freedom's pow'rful call;
Whether he mov'd in high, or humble ſphere,
With Juliet ſigh'd, or rav'd with frantic Lear;
SHAKESPEARE, ſo little countenanc'd by you,
Unleſs in ſprightly tale of MUCH ADO.(19)
[18]Early great FRED'RIC gave thee my embrace;(20)
I ſhew'd thy talents with peculiar grace;
Let her not then in vain thy favour ſeek,
Who taught thee like an orator to ſpeak.
Oft' have I ſeen thee in thy infant ſtate,
Weep for the havoc made by partial fate;
And tears of pity, from a royal breaſt,
Should ſtill humanely wait on the diſtreſt:
Like Heav'n's impartial dew ſhould ever flow
For real worth beneath the clouds of woe.
Fear not to view me—hear the truths I tell,
Such truths as ne'er from cringing courtiers fell;
Give me your grace, I'll limit my deſign,
And yield up LIBERTY to RIGHT DIVINE;
No WILKES, thro' me, ſhall wound your awful eye,
Preſuming wretch, to ſquint at majeſty:
[19]With titled knaves and fools I will not ſport,
But ſhew all great and virtuous at thy court;
Thrice happy ſpot! where ev'ry thing is good,
Where no vice taints the ſtreams of noble blood,
Within whoſe verge corruption ne'er could ſteal,
And ev'ry ſtateſman toils for public weal;
For public weal employs his honeſt care,
Nor lets ſelf-int'reſt claim the ſmalleſt ſhare;
Feels ſleepleſs nights—ſtands popular abuſe—
When all the horrid rage of ſlander's looſe.
Witneſs, oh NORTH, the facts which I relate,
You guide, ill-paid, this moſt ungrateful ſtate;
You have no wife made ranger—poſt ſublime—
Wiſer than all who in your poſt have ſat:
Braver than all—for once you loſt a HAT.(23)
[20]Witneſs them, SANDWICH, noble, wiſe and chaſte,
With ev'ry moral, pious virtue grac'd;
SANDWICH, who ne'er in Rocheſterian (24) way,
On helpleſs woman made one vile eſſay.(25)
Witneſs them, ROCHFORT,(26) GRAFTON, WEYMOUTH, GOWER;
Oh truly patriot, moſt illuſtrious four!
Whoſe very names with utmoſt rev'rence ſtrike,
Whom Britain, or her foes, muſt ſurely like.
Witneſs them, BARRINGTON,(27) of gentle mind,
The bloodleſs, tender friend of human kind;
Whoſe grateful letter perfect pleaſure yields,
For the great conqueſt gain'd in GEORGE's FIELDS.
[21]Witneſs them, TALBOT,(28) thriftieſt of the great,
A moſt ſuperb oeconomiſt of ſtate;
Who ſo much rich ſuperfluous viands ſlights,
That all St. JAMES's are Cadoganites.
Witneſs, proud POMFRET, that bed-chamber lord,
That ſun-ſhine (29) of the ſun, in every word;
Who languiſhes, alas! for Yorkſhire mines,
Oh cruel SMITH! to thwart a peer's deſigns.
Witneſs, oh WESTMINSTER, where, from the bench,
Sage MANSFIELD(30) ne'er would law from juſtice wrench,
But holds her ſcales with ſuch an equal hand,
He may be deem'd the MINOS of our land.
Witneſs the glorious melting kind THIRTEEN,(31)
Who, by a handmaid urg'd of beauty's queen,
[22]For murd'rers begg'd, and gracious pardon won:—
No reign e'er mercy ſhew'd as this has done.
Witneſs our BISHOPS, and ARCHBISHOPS too,
Who worſhip lawn, without one worldly view.
Witneſs, ſage GLOSTER, rev'rend with a right,
That holy, mitred, criticiſing(32) wight,
Who ſtill forgives, as he would be forgiv'n;
Can ſuch an humble prelate miſs of Heav'n?
Oh glorious proofs of GEORGE's patriot reign,
SEJANUS(33) ne'er ſhall mount the ſtage again;
No monſter like him lurks behind thy throne;
Adviſing actions which he dares not own:
Still conſcious virtue thy calm conſcience keeps,
And MAGNA CHARTA on thy pillow ſleeps;(34)
[23]In thee the ſtream of policy refines,
And with inimitable luſtre ſhines.
Why ſhould proud armaments, prepar'd around,
Diſturb our peace ſo ſolidly profound?
Let not ſuch objects ſtir thy mighty mind,
Conqueſts at home are of the nobler kind:
What are ſeiz'd ſhips, or men in bondage caſt?
Perhaps, all mankind may be ſlaves at laſt.
Heed not the SPANIARDS, treat their threats as ſport,
But oh, keep ſtedfaſt eye on PRINCE's COURT;(35)
Smile on a civil parliament, and be
At leaſt, thyſelf poſſeſſed of liberty.
Smile on me too, as formerly, again,
Grant me, oh grant, a Thurſday(36) now and then;
So ſhall again my conſequence ariſe,
To captivate the heart and flood the eyes;
[24]So ſhall I hold the ſtate my rank demands,
And gain due tribute at the public hands.
Thus ſues the queen of tears—may ſhe obtain
That favour citizens have ſought in vain.
Pardon, kind reader, that the wand'ring muſe
Should in her ſubject mingle diff'rent views;
Unfrown'd upon, permit her to return,
Nor let a critic indignation burn;
Since all agree the real and mimic ſtate,
In many points, each other nearly mate;
Since blunders, partialities, and pride,
At preſent, rule the roaſt on either ſide;
And merit, without meanneſs, or a friend,
In both may unſucceſsfully attend;
Seek and deſerve protection, but in vain,
Herein St. JAMES's joins with DRURY-LANE:(36)
Who then, with patience, either ſpot can ſee,
Unleſs who hate deſert, and liberty.
[25]Authors come forth—moſt venerable tribe—
Whom we not fear to cenſure—nor will bribe
With paltry praiſe—come all around,
With ſelf-ſufficiency and dullneſs crown'd;
At ſatire's call here bluſhing bend your way,
Solemn and farcical as LORD MAY'R's DAY.
The poet's brain, how whimſical a ſpot;
How ſtrange a jumble is the author's lot!
How rich, how poor, how pitiful, how great!
The world his field, and nature his eſtate:
This day a pamper'd PEGASUS he rides,
The next, one bare as ROSINANTE's ſides;
Like QUIXOTE too, he often takes delight
To brave mankind in fruitleſs windmill fight;
By him what vaſt variety is ſhewn,
From the plain cottage to the gilded throne:
Sometimes his thunder ſhakes a wooden ſphere,
Nay, all the elements by turns appear;
Now roſin light'nings blaſt the deſart ſcene,
Then blooms ſtage groves, with beauteous vernal green;
[26]He calls the TRAGIC MUSE in pompous woe,
While tears from ſympathiſing paſſions flow;
'Till yielding to her blither ſiſter, ſhe
Reſigns her groans to laughing COMEDY.
Sweet WILLY WHITEHEAD, who, with medium ſtile,
Can never force a tear, or win a ſmile;
Moſt ſimply chaſte—moſt delicately dull,
Nearly o'erflowing, and yet never full.
Sweet WILLY WHITEHEAD, firſt in rhiming ſphere,
Who ſmoothly BALLADIZES(37) twice a year,
Teaching his laurell'd, penſion'd muſe to ſing
The milkwarm praiſes of a milkwarm king;
Welcomes the infant year, as cuſtom claims,
And hails, in creeping meaſure, royal names.
Bold ARTHUR MURPHY, a dramatic wight,
Whom taſte muſt wiſh had never learn'd to write;
Who, BRITON like, attacks our Gallic foes,
And, deck'd in Engliſh garb, his plunder ſhews;
[27]The literary ſmuggler of this iſle,
Whoſe works from genuine genius claim a ſmile,
Not of applauſe; for dullneſs' ſelf muſt own,
That modeſt ARTHUR ſhares her gloomy throne,
And has, by various labours, fairly won
The glorious title of her eldeſt ſon.
Stand clear, ye critics! at due diſtance ſtand!
While we produce great DOCTOR CUMBERLAND,
The witty ſon of a RIGHT REV'REND ſire,
Touch'd with ſuch glow of true Parnaſſian fire;
That he has given three pieces(38) to our ſtage,
The pride, the joy, the wonder of the age.
Let probability ſuch authors bind,
As pour productions from a narrow mind;
Let thoſe who wiſh to merit being read,
Avoid abſurd aſſaults on PRISCIAN's head;
Our DOCTOR ſcorns to own ſuch narrow views,
Defies all grammar and no theme purſues:
[28]Of incidents ſupplied with plenteous ſtore,
Off ſets his muſe and never ſeeks for more:
Let him go on amidſt the public praiſe,
And proudly gild his never-blooming bays;
Let him proceed with moſt relentleſs heart,
'Till nature and the ſtage for ever part.
Stiff as the ſtays(39) which once his needle made—
What ſtrange tranſactions chance from trade to trade;
How wonderful the various turns of men,
Who now a bodkin wield, and now a pen;
Stiff as the whalebone which he once admir'd,
Behold HUGH KELLY with the muſe inſpir'd!
Vending in dialogue ſermonic ſcenes,
THALIA knows not what ſuch preaching means;
And grieves to walk abroad in ſuch diſguiſe
As that dull WORD projected for the WISE.(40)
[29]KELLY between the ſiſter muſes ſteers,
Too grave for laughter, and too light for tears;
If CLEMENTINA claims thee for her ſire,
To paſtry-cooks conſign her, or the fire;
Nor dare to play the double dealer's part,
In ſentiments ſo foreign from thy heart.(41)
Wherefore—oh HUGH!—with belly fair and round,
With city luxury and dullneſs crown'd;
Wilt thou aſpire to hold an author's name?
If thou art bent on literary fame,
Forego the city's father,(42) left his head
Should thicken thine with ſympathetic lead.
Obſerve examples—they inſtruct the wiſe;
Obſerve thoſe maxims—none but fools deſpiſe:
Breathe freer air—reſign a civic crown,
Ev'n WILKES is made much duller by his gown.(43)
[30]JOHNSON, that huge Leviathan of wit,
Made once a turgid, taſteleſs tragic hit;
Told a ſoft tale in ſuch laborious ſtrains,
As damn'd the fair IRENE for his pains.
A literary warehouſe, well ſupply'd
With learning's lore, and not a little pride;
Who, in his own opinion, ſits ſupreme,
Whatever ſtile he takes, whatever theme;
Who never yet his own applauſe has miſs'd,
Poet, philoſopher, philologiſt.
JOHNSON, who once, beneath a virtuous face,
Gave venal penſioners to vile diſgrace;
JOHNSON, who ſince, more prudent grown, and old,
Obeys the touch of all-converting gold;
Of a court ſcribbler takes the paltry ſphere,
And damns his fame—for what?—three hundred pounds a year.
[31]JOHNSON, thrice happy in a new-coin'd word,
Reigns in full ſtate, moſt pompouſly abſurd;
In a ſad fit of dotage takes up arms,
And crams the public with his FALSE ALARMS;(44)
Defends a miniſtry, in whoſe defence
He murders virtue, liberty, and ſenſe.
GARRICK, the friend of DOCTORS, right or wrong,
Moſt aptly here adorns ſatyric ſong;
GARRICK, who titles loves almoſt as life,
And nearly well as his beloved wife;
GARRICK, by multitudes ſo much ador'd,
Like ſir JOHN ENGLISH, worſhips ev'ry lord.(45)
[32]Were all indeed like Hagley's(46) learned peer,
Taſte would herſelf become their worſhipper;
But Drury's lord, on greatneſs only ſet,
Head or no head, admires a coronet.
Why wilt thou, DAVY, harraſs out thy pen?
Oh may it never judgement wound again;
No ear ſo dull, but what muſt ſurely tingle
To hear the jargon of thy dear Sir Dingle.
Bleſs'd be the ſire, but hold—this ſtarts a doubt—
'Tis a wiſe ſon can find his father out;
But what of this? legitimacy's fire
Equals not that catch'd from illegal ſire;
Then bleſt be he, with warmth we ſpeak the word,—
Should he perchance a footman be, or lord,
That gave us COLY(47)—oh luxurious grant!—
That pretty, peeviſh, pert annuitant:
Oh may he follow ſtill parental path,
And, mother like, give all his love to BATH!(48)
[33]Here may he cry, let wounded withers wince,
I'm an invulnerable FAIRY PRINCE;
Such troops I pay, ſuch management I claim,
As never grac'd before theatric name:
I've wrote enough; what needs there any more,
To gain fame's temple, and the public roar?
The LONDON PACKET(49), the St. JAMES's join
To vend the puffs which I and DAVY coin:
We, pleaders like, though at the public bar
We wrangle fiercely, wage no hoſtile war;
Behind the curtain we ſhake hands and ſmile,
United BUBBLE MASTERS of this iſle.
Why ſhould I write? it coſts a world of pains
To drag ev'n dialogue from hard-bound brains:
Then as for wit—my ſcull may be its tomb,
Upon my brows no laurel e'er can bloom,
They both forſwore me in my mother's womb.
[34]GOLDSMITH, who teems with ſentiments refin'd,
Speaks in his works a pregnant, lib'ral mind;
And ſhew'd, tho' we condemn his gen'ral plan,
Strong tints of life in his GOOD NATUR'D MAN;
Yet don't we wiſh to meet him on the ſtage,
'Twill ſpoil the foremoſt poet of our age;
Nor would we view him in hiſtoric path,
His politics may rouſe up patriot wrath;
No writer can in many points excell;
We prize not writing much, but writing well;
Then, DOCTOR, ſtick to what we call thy own,
And ſport in fields of poeſy alone.
Come HOOLE, thou gentleſt of the tragic tribe,
Thou modeſt, temp'rate, unaffecting ſcribe;
In METASTASIO all thy genius lies,
Where nature fails, to borrow wit is wiſe;
CYRUS, TIMANTHES, pretty little tales,
Outweigh'd by Goſſamore in judgment's ſcales:
Like tinkling rills, thy rippling verſes ſound,
And yet with Mexican(50) applauſe are crown'd:
[35]Oh kindly age, that ſwallows good and bad,
Oh ſimple age, gone critically mad!
Witneſs—but wherefore ſhould we witneſs call,
Review our drama and confeſs it all.
KENRICK, we think, may ſtand, beyond diſpute,
As ſenſible, diſcerning, and acute;
But ſo engroſs'd with mathematic notion,
His thoughts all center in PERPETUAL MOTION.(51)
Without a queſtion, born to live by rule,
He ne'er can ſhine in a poetic ſchool;
And with the drama ſtill muſt be at ſtrife,
Unleſs he greatly mends his WIDOW'D WIFE.(52)
Come BICKERSTAFF, tho' late, not leaſt in love;
Full in review thou patch-work author move;
Who, with ſuch front, a brother's thoughts aſſumes:
Thou ſcribbling jay, deck'd forth with borrow'd plumes.
In ſecond-hand none can thy equals be;
Thy works the Monmouth-ſtreet of poetry.
[36]Some ſteal one half—but that for thee's too ſmall,
Thy mighty mind has ſtomach for it all:
Cut, ſlice, and pilfer, profit is thy own,
Whilſt thou lieſt proſtrate 'fore King DAVID's(53) throne;
He, like moſt other kings, can never want
Some ſubtle, ſoothing, ſervile ſycophant;
In ſuch a caſe it would be wond'rous hard
Not to repay a fawning, flatt'ring bard.
Come FRANKY GENTLEMAN, from LIFFEY's(54) ſide,
What frenzy can thee, as an author, guide?
Appear to ſwell our literary liſt,
Thou namby pamby, ROYAL FABULIST:(55)
Might'ſt thou not hope more prudently to thrive,
By clinking ſongs on WILKES and FORTY-FIVE?
Thou more than RUSSIAN(56) conqueror—whoſe pen—
O may we never meet its rage again!
[37]Has forc'd the DARDANELLES with hoſtile ſpeed,
And laid an hapleſs SULTAN low indeed;
Thou art another prologue-ſmith, ſtill fit
To ſhew, like DAVY, plenteous lack of wit.
HULL has good feelings, and poſſeſſes ſenſe,
Yet to an author's fame ſhews ſmall pretence;
Much better muſt he write, who hopes to riſe,
Than SPANISH LADIES, or PERPLEXETIES;(57)
To turn a period, or to clink a rhime,
With little wit, and leſs of the ſublime,
May be call'd writing, yet is waſte of time.
With much collegiate buckram ſtiff, and prim,
FRANKLIN(58) appears—it muſt, it muſt be him;
Great WARWICK's ghoſt purſues his ſteps, and cries,
Why was I made the worſt of tragedies?
Is there a muſe exiſting could inſpire,
So cold a ſcribe with mine or MARG'RATE's fire!
[38]With thee we both have found a wretched fate,
I roar a bully, ſhe a Billingſgate:
Oh, may contempt afford thee juſt reward,
Thou coxcomb preacher, and more coxcomb bard!
Rough as a rope-maker, lo! REED(59) comes forth;
In his own mind, of much poetic worth:
Yet DIDO ſure, and eke his TOMMY JONES,(60)
Inſtead of laurels, cry for broken bones:
But Madrigal with fair Trulletta join'd,
Shew they not brilliant parts, and mighty mind?
Burleſque at beſt we deem a bankrupt trade,
The worſt attempt which genius ever made;
A brat of envy born, of dullneſs bred,
Which ne'er can credit yield to heart or head;
A twiſt of thoughts, contortion of the brain,
That gives to decent taſte unequall'd pain;
[39]May hemp of all ſuch poets be the prize,
Ev'n MIDAS, though we laugh, we muſt deſpiſe.
The muſe, at length, with painful cenſure tir'd,
Meets with an author worthily admir'd;
Rival'd in ſtrength of character by few,
Rich in a fund of humour ever new;
Whoſe pregnant pencil takes from life each tint,
Whoſe thoughts are ſtamp'd in brilliant Fancy's mint;
Who never makes a vain, or feeble hit;
Terſe in his ſtile, and poliſh'd in his wit:
Copious in ſubject, yet compact in ſcenes,
Dull explanation never intervenes:
Each line, each perſon, under juſt controul,
Speaks to the heart, and beautifies the whole:
Laughter attends—ſpleen flies the houſe of joy,
Where GENIUS FOOTE and NATURE never cloy.
Acting, which now becomes a wretched trade,
We deem a ſcience—yet alas! betray'd
To ſordid views: while poor neglected Fame
Sinks into nothing but an empty name.
[40]Should one, too dull to fill a footman's place,
Chance to obtain RIGHT HONOURABLE grace,
The kindly maſter writes a kindly line,
And thinks the blockhead may an actor ſhine;
Kind managers moſt cringingly receive,
And credit to the awkward mandate give;
Afford to one, who cannot walk or ſpeak,
Perhaps, the ſum of TWENTY HOG(61) a week;
And complaiſantly bid him get by heart
A gentleman's, a beau's, or prince's part:
Indeed if princes on the ſtage are like
Some that we know; ſuch may a ſemblance ſtrike:
For ſad experience tells—ſay all we can,
What makes a PRINCE, can't make a GENTLEMAN.
Such patrons CHELSEA(62) oft and GREENWICH ſtain,
With the low voidings of their ſervile train,
As Covent-Garden deck and Drury-Lane.
[41]How vaſt the requiſites which ſerve to frame,
That man who would deſerve the player's name;
Yet ev'ry coxcomb fancies he is fit,
The complicated, arduous taſk to hit:
If taught(63) by GARRICK he muſt ſure ſucceed,
Of uſeleſs nature he can little need;
Oh wretched doctrine, baneful to the ſtage!
Let ev'ry parrot keep its proper cage.
A graceful perſon, and a feeling mind,
An education of the lib'ral kind:
Deportment eaſy, and conception clear,
A well-tun'd voice, and a diſcerning ear;
Fire in his eyes and meaning in his face,
That may diſcriptively each paſſion trace;
With ſolid judgement to conduct the whole—
Judgement of merit the eſſential ſoul.—
Muſt grace the theatre and pleaſe the croud,
Without ſuch mumming as is now allow'd;
[42]Without ſuch low chicane, ſuch paltry art,
As tricks the eyes, but can't affect the heart.
Oh GARRICK! 'tis with honeſt, ſocial pain
That we have prob'd thee in the failing vein;
But had our deareſt brother been to try,
We ſhould maintain impartiality:
Had all thy flatterers, in early life,
Set thee and critic niceties at ſtrife;
They might have made thy techy feelings ſore,
But errors had been leſs, and merit more.
Bold we approach and paint each public fault,
Without reſerve, or bitterneſs of thought;
Howe'er we ſeem, on truth you may depend;
Would ev'ry monarch had ſo juſt a friend:
What thou haſt been, with rapture we allow,
Yet, rather grieve to ſee thee acting now;
QUIN found his failing, in juſt time, and ſwore;
He ne'er for gain would whiſtle FALSTAFF more:
Victorious CHURCHILL(64) turn'd a child at laſt,
And with weak dotage ſtain'd his conqueſts paſt.
[43]Some twenty, or perhaps, ten years ago,
The world knew not thy equal: but how low
Have failing pow'rs reduc'd thee ſince that time?
Deſcription would ev'n wound ſatiric rhyme.
Thoſe eyes which then could animate the ſtage,
Now ſhew the glaze of ſwift declining age;
That voice, which once could pierce the dulleſt ear,
Drops its beſt notes, leſs muſically clear;
That perſon, ſhort by nature, made more ſhort
By corpulence; affords proportion ſport:
And criticiſm laughs, tho' not moſt ſtrict,
To ſee a butter-firkin BENEDICK.
Shall it be ſaid, that DAVID GARRICK ſhines;
When COMIC MAJESTY itſelf declines
To grace his merits by ſome kind commands:
Rather content with common vulgar hands?
No, let him cry, and ſhake a well-ſtuff'd purſe,
Bad as I am, my followers are worſe;
The fact is granted, weeping judgement ſays,
Yet by the grant yields very feeble praiſe.
[44]Thy carpenters, thy ſycophants and tools,
A ſet of artful knaves, or wretched fools;
Headed by brother GEORGE,(65) from royal Mews,
With fulſome ſtuff thy plyant ears abuſe;
Rather truſt thoſe who plainly, roughly chide,
And let infirmities ſuppreſs thy pride.
BARRY, who vegetated fair and long,
In perſon graceful, and in feelings ſtrong;
With voice harmonious, yet too apt to whine,
Muſic of ſound his principal deſign;
Meaſure of verſe not ſenſe beſpoke his care,
And rants were catch'd at, to make groundlings ſtare;
Without variety of action, ſtill
His arms and legs obey'd mechanic will;
Yet, with all faults, none more could flood each eye,
None better form'd to make the ladies ſigh;
Now, after various gallantries, devote
To that moſt paltry prop, a petticoat.
[45]So a tall oak the glory of the grove,
Whom Sylvan deities have view'd with love;
Feeling the gripe of all-devouring time,
No longer ſhews its ſtately head ſublime;
Shrinks at each blaſt, of ev'ry ſtorm afraid,
And bending, ſeeks a willow's feeble aid.
REDDISH, alike by nature and by art,
Is form'd incapable to touch the heart;
He ſtrives, indeed, through various ſhapes to pleaſe,
Without expreſſion, dignity or eaſe;
A voice ſo bounded, it was never meant,
To riſe above a moral ſentiment;
A figure clumſy, and a vulgar face,
Devoid of ſpirit as of pleaſing grace;
Action unmeaning, often miſapply'd,
Bleſs'd with no perfect attribute but pride;
Take heed, bold ſir, nor friendly caution ſlight,
In FRAMPTON, and that path, we deem thee right;
But when a hero takes thy awkward gait,
We laugh at both his paſſions, and his ſtate.
[46]PALMER, compos'd of more than common ſize,
With languid features, and more languid eyes;
Stalks a tall gauky on perception's rays,
Too ſlight for cenſure, and too dull for praiſe;
From hollow lungs he rumbles forth a ſound,
Enough all ſenſe and feeling to confound:
Emphaſis! oh vain, ſuperfluous word,
All rules for ſpeaking, actors deem abſurd;
None but a pedant would attempt to teach
By grammar ties, or paltry parts of ſpeech;
This GARRICK knows, and only plies with tricks,(66)
But leaves the meaning for themſelves to fix;
Or, fond of ſomething critical and new,
A meaning gives beyond the author's view.
What is a voice, tho' bleſs'd with ſilver tone,
If love's ſoft notes in ſing-ſong are made known?
What is a mellow medium, if each line
In dull monotony ſhews dull deſign?
Or what QUIN's deep-mouth'd baſe, if with a growl
It wounds each tender feeling of the ſoul?
[47]Rightly to rule, is truly to poſſeſs;
And, pow'rs well manag'd pleaſe us more, tho' leſs
Than thoſe luxuriances which weed like ſhew,
And ſerve to choak the gardens where they grow.
Who has not ſeen, upon rejoicing night,
Squibs ſputter, fret and bounce by partial light?
So elder AICKIN ſhatters tragic ſtrains,
And fritters nature with uncommon pains;
Struts, foams and roars; good lack! what noiſe he makes,
While ſenſe and harmony condemn his breaks;
Moſt cracker like he moves, a ſhort-liv'd joke,
Shines with falſe fire, and ſoon concludes with ſmoke.
Soft pair of youths, whom we muſt ne'er divide,
As beſt, or worſt, no mortal can decide:
MORPHEUS o'er both his leaden mace has caſt,
They ſleep, and walk, and talk, and ſleep at laſt;
Yet be not CAUTHERLEY, in doleful dumps,
Are you not happy in a QUEEN(67) of TRUMPS?
[48]And thou, oh, BRERETON! haſte to get another,
Then Cypher kindly may call Cypher brother.
LOVE, a ſoft name, but ſadly miſapply'd,
When giv'n to paltry petulance and pride;
Where was it found? 'midſt gentle Southern gales?
Oh no, where BOREAS rends reſiſting ſails;
In SCOTIA's clime; no wonder then 'tis rude;
That clime with ſoftneſs never was endu'd.
LOVE, as a ſerious actor, we deteſt,
With no one pleaſing, proper talent bleſs'd;
A face, where motionleſs compoſure ſits,
And ſhort-liv'd meaning only gleams by fits;
A bell-man's hollow voice, a bell-man's drone;
Who does not ſhudder at his CHRISTMAS tone?
With porter's gait, and action of a bear,
He claims more cenſure than the muſe can ſpare;
Indeed, when Boniface and Falſtaff call,
We ſit with patience, tho' the merit's ſmall;
For when the better is compar'd with worſe,
As LEAR obſerves, it lightens any curſe.
[49]HURST, a laborious, imitative drudge,
Of whom it gives us poignant pain to judge;
Diſcordant, ſtiff, nay, every thing that's bad
An heap of MOSSOP's errors, quite run mad:
Yet is this wretch, ſo managers will give,
In ſome parts, HOLLAND's repreſentative:
Oh, what a dreadful falling off is there,
From HOLLAND, who of faults had plenteous ſhare.
PACKER in all, through ev'ry caſt the ſame,
Toils to obtain a uſeful actor's name;
Oft is he ſeen, and gives as oft offence,
While his mean pow'rs, unmeaning ſounds diſpenſe;
When he aſſumes, or levity, or ſtate,
He SADDLES(68) critics with a grievous weight.
AICKIN, the younger, has ſome gifts to pleaſe,
Juſt ſenſibility and modeſt eaſe;
He aims not there where nature cannot reach,
But lets her guide his geſture and his ſpeech;
[50]The muſe concern'd, beholds the place he fills;
But all in vain, while ſo his tyrant wills;
Wiſhing ſhe could with ſuch perſuaſion ſpeak,
To gain him better parts, and add ſome pounds per week.
When JEFFERSON paints age in tragic ſtrains,
Judgement attends, nor ſlights his well-meant pains;
'Tis there he ſhines not with a radiant blaze,
Yet merit decks him with ſome pleaſing rays;
He vainly aims not at gigantic ſtrides,
But with diſcretion, medium feelings guides;
Much ſafer 'tis the middle path to run,
Than mount aloft to fall like PHAETON.
MOODY we praiſe, with all the warmth we can,
When he depicts the IRISH GENTLEMAN;
Nor ſtop we here, ſince he poſſeſſes ſenſe,
To keep from thoſe attempts might give offence;
May juſt reward his real merit crown,
Who well deſerves the favour of the town.
BURTON and BRANSBY, kindly yok'd together,
Dull, heavy, cold as dark NOVEMBER weather;
[51]Chill ev'ry ear, and puzzle ev'ry eye,
Through clouds their dubious meaning to deſcry;
And, gentle opiates, with compoſure bleſt,
Lull yawning audiences to perfect reſt.
INCHBALD, who long on NORFOLK dumplins fed,
Thoſe ſolid emblems of his ſolid head;
Imported to the capital, was ſhewn,(69)
As one well-form'd to mount the Tragic throne;
A firſt appearance ſmooth'd the thorny way,
Yet, candid judgement damn'd his wild eſſay;
The ſhade of CONGREVE felt each jarring ſtrain,
And fled ere Oſmyn could appear again.
DAVIS, a ſing-ſong man, of little worth,
The critic muſe relentingly brings forth;
Such feeble objects ſhould her laſh eſcape,
She ſhould not combat with a human ape.
[52]VERNON, in muſic, gains unbounded praiſe,
We to his acting yield applauſive lays;
Like GREENLAND's ſun, too little ſeen, he ſhines
Scarce half his time; but when he does, refines
The clouds of dullneſs which around him gloom,
Nonſenſe avaunt, and give true merit room!
PARSONS and HARTRY, with ſtrong pow'r of face,
Give ſportive humour oft ſucceſsful chace;
Yet each too feeble for a foremoſt ſtation,
Courts rather than commands our approbation.
WESTON, but wherefore need we ſpeak of him,
Begot by MOMUS upon Lady WHIM;
While laughing multitudes declare, with glee,
His face the eſſence of true comedy;
Nor does mechanic manner ſtiffly ſpoil
The pleaſure of involuntary ſmile;
SCRUB, ABEL-DRUGGER, SNEAK, and DOCTOR LAST,
Muſt ſtand unrival'd his peculiar caſt;
Tho' in MEDEA's kettle boil'd anew,
GARRICK would loſe by parallel review:
[53]Then happ'ly plac'd, beyond all public ſtrife,
Uſe, TOM, ſome caution in thy private life;
So ſhall not creditors enjoyment damp,
Nor ſordid MANAGERS thy income cramp.
DIBDIN, alas! we nearly had forgot,
Perhaps oblivion were the kindeſt lot:
How he compoſes, 'tis not fit, we ſay,
But grant kind ſtars that he may never play:
Nor, to enlarge our wiſh, may ever ſing;
MUNGO in this, in that, and ev'ry thing.
Why ſhares not BANNISTER, a fairer light?
He gives no umbrage unto critic ſight;
In many parts of weight he might be ſhewn,
With more than uſual pleaſure to the town;
Let him the taſk he's equal to approve,
And fill the vacant place of lumpiſh LOVE.
Who trips it, jantée, o'er the ſprightly ſcene,
A pretty, pert, ſignificant PANTINE?
DODD, who gives pleaſure both to ears and eyes,
Tho' duodecimo of human ſize.
[54]We think that BADDELEY can never miſs,
A crouching Frenchman, or a flatt'ring Swiſs;
Yet, for aught elſe, his talents are but ſmall;
This praiſe, perhaps, he cruelty may call:
But critics never juſtice ſhould retrench;
Let that be left to JUDGES on the bench:
They, in the quibble of almighty law,
At any time can find a ready flaw.
A flaw! what's that? a loophole(70) to eſcape,
Where wrong of right may take the pleaſing ſhape;
A ready paſſage litigation finds,
To pilfer pockets and impoſe on minds;
Oh, that the long-rob'd gentry would beware,
And yield poor honeſty a better ſhare!
Come laſt, tho' firſt, come pleaſant, ſprightly KING,
Of whom 'tis pleaſure, or to hear, or ſing;
From whoſe extended merit thouſands find,
The tranſports which attend a joyous mind:
Void of all art, with genius on thy ſide,
Genius thy never-failing friend and guide;
[55]Mimic of none, originally juſt,
Judgement approves thee—right—becauſe it muſt.
Thy eaſe, thy ſpirit, and thy features wrought,
Pregnant with ſenſibility of thought;
Thy juſt conception, and thy utt'rance free,
A pleaſing, matchleſs volubility:
All, all unite to give thy valued name,
The laughter-bearing ſtamp of comic fame.
Late may the STAGE thy loſs, oh! KING, lament,
Year after years in public ſervice ſpent;
May'ſt thou enjoy, retir'd, a life ſerene,
And meet with comfort thy concluſive ſcene;
That cannot fail, to him who keeps thy plan,
Ev'n death is pleaſure to an honeſt man.
The ladies!— ſoft!— a tender, tickliſh theme,
'Tis rudeneſs, of their faults to think or dream;
Weakneſs avaunt! truth muſt ſend forth her dart,
Though it ſhould glance a flutt'ring, female heart;
Politeneſs may condemn—complain who liſt—
But truth becomes an honeſt ſatiriſt;
[56]And we, jealous as any king who lives,
Claim this the firſt of our prerogatives.
Beauty we worſhip, and the ſex admire;
Their frowns muſt damp us, and their ſmiles inſpire;
Yet ANTONY's ſubmiſſion ne'er ſhall prove
In us, that criticiſm's loſt for love:
He to Aegyptian charms reſign'd a world,
In beauty's ſad deſpight our bolts are hurl'd.
Wherefore, oh time, ſhouldſt thou bring on decay,
Nor let ripe women, girls for ever play?
POPE was, ten years ago, a ſprightly laſs;
But will increaſe of fleſh now let her paſs?
Why not? plump DAVY, near on fifty-ſix,
Still perſeveres to play his boyiſh tricks;
Thro' ranger waddles, and is fond to dance,
Learn'd he ſuch tricks in Italy or France?—
CLAIRON(71) herſelf muſt at her prophet ſneer,
To ſee his age and ſize in youthful ſphere,
[57]And policy, we freely own, ſhould find,
Somewhat that's fatly ſimilar of kind;
For if, like rabbits, coupled fat and lean,
Defects of figure would be quickly ſeen;
Hence to thoſe taſtes, which are not very nice,
POPE may in CHERRY pleaſe, and BEATRICE:
We grant that CLIVE, when paſt Meridian life,
Too often wag'd with fit appearance ſtrife;
But nature could forgive her ſize and face,
For apt expreſſion, and well-ſuited grace;
Let's not recall the ſad remembrance paſt,
That loſing her, we've loſt her murder'd caſt.
Having thus ſaid, when HOPKINS comes in ſight,
That bane of laughter; poiſon of delight:
We grieve, and wonder that a lump ſo dull,
Should ever riſe beyond the Collier's(72) trull:
Should murder ladies— nay, ſometimes a queen;
'Till e'en good-nature falls into the ſpleen:
Muſt think the public eaſily beguil'd.
REDDISH, without a reliſh, we produce,
As profitleſs for pleaſure, as for uſe;
Worſe than a cypher— why? becauſe we find,
She moves a FIGURE of obnoxious kind:
Mere water-gruel, made moſt ſimply ſmall,
Of which one taſte ſufficiently will pall.
LOVE has ſome merit, yet of little ſtrength,
She ne'er ſhould riſe above a ſingle length:(74)
And BRADSHAW, likewiſe, was by nature meant
To ſtand within the ſame predicament;
Tho' we confeſs her AUDREY is a ſtore
Of Comic humour, makes us wiſh for more.
AMBROSE and EGERTON, a diſmal pair,
Not worth the critic's or the poet's care.
[59]YOUNGE, who ſet out,(75) as few will do again,
And boldly breeches ſeiz'd in IMOGEN;
Wants not good pow'rs for kindled love or rage,
Yet, can ſhe not in either much engage;
In action ſtiff, oft diſſonant in tone,
Her requiſites ungraciouſly are ſhewn;
Yet, as our Theatres at preſent ſtand,
A poſt of honour ſhe may well command:
She too was baniſh'd by a pittance ſmall,
'Till, liſt'ning to HIBERNIA's friendly call,
That kindly ſoil to dawning merit true,
Improv'd, return'd her to the public view;
GARRICK awak'd, who, pining, gave her more,
Than his pinch'd ſoul deny'd to her before.
BARRY has long a pleaſing fav'rite reign'd,
And warm applauſe, by ſterling merit gain'd;
So much in ſerious ſcenes ſhe gives delight,
We wiſh to ſee her each returning night:
[60]Mark her, enraptur'd, tread th' enliven'd ſtage,
Weep with her grief, and ſhudder with her rage;
In all her various paſſions ſympathize,
And even gaze with tranſport on her EYES.(76)
Here let us pauſe— to breathe a wiſh ſincere,
That ſhe may keep within her proper ſphere;
Nor venture COMEDY of lighter kind;
With laughter ſhe can never touch the mind:
Her Tragic walk is ſtriking, rich and wide,
Enough to gratify e'en female pride:
Why then intrude on ſpirited compeers?
Is't not enough to ſhine the queen of tears?
Come at our call, whom all with joy muſt ſee,
The gay Theatrical EUPHROSYNE:
Whoſe ev'ry movement ſhews peculiar grace,
Whoſe arch expreſſion cheers the dulleſt face;
Whoſe elegance and ſpirit, aptly join'd,
Pour matchleſs pleaſure on each critic mind;
[61]Aſk you her name?—who has not view'd the ſun?
Such only ſhould be told — 'tis ABINGTON;
And yet, this foremoſt merit of our time,
Merit, which CHURCHILL ſcarce could paint in rhime;
Merit, with gen'ral approbation crown'd,
Treads but a narrow, a penurious round:
Clarinda, Beatrice and Townly claim,
Th' enliv'ning honour of her fav'rite name;
With many more; yet, vainly plead their cauſe,
For managers will make th' abſurdeſt laws;
But let them blunder— tho' we ſeldom view,
Yet, ABINGTON muſt charm us when we do.
Of DRURY's long et cetera we ſay,
That ſome much better, in their ſtations, play;
Than plume-crown'd heroes of ſuperior rank,
And ſuch for their endeavours we muſt thank;
Yet, being placed too low for public ſame,
'Twould be but ſuperfluity to name.
[...]
THE VIEW OF COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE.
[]Bad has begun, and worſe remains behind.
View COLMAN in the lap of Mother Shiptonl
A better Subject Satire never whipt on.
TO COVENT-GARDEN, reader, turn thy eyes,
With painful feelings and increas'd ſurprize;
For, who would think the ſtage could yet produce,
On public favour, ſtill more rank abuſe,
[64]Than what we've ſhewn? yet, oh! ſad truth to tell,
DRURY, 'midſt wretchedneſs, yet bears the belle;
Shines o'er her ſiſter, tho' with feeble light,
And, tho' deplorable, is ſtill more bright.
See curious COLMAN, negligent of merit,
Of Tragic energy, and comic ſpirit;
Palm on his ſervile partners, and the town,
Abject and vile dependants of his own;
Let him of friends and miſtreſſes have ſtore,
We kindly wiſh he had as many more;
But, why ſhould he, like ſome amongſt the great,
Make whores and fav'rites penſioners of ſtate;
Or, why ſhould we, obedient to his whim,
Glibly take down whatever pleaſes him?
Taſte is, indeed, reduc'd to diſmal paſs,
Beneath controul of this aſſuming aſs.
For aſs he is, who ſo miſtakes his ſtation,
As to affront th' indulgence of a nation;
The time may come, nor can be diſtant far,
When judgment muſt commence ſucceſsful war:
[65]When Genius will revive from ſecond birth,
And cruſh this pigmy tyrant into earth.
The loweſt muſe muſt ſuffer pain, to ſtoop
To ſuch a motley, indigeſted group;
Where lights are all ſo faint, and ſhades ſo ſtrong,
Where right ſo ſeldom takes the place of wrong;
Where ignorance prevails, with boundleſs pride,
And talents, which might pleaſe, are miſapply'd;
Where each man thinks he amply does his duty,
And ev'ry woman thinks herſelf a beauty;
'Tis a hard taſk to paint them as we ought,
Almoſt beyond the ſtretch of words, or thought;
And if we ſhould per-chance make dullneſs feel,
"'Tis breaking butterflies upon a wheel."
Ross, whom we cannot, take him all in all,
With poignant CHURCHILL, a misfortune call,
Wants but the ſpur of diligence to pleaſe,
Bleſs'd with uncommon harmony and eaſe;
Sometimes we own, his words confeſs a doſe;
And kindly call an audience to repoſe:
[66]Sometimes on GREEN BOXES, he turns his eyes,
When ſome affecting paſſion ought to riſe;
Faults we admit, of aggravated kind,
To ſenſibility of eyes and mind:
Yet, when from droniſh indolence he breaks,
And to the meaning of his author wakes,
We muſt applaud; tho' ſtill we may regret,
A gem of nature, negligently ſet:
Bad as he is, we ſhall not ſtop to own,
At COVENT he ſhould mount the ROSCIAN throne;
For ſtill more excellence, we boldly deem,
Found in his ſleep than other's waking dream.
Oh SAVIGNY! poor SAVIGNY! alas! and oh!
Who could a creature of thy fabric ſhew?
Made of ſuch droſs, that not a ray of ſoul,
No ſpark PROMETHEAN animates the whole:
Why, at the full meridian of thy days,
Didſt thou ſo vainly ſeek for public praiſe?
Why, as an ACTOR, at ſuch point of age,
Attempt to ſtrut thy hour upon the ſtage?
[67]Why madly make ſo terrible a choice,
Of judgement void— of figure!— features!— voice?
Why to contempt ſpur on, with matchleſs ſpeed?
A fool at forty, is a fool indeed.
Could not the temp'ring honeſt ſteel ſuffice?
Let ſurgeons' inſtruments ſuſtain thy riſe:
For ſpouting— inſignificant as thine—
Will never make thy fame or pocket ſhine;
If by impartial audiences diſdain'd,
Tho' by a ſelfiſh manager retain'd;
Shake off the monkey's mean, deſigning claw;
Nor, cat-like, furniſh a convenient paw:
'Tis pitiful, whatever GEORGE may ſay,
To march a colonel with an enſign's pay(77)
What ſhade of merit comes— ſo void of pith?
'Tis ſimp'ring, ſpirited, and ſqualling SMITH:
Perch'd on the utmoſt ſummit of his voice,
Utt'rance proclaims Monotony his choice;
RICHARD, CASTALIO are but change of name,
We find him everlaſtingly the ſame:
[68]Smooth-ſounding ſing-ſong iſſues from his throat—
Regard not emphaſis, obſerve the note:
Seek ye, oh, cruel auditors! for ſenſe?
A ſhrill-ton'd voice makes ample recompenſe:
No actor, ſure, was e'er more vilely claſs'd,
None e'er ſo faulty, with ſuch fortune paſs'd;
If thou haſt modeſty, SMITH, ne'er preſume,
To ſtep beyond the path of CAPTAIN PLUME:
For ſcenes genteel, give up all Tragic rage,
A gentleman both on and off the ſtage.
BENSLEY— good heav'ns! what language ſhall we find
To paint this ſtrangeſt creature of his kind:
This old, this new, this rumble jumble play'r,
This prince of ſtrides, and monarch of wild ſtare:
This awkward thing, which neither chaunts, nor ſays,
But by a kind of blund'ring inſtinct plays.
Mark how his peeviſh features, ſtrain and ſtrive,
In vain, to keep his characters alive;
See long, ungraceful, wide expanded arms,
With a large catalogue of equal charms;
[69]Join'd to a voice— oh wonderful alliance!
That muſic ſets, and meaning at defiance.
Moſt, in a wide diverſity will ſhew,
Some gleams of merit, if they cannot glow:
But this ſtrange ACTOR, for we ſtrange muſt call,
One who ſhews like deficiency in all;
Was form'd by nature on peculiar plan,
Or rather by ſome bungling journeyman;
Yet, he's a fav'rite, and as ſuch muſt paſs;
Thus COLMAN makes each auditor an aſs.
Whom ſhould the muſe in due ſucceſſion mark?
'Tis that ſame tolerable third-rate CLARKE:
Oh, may he never riſe to higher place,
Who wants fit feelings, and eſſential grace;
In medium ſtile, where nought affecting's meant,
We think him capable to give content;
And warmly wiſh, an honeſt truth to tell,
The flimzy leaders fill'd their poſts as well.
Patience is ſhock'd, and reaſon render'd dull:
Yield them ſome ſuccour, modeſt, feeling HULL.
[70]'Tis true, thy pow'rs, by nature are but ſlight;
Yet, well-diſpos'd, they often give delight:
Thou doſt not mouth, nor rant, nor ſtrut, nor ſtare,
Nature's thy guide— each author's ſenſe thy care:
Yet, ſad neceſſity, ſometimes we find,
Impoſes taſks of prejudicial kind;
From walking gentlemen keep ever free,
Nor ſigh ſoft plaints of love in tragedy:
Gain parts, which to the verge of nature laſt,
Paternal feelings are thy proper caſt:
Poſſeſs'd of ſuch, it will compleat thy plan,
And match the ACTOR with the WORTHY MAN.
WROUGHTON! what ſoil gave this ſame ſtrippling birth?
We know not, nor will call it fertile earth;
For ſuch a weed theatrical ne'er grew,
Unleſs where dullneſs ſheds her heavy dew:
They muſt have keener optics, who can trace
One gleam of meaning in his vacant face,
Than we can boaſt of; and his voice, we own,
To us marks inſipidity of tone;
[71]Wretched, indeed, we think that author's doom;
Whoſe ſenſe in his conception finds a tomb;
Yet he, like BENSLEY meets from GEORGE(78) ſupport;
Thus blockheads make their way at ev'ry court.
We ne'er have ſeen, and happ'ly never may,
A more correct, or chaſte performer play
Than YATES; who, in his proper ſtile,
A cynic of ſome laughter muſt beguile;
Without one gleam of paltry, trickful art,
By nature led, he glides upon the heart;
Traces the path, where judgement ſtrikes a line,
And juſtly ſcorns by low fineſſe to ſhine;
Diſpaſſionate applauſe rewards his toils,
And reaſon titles him the KING of SMILES.
For approbation, why does SHUTER ſoar?
Is all his aim to hear the gall'ries roar?
'Tis pitiful ambition— worthleſs fame—
Tho' all St. GILES's ecchoes with his ſame:
'Tis true, each man enjoys peculiar taſte,
Nor males, nor females, can be always chaſte;
[72]Yet, ev'ry ſphere of life ſhould take for guide,
A decent quantum of becoming pride.
Good-natur'd NED, with public favour drunk,
Ne'er frowns upon a gambler, or a punk;
In public, and in private, ſpeaks his jokes;
Laughs at the ſun, and thinks them witty ſtrokes:
Let friendſhip lay this truth before his eyes,
He that's ſo merry, is but ſeldom wiſe;
And tell him of a ſwift-approaching age,
When loſt to action, he muſt quit the ſtage:
What pain to think, that mirth and pleaſure paſt,
Life ſhould convert to tragedy at laſt;
Avert the ſtorm, in time; lay by ſome pence;
They'll yield thee comfort, and proclaim thy ſenſe;
Stick by thee, when the hoſt of midnight friends,
Who laugh and follow, but for private ends;
Stand far aloof and follies paſt condemn,
Leſt thy neceſſities ſhould call on them:
Excuſe this freedom, on theſe truths depend,
They are the language of a zealous friend.
[73]Old dog-trot DUNSTALL keeps the beaten way,
And very ſeldom mends, or mars a play;
QUICK riſes, with advantage to our view,
Better than moſt, ev'n now ſurpaſs'd by few:
Some cultivation, through ſome ſeaſons more,
His talents will command the jocund roar;
Unleſs his worth the manager ſhould trace,
And for his merit doom him to diſgrace.
KNIVETON, preſumptively, ſhould never bring
His talents in compariſon with KING;
Yet, he has merit in the comic ſtrain,
Tho' all attempts in tragedy are vain.
In dialogue a diſmal, wretched thing,
DU-BELLAMY ſhould never ſpeak, but ſing;
The notes of muſic bear him thro' with eaſe,
In theſe alone he may expect to pleaſe.
DYER was never any thing to boaſt,
A ſufferable coxcomb, at the moſt;
Now ſinking faſt into the vale of years,
The remnant of a remnant he appears.
[74]GARDNER may ſafely walk the middle way,
A greater compliment we cannot pay;
Stiff in his figure, bounded in his voice,
Seconds or firſts ſhould never be his choice.
YOUNGER! who's that? a Prompter, juſt broke looſe,
To liſp forth characters— what ſtrange abuſe!
That one by nature happily deſign'd,
To guide the buſineſs of the ſtage behind,
Should ſtalk a ſpectacle in ſolemn ſcenes,
While half the audience knows not what he means;
For ſhame, keep pride within the bounds of ſenſe,
Nor let ſuch acting madneſs give offence.
MATTOCKS has little, or to praiſe, or blame,
If any, he can boaſt but lukewarm fame;
Unmov'd, we hear him either ſing or ſay;
His pow'rs can never make us grave, or gay.
Come, chearful HAL, whom time, with gentle hand,
Hath kindly ſtrok'd, conclude the comic band;
Lively, deſcriptive, graceful WOODWARD, come,
With merit that may ſtrike e'en malice dumb;
[75]CHURCHILL— the beſt abſurdities advance,—
When he beheld thee, view'd with eyes aſkaunce;
Elſe, had he judg'd impartially thy cauſe,
He muſt have honour'd thee with warm applauſe:
For ſure, in Fops, and parts of outrè kind,
All thy competitors fall far behind:
All muſt acknowledge thy ſuperior glee,
In the gay caſt of laughing Comedy;
Yet, let us own, and take it as a friend,
We cannot ſea-bred IRONSIDES commend;
Too ſtrain'd in attitude, too ſtiff in ſpeech,
The plain, rough Tar you cannot juſtly reach;
And we acknowledge, with reluctant will,
Thro' all his ſcenes we trace thy BOBADIL:
Thy ſtudy'd grace is a laborious plan,
And ſhews too oft the PICTURE of a MAN:
Yet, we behold with pleaſure, and admire,
Thy ſportful countenance, thy youthful fire;
While ſome reflections on GEORGE COLMAN(79) ceaſe,
For making thee an article of peace.
[76]MACKLIN, now got beyond her youthful bloom,
Why was the ſtage, ſhe never liked, her doom?
Exerts her ſtinted pow'rs, with ſome applauſe,
Tho' fetter'd with a father's rigid laws:
We cannot mechaniz'd inſtructions love,
Nature, ſo trammell'd, cannot freely move;
Hence dull correctneſs active Genius binds,
And reſts inſipidly on critic minds.
BULKLEY and BAKER, pretty women both,
To ſpeak againſt them gallantry is loth;
But, howſoe'er good-nature may condole,
To praiſe their beauty, is to praiſe the whole.
Next come a pair, with conſtant pleaſure ſeen,
Tho' plain of perſons, PITT we ſhew, and GREEN;
They move, they ſpeak, they mark, the author's thought,
And prove their merit is from nature caught:
By much the beſt, as far as they engage,
Of any females now on either ſtage.
[77]What ſhall we ſay of LESSINGHAM, the fair,
She has of managers been long the care;
Oh, that regard would make her all their own,
And ſnatch a taſteleſs milkſop from the town;
One who for parts eternally would fight,
Without the ſenſe, or talents, to be right.
KNIVETON, a bauble, fit for childiſh view,
Who ſcarce to Gipſey(80) could afford her due;
KNIVETON, as bad as poſſible to think,
Irkſome to hear, as dead ſmall beer to drink.
VINCENT, whoſe age cries loudly for the fund(81)
By ev'ry eye of nice diſtinction ſhunn'd;
Abhorr'd by ev'ry tender-feeling ear,
Is yet brought forward in a youthful ſphere;
Would, ſhe diſplay'd ſuch worth in public life,
As ſhe has ſhewn in mother, friend, and wife;
Applauding multitudes might then contend,
Who ſhould ſtand foremoſt her aſſiſting friend.
MILLER, by favour more than nature bleſs'd,
Of foremoſt characters we ſee poſſeſs'd;
[78]What madneſs guides, what partial planet reigns.
When inſignificance ſuch influence gains?
Judgement, with calmeſt patience join'd, muſt frown,
When one hand mounts, to let the other down;
When grief or declamation drooping flags,
And ſcreech-owl ſcreams tear paſſion into rags:
Give us a ſample, gods! of better ſtore,
Or let us never ſee an actreſs more.
Once, in FOOTE's pieces, GARDNER gave us joy,
But bawls repeated, all her pow'rs deſtroy;
No doubt ſhe thinks herſelf monſt'rous fine,
And yet is BILLINGSGATE in ev'ry line.
MATTOCKS, to grant what ſhe may claim as due,
Stands in a favourable point of view;
Spirit, expreſſion, and ſome pleaſing tones,
For comic archneſs, or for tragic moans;
A figure happily diſpos'd, tho' ſmall,
Striking in nought— agreeable in all:
Sometimes too earneſt in deſire to pleaſe,
She ſteps beyond the boundaries of eaſe;
[79]Forces her features into painful ſtate,
And rather ſinks— attempting to be great:
Yet few, for gen'ral uſe, can rivals ſtand;
Or ſuch applauſe, in various lights, command:
Perhaps, not one— then let our cordial lays
Give, what they joy to give, impartial praiſe.
When public favour warmly ſtamps regard,
To criticize is perilous and hard;
The loud-mouth'd multitude ruſh ſweeping by,
And, hound-like, follow as the leaders cry;
Yet, their mad favour, e'en from WILKES to BUTE,
We often find a paltry proſtitute;
So, in the mimic ſtate, 'tis faſhion's laws,
Not merit, calls forth for popular applauſe:
Thus juſtice from her equilibrium ſwerves,
Hence YATES enjoys more than ſhe deſerves.
Puff'd with importance, and a ſweeping train,
Behold ſhe comes— inſufferably vain;
Obſerve her countenance uplifted high,
Pride on her brow, and fury in her eye;
[80]Mildneſs or love ſhe cannot repreſent,
On haughtier ſubjects are her feelings bent:
In rage, we freely grant, ſhe can excell,
Who plays a tragic termagant ſo well?
When grief ſhe ſtruggles for, 'tis harſh and coarſe,
Indelicately ſwell'd with needleſs force;
Her clock-work action painful ſtudy ſhews,
In ſpeech, or movement, nature never glows:
'Tis true, that plac'd among the bad, ſhe ſhines,
As feeble lamps may light the womb of mines;
But, ſhould a gleam of ſun-ſhine ſtrike the ſight,
Such pallid fires would ſink in endleſs night.
Thus ends our painful taſk— a taſk, indeed—
Enough to make good-natur'd boſoms bleed;
Why ſhould we, Caeſar(82) like, anatomize,
And ſeem to triumph in diſſecting flies?
The anſwer's plain; in ſuch a patient age,
'Tis juſt to rouze and vindicate the ſtage.
FINIS.
Notes
*
Vide 2d Volume of DODSLEY's Collection of POEMS.
(1).
Maſter taylor at Drury-Lane.
(2).
This gentleman, once proprietor of a puppet ſhow in Edinburgh, is houſe and box book-keeper, remarkable for OECONOMY, obſequiouſneſs and taſte in decorations by which he has accumulated ſome thouſands.
(3).
This laurel-crowned Eſquire, was a barber, attempted to be an actor, became a treaſurer, then a manager in Dublin; where, in fortune's frolics, though not able to write a dying ſpeech, he was appointed Birth-day Ode Man, and—oh poor Ireland!—his wife complimented with a penſion. He is now treaſurer of Drury-Lane.
(4).
Vide his Lives of the Actors.
(5).
Mr. DELANE, an actor of great merit, and a valuable member of ſo⯑ciety, had two peculiarities on the ſtage, which Mr. GARRICK took off, and rendered him ſo ridiculous, that he was conſtantly laughed at; having generous, though week feelings, Mr. DELANE took to drinking, and in reality broke his heart.
(6).
Mr. GARRICK when attacked in the ſame ſtile by Mr. FOOTE, declared his diſapprobation of ſuch exhibitions in ſtrong terms.
(6).
This excellent performer was originally refuſed by Mr. GARRICK, as unfit for the ſtage; and immediately after brought out by that ready encou⯑rager of merit Mr. SHERIDAN.
(7).
Theſe two performers were brought out under the moſt avaricious terms, and according to their ſtations did not receive half of what their per⯑formance and the receipts of the theatre intitled them to.
(8).
This is not meant to depreciate Mr. GARRICK's indiſputable original merit; but the ſad, adulterated imitations of it; of which Mr. HOLLAND, who had ſuperior requiſites to Mr. POWELL was a ſtiff and painful inſtance.
(9).
Taking away the candle rings, and lighting from behind—the only advantage we have diſcovered from Mr. GARRICK's tour abroad.
(10).
Mr. HOME's Douglas was refuſed till perſecution gave it a name in Scotland, and the thane patronized its author; then two much worſe plays were obſequiouſly produced.
(11).
Mr. GARRICK's reſidence.
(12).
Mr. Cumberland's father is in that ſtation. An excellent reaſon for the ſon's being a genius, which he modeſtly avouches himſelf to be, in his prologue to the Brothers.
(13).
A phraſe in Ireland for groſs, ignorant, ſycophantic flattery.
(14).
Mr. GARRICK ſtiles himſelf a prologue ſmith.
(15).
Since this piece has been compoſed, we hear that Mr. Colman's brother patentees, after having wiſely ſpent ſome thouſands in litigation, have tamely ſubmitted to move under his leaden ſceptre.
(16).
Late prince of Wales.
(17).
Words uſed by his preſent majeſty in his firſt ſpeech to parliament, which intimated, with magnanimity, that natural affection would cauſe him, not only to maintain the conſtitution, but patronize ALL the uſeful arts and ſciences, as well as painting, watch-making, and button-making.
(18).
Which always ſprings from court.
(19).
The comedy of MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, though far from one of SHAKESPEARE's beſt plays, is almoſt the only one countenanced by com⯑mands; and was rather whimſically fixed on two nights after the funeral of that deliverer of his country, WILLIAM, DUKE of CUMBERLAND.
(20).
His late royal highneſs had formed a deſign to beſpeak all SHAKESPEARE's acting plays, one a week, which was partly put in practice; he, alſo, cauſed the princes his ſons to act in Cato, Lady Jane Gray, &c. to give them an idea of public ſpeaking: if the preſent young branches of roy⯑alty ſhould be placed in ſuch a ſituation, we are fearful of hearing that they are to exhibit Dogberry and Verges—ſet me down an aſs, would have a ſad ominous ſound.
(21).
A phraſe we have conveniently uſed for epiſcopated.
(22).
few have reached a mitre ſo ſoon as the preſent biſhop of Litchfield and Coventry.
(23).
The ſcum of the earth being in a violent ferment, attacked the gentle premier, and, oh lamentable tale! tore—his hat in pieces.
(24).
John, earl of Rocheſter, to whom the preſent earl of Sandwich is an exemplary contraſt.
(25).
There is a couched meaning here, which we leave to the intellegent reader.
(26).
The firſt of theſe four ſtateſmen has done—nothing; the ſecond has divorced his wife, married her couſin, and got a blue ribband; chancellorſhip of Cambridge; and now privy-ſeal, for avoiding the ſtorm, which himſelf had, in a great meaſure, raiſed; the third is an excellent judge of French wine; and the fourth, preſident of the council, under direction of his wife.
(27).
Our able ſecretary at war, whoſe humanity is well known.
(28).
A peerleſs ſteward of the houſhold; who had put Dr. Cadogan's abſtemious ſcheme in practice, before his pamphlet came out.
(29).
A beautiful figurative expreſſion of that reſiſtleſs orator.
(30).
This upright chief juſtice, in the Groſvenor cauſe, acted quite dif⯑ferent from his predeceſſor, in Henry the IVth's time; the latter confined the prince of Wales, only for an affront to his dignity; the former palliated an affront offered to the law of GOD, by his royal confidant.
(31).
So many, as we remember, petitioned for the Kennedy's, without the ſhadow of exculpation.
(32).
Commentator on Shakeſpeare; one of the moſt amiable, humble, humane creatures breathing; wherefore, we have ſingled him out as an or⯑nament to the woolſack gentry; not but there are ſeveral of nearly equal merit.
(33).
The infamous miniſter of that infamous monarch Tiberius Caeſar; a prince depraved by nature, yet rendered worſe by his overgrown favourite.
(34).
Magna Charta ſeems to have been ſlumbering ſeveral years; but of late has fallen faſt aſleep: ſhould the liberty of the preſs fall into the ſame lethargic ſtate, then, with Razor in the upholſterer, we may cry, poor old England.
(35).
Mr. Wilkes's reſidence, that political Leviathan, who ſhould be ſtrictly guarded againſt, leſt to him, like the dragon of Wantley, houſes and chur⯑ches ſhould be mere geeſe and turkies.
(36).
The day commonly honoured with royal commands.
(36).
Let any perſon who doubts this moſt diſgraceful aſſertion, only go through the irkſome taſk of attendance and dependance, which SWIFT em⯑phatically ſtiled a curſe, and he will be feelingly convinced, that we only advance truth in a modeſt garb.
(37).
We have coined this word, as not knowing any in the language adequate to our ideas of the laureat's annual productions.
(38).
Summer's Tale, Brothers, and Weſt-Indian, to which applauded in⯑congruities we refer for proof of the changes brought againſt this author, who, as we hear, teems with many more of the ſame kind. Dreadful idea!
(39).
We do not, by mention of Mr. Kelly's original profeſſion, mean an illiberal reflection; as it is our candid opinion, that a good ſtay-maker may be deemed a more reſpectable member of ſociety, than a middling author: though it muſt be confeſſed, he cannot ſo ſoon commence ESQUIRE.
(40).
Though Mr. Kelly's comedy of a Word to the Wiſe, was treated in a moſt illiberal manner, yet certain it is, that the riot did him great ſervice, ſince, without oppoſition, the piece would have had a ſpeedy natural death, without the advantage of a ſubſcription; for ſuch a phlegmatic affair was never compoſed before, and we hope never may again.
(41).
Several impotent attempts at patriotic ſtrokes were made in this im⯑potent tragedy; which, if derived from the Ledger eſſayiſt, muſt be double dealing with a witneſs.
(42).
That brilliant, ſenſible, polite knight, Sir Robert Ladbroke, at whoſe inſtance, it is aſſerted, Mr. Kelly writes.
(43).
The morning after Mr. WILKES was choſen alderman, a gentleman in the Somerſet Coffee-Houſe, who had read his addreſs of thanks to the livery; remarked, that it was the dulleſt production he had ever ſeen from the new magiſtrate's pen: to which, a perſon in the ſame box, not unaptly replied, Do you wonder at that ſir? conſider he was made an ALDERMAN yeſterday.
(44).
What pity that a man who knows nothing of practical life, who is a mere bookworm, ſhould expoſe himſelf floundering like an unſkillful ſwim⯑mer in the unfathomable depths of policy, for the ſake of a penſion, which, while he had power to enjoy life, he did without; and for which, when obtained, he had very little, if any, occaſion.
(45).
We have heard a circumſtance of Mr. GARRICK, which, if not ſtrictly true, is ſo like him, that we venture to ſet it down; being indiſ⯑poſed, he aſked his ſervant what enquiries after his health; ſome compli⯑mentary cards were preſented; he looked over them, and finding they were only from ſome eſquires, and a baronet or two, he cried, What! has no lord ſent, John!—no ſir; then throw theſe paltry compliments into the fire: the nobility muſt all be ſick too, or they could not have neglected me.
(46).
LORD LYTTLETON.
(47).
George Column, Eſq the ruling pattentee of Covent-Garden.
(48).
We don't mean by this, and the preceding lines, any ungenerous reflection; a man of merit we eſteem, however born, but think arrogance ſullies even bright abilities, and the nobleſt deſcent.
(49).
Two evening papers, of which the managers are proprietors; there⯑fore every defence of their impoſitions and abſurdities, however vague, is greedily admitted: indeed we believe every thing favourable is written by themſelves, for certainly no other perſon, ſave a fool or a flatterer, would undertake ſo impracticable a juſtification.
(50).
Alluding to the gold mines, ſome produce of which Mr. Hoole has luckily fingered, for his feeble theatrical tranſlations.
(51).
This author has been long riding a chimerical hobby horſe, which we fear, will at laſt throw him.
(52).
A comedy by Mr. Kenrick.
(53).
Mr. Garrick.
(54).
The river which runs through Dublin.
(55).
This adventurous bard, about five years ago, produced a volume of fables for the prince of Wales: In this his policy and poetry keep equal pace; if it would not ſeem a national reflection, we might call it a palpable blunder to carry verſe and ſome truth to a court, where neither was ever welcome.
(56).
Alludes to a ſleepy tragedy, with ſome good lines, barbarouſly mur⯑dered at the Haymarket, and afterwards printed for the uſe of paſtry-cooks, &c.
(57).
Two very lukewarm pieces by Mr. Hull.
(58).
Who knows not the reverend tranſlator of Socrates &c. &c. &c? Who ſeems better acquainted with Greek than Engliſh poetry.
(59).
This gentleman is ſo tenacious of an author's name, and withal ſo choleric, that it is a ſervice of ſome danger to find even the ſlighteſt fault; however, impartiality leads on to the charge; and we hope he won't return the laſh of criticiſm, by aſſailing us with a cat-o'-nine-tails formed of his own manufacture.
(60).
A flimzy Tragedy, and drowſy Comic Opera, engendered and brought forth by Mr. REED.
(61).
A theatrical, and St. Giles's phraſe for twenty ſhillings.
(62).
There are ſeveral methods which the great have of quartering do⯑meſtics on the public; if they can write, the cuſtoms and the exciſe; if they cannot; Chelſea, Greenwich, or the ſtage: though they never carried a muſquet, wore trouſers, nor can diſtinguiſh Shakeſpeare from a news-paper.
(63).
Mr. Garrick has been ever remarkably fond of teaching; we wonder he does not equip every male performer with cloaths of his own ſize, they would moſtly fit as well as his manner—he found the ſtage with good actors, how many will he leave on it—then what has teaching done?
(64).
John, duke of Malbro', who, in his latter days, like Swift, lapſed into a lamentable childiſhneſs.
(65).
Mr. George Garrick was, by his brother's intereſt, ſeveral years ſince, elevated to the high ſtation of ſtablekeeper at the royal Mews; and is, if fame ſays true, firſt puff trumpet to king David.
(66).
Commonly call'd ſtage buſineſs, often eſſential, but oftner uſed as a take in, to thoſe who have more eyes than underſtanding.
(67).
Mr. Cautherly married, laſt ſummer, a daughter of Mr. Blanchard, Card-maker, with ſeveral thouſand pounds to her fortune: as GREAT perſo⯑nages very ſeldom ſay good things; we are prompted to record, that one of the firſt characters in this kingdom, ſeeing a handſome houſe built by Mr. Blanchard, aſk'd who own'd it? being inform'd the royal card-maker; why then, ſays he, I think all his CARDS have turned up TRUMPS.
(68).
Mr. Packer is a very reputable Saddler; though a miſerable actor; however, he has ſo many to keep him in countenance, as to his theatrical de⯑ficiency, that he may go on without bluſhing.
(69).
Mr. Inchbald, though many years an itinerant hero, was, according to the modern paltry ſtage-policy, introduced under that ſtale device, a firſt appearance: this is a trick to gain, from curioſity, what may pay by one night the whole ſeaſon's pitiful ſalary of ſuch actors; ſeveral muſhrooms have vegetated thus; but none more worthleſs, or ſhort-lived, than Mr. Owenſon; brought modeſtly forward in Tamerlane, ſome weeks ſince; without even the requiſites of a grown-up ſchool-boy.
(70).
This term is taken from Mr. FOOTE's Devil on ſticks.
(71).
A mad French actreſs, of whoſe excellence Mr. Garrick not only choſe to prophecy; but put his infallible opinion at the bottom of an oſten⯑tatious print— though it is an undoubted fact, that there never was a natural FRENCH actor or actreſs.
(72).
Collier's wife, Recruiting Officer.
(73).
This word we uſe becauſe the lady's huſband is Prompter; and, as we are informed, the Lord Bute of Drury-Lane theatre.
(74).
A length, in the language of a Theatre is, as we are told, two ſides, manuſcript, of a quarter of a ſheet of paper.
(75).
It was rather a breach of female delicacy, and diffidence for this lady, to make a firſt appearance in this character.
(76).
The author of Theſpis, becauſe Mrs. Barry is near-ſighted, and has rather a peculiarity of look, was cruelly rude enough to call her a wall-ey'd Idiot.
(77).
This, we are told, is Mr. Savigny's caſe.
(78).
Colman, Eſquire.
(79).
Mr. Woodward was moſt ignorantly and illiberally excluded by the quarrel between the managers, now reſtored, not very cordially, we believe, by their reconciliation, which alſo obtained Mr. Macklin the opportunity of five nights performance.
(80).
Beau Stratagem.
(81).
The proviſion for ſuperannuated performers, planned and humanely promoted, as we have been told, by Mr. HULL.
(82).
Domitian, remarkable for Fly-killing.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4209 The theatres A poetical dissection By Sir Nicholas Nipclose Baronet. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5EF3-9