THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 V 
 
 ~,'J.\-. ,..v.
 
 FAMILIAR EPISTLES 
 
 TO 
 
 FREDERICK E. JONES, ESQ. 
 
 PRESENT STATE 
 
 IRISH STAGE. 
 
 FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 Vererer ne immodicam banc epistofam putares, nisi esset 
 generis ejus, ut saepe incipere, saepe desinere videatur: nam 
 singulis criminibus, singulis velut causae continentur. 
 
 PUN. EPIST. AD MACRIN. 
 
 Facendo professione di Candida verita parlero senz' amore e 
 senz' odio di ciascheduno. davanz. stor. rom. 
 
 DUBLIN: 
 
 VR1NTED BY GRAISEERRY AND CAMPBELL, 
 NO. 10, BACK-LANE, 
 
 And sold by all the Booksellers, 
 
 1806.
 
 TH 
 
 C8Tf 
 1806 
 
 JL SHOULD be almost ashamed to 
 dedicate the following trifle to any 
 one ; but if the subject and execution 
 were of more importance, and greater 
 excellence, I should not hesitate to in- 
 scribe it to HIM, in whose family, 
 
 even the titles of his nobility have 
 been less hereditary, than the learn- 
 ing and the taste of the scholar and 
 the gentleman, to LORD IJARD- 
 WICKE.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 FIRST EDITION. 
 
 JANUARY, 1804. 
 
 A HE following letters are the hasty* effusions of 
 my holy-day leisure, and originally aspired to no 
 higher rank in the literary world, than a place in 
 the public papers; but, after some trials, I found, 
 that the Dublin Editors and Mr. Jones had sworn 
 an inviolable friendship; and, that no essay, in 
 which his name was mentioned, would be inserted 
 " sans son aveu." 
 
 I really have no very exalted opinion of the 
 merit of my verses; I know them " tenui esse ora- 
 tione et scriptura levi," yet I am vain enough to 
 hope, that they may be worth a few shillings, 
 
 (were 
 
 * The verse was written within as many days- as there are 
 letters : this is no excuse for their incorrectness, but the kind 
 of publication, for which they were intended, is. Besides, my 
 avocations do not allow me leisure for revision ; he, therefore, 
 who cannot forgive harsh metre, and rambling meaning, had 
 better read no further if he does, let him not then blame me ;. 
 he has had fair warning.
 
 (were it only to laugh at,) and therefore I present 
 them to those, who have shillings to throw away, 
 in the only shape in which it is, in Ireland, pos- 
 sible to publish them. 
 
 To my readers I can only promise, that, though 
 they may not be much amused by my rhymes, 
 they shall, at least, be exercised in some of the 
 moral virtues; for, besides the generosity of giving 
 the poor bookseller two or three shillings, for what 
 is, perhaps, not worth a farthing, they will also have 
 to applaud themselves for much patience and long 
 suffering; and, as a specimen, I beg leave to de- 
 tain them, while I give some account of the occa- 
 sion and object of a work, which they, perhaps, 
 have already resolved never to read. 
 
 The management of a private theatre, the temple 
 of the folly, or, as some have said, of the vice of a 
 few individuals, who had more money than wit,* 
 and more leisure than either, was the first dramatic 
 exercitation of our present Patentee, and it is said 
 that he acquitted himself most meritoriously in this 
 important office ; so resplendent, at least, were his 
 ministerial talents, in the eyes of the judicious sub- 
 scribers to this puppet-show, that they were easily 
 led to believe that no other person was half so well 
 qualified to be the arbiter elegentiarum of the king- 
 dom. 
 
 They 
 
 * Some of them, to do tbem justice, were less deficient ia 
 wit than in sense-.
 
 Vll 
 
 They therefore zealously laboured to procure for 
 Mr. Jones, the reversion of the Patent, which Daly 
 then held, or, at least, a licence to open a second 
 Theatre in Dublin. The Lord Lieutenant was soon 
 subdued into something like a promise, and Daly, 
 to save himself from the threatening storm, was 
 obliged to make terms with, and abdicate his throne 
 in favour of, the conquering Jones. 
 
 This, it must be confessed, was, to the Public, a 
 matter of much satisfaction. Daly had long since, 
 either by his negligence or incapacity, dissatisfied 
 the Citizens of Dublin, and the elegant and liberal 
 taste of the new Proprietor was every where ex- 
 tolled, by some who knew him, and by many more 
 who did not; and thus, with a pretty general ap- 
 probation, he obtained a despotic monopoly of the 
 Theatres Royal of Cork, Limerick and Dublin. 
 
 "What the annual profits of this monopoly may 
 be, it is impossible for me to assert ; but I have 
 heard them estimated, by well-informed persons, at 
 a sum* greater than the salary of two of the judges 
 of the land!!! 
 
 I am always pleased at the honest good fortune 
 of any man, and therefore I rejoice at Mr. Jones's 
 most extraordinary success; but then, I should 
 
 hope, 
 
 * More than ..5000 per annum and I have reason to 
 think that I have considerably, under' rated Mr. Jones's thea- 
 trical income.
 
 Vlli 
 
 hope, it were not unreasonable to expect, that the 
 single company, to which the whole dramatic ex- 
 pence of a generous people is tributary, should, in 
 return for such exclusive patronage, display all the 
 variety and excellence of which such an establish- 
 ment is capable. 
 
 Whether it is so conducted, what has been 
 done towards encouraging humble merit, and se- 
 curing the permanent assistance of acknowledged 
 abilities, and, generally, the present state of the 
 theatrical amusements of the Capital, are the prin- 
 cipal objects of the following enquiry. 
 
 If we were to submit our judgment to that of the 
 public papers, the cause would soon be decided : 
 Those impartial Chronicles will assure us, that, so 
 far from deserving censure, the conduct of the 
 Theatre, the selection of Performances, and the 
 choice and abilities of the Actors,* are all intitled 
 to the most implicit and unqualified approbation. 
 
 But, whatever respect we may have for the opi- 
 nions of some of the very ingenious persons who 
 act as the Editors of newspapers, we are not bound 
 to give the slightest credence to those dramatic 
 
 criticisms, 
 
 * The Lord Polonius was a very niggard of commenda- 
 tion, au }ix of these journals. " The best actors in the world, 
 either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, 
 historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical, histo- 
 rical-pastoral, scene undividable, or poem unlimited." 
 Hamlet.
 
 criticisms, which every journalist so plentifully ad- 
 mits into his columns ; and for the truth of which 
 venal* advertisements, and paid-for puffs, f he is, 
 in fact, no more responsible, than for the cheap- 
 ness and excellence of each article in Twigg's re- 
 pository, or Percy's auction- rooms. 
 
 We cannot justly blame them for inserting what- 
 ever they are paid to insert 'tis their trade, and 
 a 3 even 
 
 * Fals'affe was desirous of knowing " where a commodity 
 of good names were to be bought;" poor Sir John ! did he live 
 in our time, he might easily buy courage, honour and genero-. 
 sity, temperance, soberness and chastity, for less than a gallon 
 of sack. So generally indeed are " omnia venalia," that I am 
 not surprised that Mr. Jones's sagacious defenders have bcen- 
 pleased to assert, that I am an hired scribbler. If this were, 
 true, should h not at least have earned my salary better than 
 they ? I confess, however, that if I cared for such reputation 
 as the world now a days bestows, I should follow the example 
 of Stesichorus, and never write of a living creature ; wtf u\a.%av_ 
 fH&i cZy, says. Phalaris to him, ypa^si'y lie raj nara. estrjTOK 
 avSpvimc I'm pr, )oti) try tij kviuv s7wt rijv itbmaiv. 
 
 f WiU it be credited, that our Irish pufls. (shameless as 
 they were) rather stimulated than allayed the " sacra fames" 
 with which our actors, &e. are inftcted ; and that a jwrfer by; 
 profession has been imported from England, for their gratifica- 
 tion. Of this person's talents I know nothing, but by his 
 works in the Dublin papers: and of them i: is but just to say, 
 that, although they labour under the disadvantage of being 
 composed of words itl-c/iosen, ill-spelled, and vn grammatically- 
 arranged, they do, nevertheless, display a lavish audacity of 
 flattery and falsehood, which would have cloyed the stomach* 
 of Erisichthou hims 'If; bat as for the gentlemen of the theatre,. 
 
 Liattenuata manebit 
 
 Nunc quoq; 'lira fames,, i.nplacataeq; vigebit 
 Flamma gulte. Mltam. viii*
 
 even their duty: as well might we complain of 
 their representing a horse as sound, or a post-chaise 
 as good as new, when, in truth, the steed is foun- 
 dered, and the carriage in pieces. God forbid that 
 I should expect from newspapers, nothing but 
 plain sense and honest truth I am not so unrea- 
 sonable. 
 
 F.crive done qui voudra, chacun a ce metier, 
 Peut perdre impunement de l'encre et du papier. 
 
 But, whilst we read these effusions, let us always 
 recollect, that it is the actor that gravely descants 
 on his own spirited performance, or the fiddler* 
 
 that 
 
 * A whimsical instance of this " v4 X**XS*" tn ' s m nsical 
 biasx, occurs to mc, and I shall give it as a specimen: in one 
 of the later papers, (I believe, the Freeman's Journal,) an ad- 
 mirable piece of theatrical criticism, replete with Horatian 
 judgment, and Addisonian graces, concluded its account of the 
 musical performance with this elegant idea, " and though 
 there are txeo Cookes in the orchestra, we cannot say that they 
 spoil the broth!!!" This is very htchenstuff! 
 
 The Freeman's Journal is, as it would seem, angry, but not 
 abashed, at the gentle correction I inflicted; the following 
 iudgm' pt, concerning this poem and its supposed Author, :3 
 another fair specimen of its Horatian judgments, and Addiso- 
 nian graces: 
 
 " A shabby Barrister, wlio never could acquire as much by 
 Itftd ability as would powder h's wig, has resorted to the expe- 
 dient of " raising the wind," by a familiar epistle, assassinating 
 male and female reputation. The infamous production hus had 
 some sale, as will ever what is replete with sunrUily, obicenity, 
 and falsehood; but this high flying pedant, of empty bag 
 fame in his profession, will shortly find, that peeping TOM will 
 t* dragged forth to public view, in a very fumiliur manuer." 
 
 So.
 
 XI 
 
 that modestly extols the brilliancy of his own taste, 
 and the skill of his own execution ! ! ! 
 
 Thus much I think it necessary to say, in my 
 own defence, for rejecting, as I altogether do, the 
 evidence of the newspapers, on the subject undes 
 consideration. 
 
 Let me now say a few words on the style and - 
 matter of these Epistles: 
 
 Were that an easy style which is easily written,* 
 I. should have no paternal fears for the success of 
 
 this 
 
 So, Reader, YOU are convicted of having purchased and pe- 
 rused this infamous catch- penny, because you take pleasure in 
 scurrility, obscenity, and falsehood. Upon my word, Sir or 
 Madam, either you are a very Kicked person, or the Freeman's 
 Journal is grossly erroneous. ' L'Alternatif (as Gil Bias says) 
 est cunvaincant.' 
 
 * " It is a curious illustration," says the Editor of Mr. Lit- 
 tle's poems, " of the labour which simplicity requires, that 
 the Ramblers, elaborate as they appear, were written with 
 fluency, and seldom required revision ; while the simple lan- 
 guage of Rousseau, which seems to come flowing from the 
 heart, was the slow produe'.ijn of painful labour, pausing on 
 every word, and balancing every sentence." The ver>-e of 
 Mr. Little himself, easy and light as it seems, is said to have 
 been wrought with very much of the " limae labor et mora." 
 I could wish his sentiments were but half as correct as his ver- 
 sification; but the only Venus he worships is she, whom the 
 schol ; ast on Aristophanes calls rsmriiXXjc ; and, what is worse, 
 he makes all the young p^-ople in the empire worship her too. 
 1 recommend to Mr. Little'* consideration, (for I am told he is 
 
 tin
 
 XII 
 
 this little Book. We, subalterns of poetry, should 
 soon become the field officers, and no one, who 
 had the insolence to take any pains with his ap- 
 pearance, would be permitted to show himself on 
 the parade of a bookseller's counter ; but, unhap- 
 pily, this regulation has not yet taken place, and 
 an ill-judging world still throws in our teeth, 
 
 You write with ease, to show your breeding, 
 But easy writing 's clamn'd hard reading. 
 
 On this topic, then, gentle Reader, I have only 
 to refer you to my title-page, in which you will 
 find my gracious permission to throw down my 
 book, whenever it shall tire you, and take it up 
 again, when you have nothing else to do. 
 
 And now of the matter; 
 
 No one, I believe, will say, that, professing to 
 treat of plays and play-houses, I should, or indeed 
 could have refrained from mentioning the players, 
 unless he be such a casuist as Mr. Shandy, who, 
 being bound by his marriage articles to keep a 
 coach, asserted, that he was not thereby obliged 
 
 to 
 
 still alive, and still an Author,) the precept of one of the best 
 poets the modern world has produced: 
 
 Un auteur vertueux dans ses vers innocens 
 Ne corrom.pt point le cceur, en diatouillnnt les sens: 
 Son feu n'alluine point de criminellu fame. 
 Aimez done la vertu, noxirrissez-en votre amej 
 En vain i' esprit est p'.ein d'un noble vlgueur, 
 L* vers se sent toujours des bassesses du cceur.
 
 Xlll 
 
 to provide horses to draw it what horses are to a 
 coach, actors are, I humbly conceive, to a theatre ; 
 and this, I imagine, will be a sufficient apology for 
 the freedom I take, in considering their merits and 
 imperfections. I hope I shall not be found a very 
 ill-natured censor I have studiously avoided all 
 severe allusions to private character, and have 
 rather inclined to the * equity of mercy, than to the 
 rigour of satire ; but 
 
 Si quis est, qui dictum in se inclementius 
 Existimat esse, sic existimet 
 Responsum non ita dictum 
 
 that it has not been said with an intention to of- 
 fend, but, because truth " lay in my way, and I 
 found it." 
 
 Every other person that I have alluded to, is, 
 also, publici juris, either from his station or charac- 
 ter, and will be so good as to remember, that a li- 
 berty to praise or censure, is a privilege, which an 
 inhabitant of a free country always exacts from 
 notoriety. 
 
 One word more to the Patentee, and I have 
 done: 
 
 Let me assure him, that so far from having 
 any hostile intentions towards him, I think 
 him, a pleasant companion, and an honourable 
 
 gentleman, 
 
 * Quando pudiere, y deviere tener lugar la cquidud, no 
 cargues todo il rigor de la satyra al delinquente. Qervant.
 
 X1Y 
 
 *gentleman, and I dare say he will easily perceive, 
 that my advice and criticism are not those of an 
 enemy. His management of the Theatre has been, 
 in many instances, extremely injudicious: the total 
 want of great, the small number of respectable, and 
 the dismal herd of indifferent actors, are evident 
 and inexcusable the choice of plays is frequently 
 of an indiscrimination, only to be equalled by that 
 of the cast of the characters, and a total inattention 
 to the production of Irish abilities, either active or 
 graphic, is a source of concern to every friend of 
 the drama, of literature, and of Ireland. 
 
 But 
 
 * Whilst the second Edition was preparing for the press, 
 Mr. Jones sent for my Printer, who attended him without 
 consulting me. ' Sir,' said the Manager, ' you may puhlish 
 Critiques on the Theatre every day, but I would advise yon to 
 take care, for if we can lay hold of any thing, we t hall not easily 
 relinquish it; as for the Author, he is now in England, but 
 when becomes back we will take that notice of him he justly 
 merits.' This was, in part at least, true ; not only Mr. Jones, 
 but the whole kingdom, have taken notice of me, and more, I 
 am ready to own, than 1 justly merit, " to it van xaXov t? y.i 
 x*lapf ," most undeservedly indeed. Of Mr. Jones's notice, I 
 shall, at all times, be proud and happy to be the object; and 
 shall, to the best of my abilities, endeavour t convince him of 
 my cordial gratitude. 
 
 Qui me commorit, melius non tangere c!amo, 
 Flebit, et insignis tota cantabitur urbe. 
 
 Or as Pope admirably translates it. 
 
 Whoe'er offends, at some unlucky time, 
 Slides into verse and hitches in a rhyme, 
 Sacred to ridicule his whole life long, 
 And the sad burden of some merry song.
 
 xv 
 
 But against these errors and omissions, much 
 propriety* and decencyf of regulation, much 
 splendor of decoration,J much punctuality with 
 those in his employment, and much profession 
 of readiness to adopt good advice, are to be ba- 
 lanced 
 
 * Hear the opinion of " les blesses" on this and similar 
 passages : 
 
 " The furious invective that pervades the Familiar Epistles 
 is of the most acrid quality ; abuse is substituted for argument, 
 and indeed for every thing, nor is there throughout this patch- 
 work and piebald production, any ingredient of good nature to 
 qualify, soften, justify or correct its supercilious and wanton 
 attacks." Freeman's Journal, 14*A .FeA. 1804. 
 
 The language of this sentence is of an extraordinary selection 
 and texture, " sed ubi plura nitent non ego paucis offendar 
 macules." 
 
 f Much however remains to be done, though indeed it is dif- 
 ficult to say how it is to be accomplished, or by what means 
 the Theatre can be kept sacred from the libertinism and 
 drunkenness, which now so often invade it, under the very 
 eyes of our wives and daughters. 
 
 Spectant haec nuptae, juxta recnbante marito 
 
 Quod pudeat narrasse aliquem prsesentibus ipsis. Juv. 
 
 The Grecian theatres, says Lactantius (I. 6.) were dedicated to 
 Bacchus and Venus; if some exertion is not made by the well 
 disposed part of the community, ours will soon become so too, 
 and not metaphorically. I know that Mr. Jones, on this sub- 
 ject, thinks as I do, and I hope he will devise some means of 
 preventing the growth of so tremendous an evil. 
 
 } " Aurea qua? pendent ornato signa theatro," but would I 
 rather, were I obliged to make an election, have good actors 
 and indifferent scenery, than fine scenery and miserable strol- 
 lers, " Tom Errands dressed in Clincher's clothes."
 
 XVI 
 
 lanced wishing, therefore, that henceforward 
 there may be larger opportunities for commenda- 
 tion, and less necessity for censure; and, above 
 all, exhorting him to be thankful for the lenity and 
 good-humour with which I have hitherto borne 
 (what nobody else can bear) his vituperation of 
 me and his praises of himself and his theatres, 
 I shall make my parting compliment to him in the 
 words of a monarch of Antiquity,* oi/^y ape a p' 
 
 * I earnestly bog Mr. Jones's attention to the latter part of 
 this sentence I hope I need not translate rt for his use, 
 though I am informed it has puzzled a Panan. In one of the 
 late Dublin Journals, there appeared an entertaining, and 
 not ill-written account of the dismay, and confusion into which 
 a country gentleman, his two daughters, and the Rector of 
 the Parish, were thrown by my " ostentatious parade of 
 study" and, "fatebor enim," the topic was handled humour- 
 ously enough, The author, whoever he be, is a fellow of 
 some fun, but he must give me leave to suspect, that he i. 
 not quite so ignorant and illiterate as he would have us be- 
 lieve. 
 
 On the subject of quotations, my opinions are, however, 
 unchanged and unchangeable. 
 
 Quia Graiorum sunt antiquissima quaeq ; 
 Scripia vel optima Romani pensantur eadem 
 Scriptores trutina. 
 
 The delight which I have all my life received from the lec- 
 ture of the Glassies, as they are called, may Lave had too 
 powerful an effect on my gratitude, and may have led me into 
 some of the errors of pedantry. I am sorry for it, but really 
 I cannot consent to give up those venerable and -valuable 
 acquaintances, whose company has hitherto been my greatest 
 solace, and satisfaction, merely because there happen to be 
 men in the world who never went to school, and women and 
 Parsons who can't read Greek. Let me add, in the admirable 
 
 words
 
 XV11 
 
 /3aXo/utow <ri wSs7v wit fjxS, vXhu yap lvft<TKU> aoi ra 
 y0 vtiitywypiva, ruv xupovuv. aio x raro twv 
 {iiKrmui tv ytvKrQu, to /xi v crpo^avayxcwra* jut, tw p^aXt- 
 vwrtfu rrij ^v^j xara o~3 p^pwrao-Ga* Trafls*. 
 
 <J>aX. B*K< NXai$a. 
 
 words of James I. at seeing the Bodleian Library, " Si unquam 
 mihi in fatis sit, nt captivus ducar, si mihi darctur optio, hoc 
 cuperem carcere concludi, his catenis illigari, cum hisce cap- 
 tivis concatenatis astatem agere." Burt. A. M.
 
 ADDITIONAL PREFACE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 MARCH, 1804. 
 
 Nv $' ATT' t%tfiu o>? / ^oxAi Eiva* ctfircc. 
 
 THE Printer informs me, that he is about to 
 prepare a New Edition of the Familiar Epistles 
 for the Press, and I eagerly seize the opportunity 
 of returning my thanks to the great majority of 
 the Public for its generous applause, and to a very 
 small minority for its no less gratifying and com- 
 plimentary disapprobation. 
 
 Though my vanity is not so great, as to induce 
 me to enrich this Edition with the kind and angry 
 *" Testimonia obscurorum virorum," which I have 
 had the happiness to see and hear, yet I must take 
 leave to say, that if ignorance and ill manners had 
 not been so obliging as to revile my little work, I 
 should have considered its reputation as precarious, 
 and its triumph as incomplete. 
 
 , ... Me manus omnis habet 
 Ecce rubet quidam, pallet, stupet, oscitat, odit. 
 Hoc volo nunc nobis nostra sarmina placent. 
 
 * They were, however, annexed to the 4th Edition, and are 
 k> this, in order to preserre them from utter oblivion. 
 
 This
 
 This self satisfaction was the only reward of 
 which I was ambitious, and I obtained it. But 
 what apologies can I make to those hapless gentle- 
 men who have laboured under my suppositious 
 fame ? Poor creatures ! I should have been inclined 
 to lament their distresses, had not their affected 
 modesty made them so strangely ridiculous. Their 
 solemn asseverations of innocence, do indeed, re- 
 mind me of a story told by Lord Orford of Lord 
 William Paulet: A political pamphlet having ex- 
 cited a good deal of notice, some wag chose to 
 father it on Lord William, who was by no means 
 remarkable for his literary attainments; this report 
 induced a gentleman who thought himself ag- 
 grieved by the publication, to request that his 
 Lordship would explain Lord William willingly 
 professed ignorance and innocence, and began to 
 write a denial of his authorship in this manner: 
 " This is to scratify that the buk caled the snak" i 
 '/ Oh," interrupted the offended person, " your 
 Lordship need not add another word ; I am as per- 
 fectly satisfied as if you had made* affidavit that 
 you were not the author." 
 
 March 6, 1804. 
 
 FEBRUARY, 
 
 * We have heard, and we do believe, that a Barrister, to 
 whom (in jest we suppose) these letters were attributed, did 
 solemnly swear before a master in Chancery, and as solemnly 
 recite in the green-room before the players, an affidavit, 
 " scratifying that the buk caled" the Familiar Epistles Was . not 
 written by him ! ! ! 
 
 N. B. The gentleman's testimony remains uuimpcached ! 
 " Semperq ; manebit !''
 
 FEBRUARY, 1805. 
 DISJECTA MEMBRA POET^l. 
 
 To enable the world at last to ascertain who I am, I have 
 with great diligence extracted from several deceased publi- 
 cations, the following sketches of my portrait, which when 
 reconciled together, will, I dare swear, make a most striking 
 likeness. 
 
 Tea Table Conversation. He is ridiculously low, 
 
 p. 9. 
 Thespiad. He is ridiculously tall, p. 30. 
 
 Tea Table Conversation. He is not young, p. 34. 
 Reflections. He is very young, p. 13. 
 
 Freeman's Journal. He is an infamous scribbler, 
 
 passim. 
 Reflections. He is a well educated gentleman, 
 
 p. 15. 
 
 Tliespiad. He has erudition, p. 3. 
 Answer to the Familiar Epistles. He has no erudi- 
 tion, p. 7. 
 
 Thespiad. His verses are execrable, p. 3. 
 Tea Table Conversation. His verses are good, p. 
 37. 
 
 Aiuwer to the Familiar Epistles. He is a skulking 
 
 assassin, p. 11. 
 Reflections. He is a great man, p. 6 1 . 
 
 Tea
 
 XXI 1 
 
 Tea Table Conversation. He is a monkey, p. 26, 
 and a manx poney, p. 33, and a beau, p. 27, 
 and a lawyer, p. 30, and a tavern waiter, p. 27, 
 and a dancing master, p. 9, and a trout stream, 
 p. 32. 
 
 Thespiad. He is a dragon, p. 11, and a badger, 
 p. 32, and a goose, p. 30, and a snake, p. 30, 
 and a writer of plays, p. 4. and a country 
 squire, p. 1, and Sancho Panza, p. 22, and 
 Judas Iscariot, p. 35. 
 
 Theatrical Tears. His name is Ball, p. 3. 
 
 Tea Table Conversation. His name is Croker, 
 
 passim. 
 Freeman's Journal. His name is *Thomas, passim. 
 
 Chorus. His name is A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, 
 K, >L, M, N, and so on al fine. 
 For my own part, I join in the chorus, though I 
 think all the rest very agreeable and very true. 
 
 * Of two of those Gentlemen I liave not the least personal 
 knowledge, and of the third I will venture to say, (without 
 meaning any disparagement to his abilities), that hotc he came 
 to be suspected should rather be enquired of bis friends than of 
 his enemies. 
 
 TO
 
 TO 
 
 FREDERICK E. JONES, ESQ. 
 
 PATENTEE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 THEATRE-ROYAL. 
 >^ 
 
 FIRST EPrSTLF. 
 
 Tu, quid ego et populus mecum desideret, audi. 
 
 HOB..A. ,F. 
 
 J ONES,* who direct with equal skill, 
 The bill of fare, and play-house bill, 
 Whose taste all other palates sways 
 Either in dishes, or in plays, 
 And rightly judges where there should 
 
 Come entremets or interlude; 
 
 Whose genius never at a loss is, 
 Either for farces, or for sauces, 
 
 And 
 
 * Jones. To such of my readers as have tlie misfortune 
 not to belong to Daly's, or be in habits of eating with the bons 
 vivants of Dublin, it may be necessary to say, that Mr. Jones 
 understands the regulation of a table at least as well as that of 
 a Theatre; which is not surprising, when we consider how 
 much more the former has employed his thoughts and his time.
 
 24 
 
 And regulates with happiest care 
 
 An epilogue or a dessert. 
 
 You, who with equal judgment sit 
 The arbiter of wine and wit, 
 By palate and by patent placed 
 Upon the double throne of taste ; 
 If you, dear Manager, can spare a 
 Moment from Turbot and Madeira, 
 You'll find, perhaps, that my Epistle, 
 Tho' not so sweet to mouth or whistle, 
 And flat, in edible respect, 
 Is savoury to the intellect.* 
 
 For I would seek the wond'rous cause, 
 That abrogates our ancient laws, 
 And like the Gallic revolution, 
 
 Subverts old Crow-street's constitution ; 
 
 Thus Shakespeare, Monarch of the realm 
 Of plays, his subjects overwhelm, 
 And mad with rebel fury grown, 
 Insult, and sentence, and dethrone ; 
 Thus Fletcher, Johnson, Otway, Rowe, 
 The nobles of the stage, are low, 
 
 Are 
 
 * Mr. Jones complains, that the foregoing lines contain a 
 cruel attack on his private character ; for my part, I cannot 
 perceive any cruelty in saying of a man, that he likes good 
 things; I like good things myself " If sack and sugar be a 
 crime, heaven help the wicked j" but I can perceive, that 
 these verses seem to contain a kind of approbation of Mr. Jones's 
 taste and talents as a manager, which I own to be unmerited 
 and unjustifiable, and for which I humbly beg pardon of him, and 
 of the world perhaps tven this may not satisfy Mr. Jones, 
 but there is no pleasing some people.
 
 25 
 
 Or else dispersed by barbarous arts, 
 Are * emigres in foreign parts ; 
 Whilst in their places rise and sit 
 The very tiers-etat of wit ; 
 And high o'er all, in tragic rage, 
 fKotzebue, chief consul of the stage ; 
 Of lineage foreign and obscure, 
 Of manners harsh, of thought impure ; 
 Bold, brutal, bloody, and (in few) 
 Just like his brother of St. Cloud. 
 
 In managers, the stage and state 
 Have to lament as hard a fate ; 
 'Tis no more Barry, or Choiseul, 
 Fleuri, or Sheridan, that rule, 
 But Talleyrand and Jones appear, 
 And Fouche there, and F-ll-m % here. 
 
 b Nor 
 
 * Out* old English authors, however despised at home, are 
 in high request abroad, and afford, indeed, a very ample fund 
 to the French and German plagiaries. 
 
 f Without having any great respect for Kotzebue's moral 
 character, it is but justice to declare, that it is only in his dra- 
 matic capacity that I compare bim with the worst man of this, 
 or perhaps of any age. 
 
 t J s > F-ll-m. Far be it from me to put those respec- 
 table gentlemen in the same rank with the apostate Talleyrand, 
 or the Scptembriser Fouche, vn any other than a metaphorical 
 sense; thy are the ministers of a revolutionized stave; as such 
 I dislike and oppose their administration, but, unlike other op- 
 positionists, may be brought over by a change of measures 
 without a change of men. If Mr. Windham reads this note 
 he will pronounce me an egregious Llrxkhend. (1805.;
 
 26 
 
 Nor groans beneath its tyrants less 
 In Erin than in France, the Press ; 
 Subdued alike in either land, 
 
 By iron rod, or golden wand; 
 
 As in ^romance, some magic sword 
 (Gage of their fate) the sorcerers hoard, 
 Deep in their cavern's mystic bound, 
 While prowling monsters guard it round ;- 
 
 So lies the Press, (whose powerful charm 
 
 Can nerve the weak, the naked arm, 
 Emancipate the captive mind, 
 And from its daemons free mankind) 
 Dungeon'd in slavery's sightless caves, 
 And watched by dunces and by knaves. 
 
 Yet we can rail in goodly strains, 
 At France's folly, France's chains; 
 Whilst our own press, that points the gibe, 
 At Bonaparte and all his tribe, 
 The tyranny, in silence bears, 
 Of players, and of worse than players. 
 
 Oh for a muse of fire to light, 
 The gloom of Erin's mental night; 
 And, from the opening clouds, to shed 
 The rays of freedom round her head; 
 'Twere vainly then, that, in defence 
 Of want of judgment and of sense, 
 Our manager should gravely vow, 
 Our stage " tvas ne'er so grand as now."f 
 
 * Vide Southey's Thalaba. 
 
 f " For who than Jones more hospitably lives, 
 " Or such a generous social banquet gives ? 
 
 In 
 
 And
 
 27 
 
 In ward-robe, that it much excels 
 Both Drury Lane and Sadler's Wells; 
 In orchestra superior far is 
 To Naples, and in scenes to Paris ; 
 That vvond'rous actors tread his boards, 
 The best that all the world affords, 
 And (since we force him to aver it) 
 The * whole is better than we merit. 
 " He owns," he adds, " that ancient plays 
 " Are seldom acted now-a-days. 
 " And modern critics rather choose 
 " An. infant than a grantlam muse ; 
 
 b 2 " That 
 
 " And sure his theatre, we must allow, 
 
 " Was ne'er so managed, or st\ grand as vow." 
 
 Thespiad, p. 5. ' 
 
 Such is the reasoning of the author of the Thcspiad: I fear, 
 however, that it is what Mr. Partridge would have called a non 
 sequitur. I have somewhere met the following lines : 
 
 Whenever folks, with gibing low, 
 Exclaim, " don't make yourself a Joe," 
 'Tis understood, by general rule, 
 To mean, " don't make yourself a/oo/." 
 
 In this sense then, and in this sense only, I pronounce the 
 writer of the Thespiad to be a most egregious JOE he arcuc s, 
 in one of his notes, that I am a xvit, because I am half tinned: 
 might I not, with equal justice, deduce from his gross fully, 
 that he is fat and full fed? but, to say the truth, I do not care 
 
 what he is 1 abandon him to the criticisms of the Irish 
 
 Magazines dpjts, <rtt fxltr&it;, tSto xai /ocovcv, In in Xi'xj* <riu.a- 
 Tf i>Jpt? xajay c-iay, fAniiv iraBacav. 
 
 * So says Mr. Jones, and he says most truly. Nothing 
 can be too bad for those who cuukl at all bear what we have 
 tamely borne.
 
 28 
 
 " That 'tis his business to provide 
 " For people's tastes, and not to guide ; 
 " And with the nice and squeamish town, 
 " That novelties alone go down." 
 
 But can we not ourselves produce 
 These novelties for Irish use, 
 That we to foreign hands must roam, 
 For goods we us'd to make at homer 
 Where is the soul of drama fled? 
 Is genius paralyz'd or dead? 
 That artless Southerne's* parent shore 
 Produces tragic bards no mere. 
 Shall Farquhar's, Congreve's, native isle 
 No more with wit peculiar smile? 
 And can no kindred soul, from death, 
 Catch f Sheridan's expiring breath, 
 And give the Stage, for one life more, 
 A lease of humour's choicest store ? 
 
 Does 
 
 * " Eivini ingegni, i quali, coi lor bcllissimi pensieri e nobi- 
 lissitni opere la patria ed eta loro aclornavano. Tolom. Oraz. 
 
 And shall we never see their like again ? 
 
 j- Mr. Sheridan, we are told, is employed in dramatising 
 the story of " The Forty Thieves," it is not impossible, his 
 last play of Pizarro was precisely in the taste of the Tragedy 
 ridiculed in the Critic for " its magnificence, its battle, its 
 none, and its procession;" why may not his next performance 
 be a Comedy I f that useful class, so much praised by Mr. Sneer, 
 " which dramatizes the penal laws, and renders the stage a 
 court of ease to the Old Hailey." Alas! and was Mr. Sheri- 
 dan's 3'outli employed only in erecting Standards by which we 
 were to measure the caducity of his age ? and may we apply 
 
 Ovid's
 
 29 
 
 Does time, with niggard hand, inspire 
 
 Our later age with feebler lire? 
 
 Heaven ne'er inflicts, a mental blight 
 On all abilities outright ; 
 The rain and wind will ruin corn, 
 But what can mildew wit unborn, 
 And blast, like barley, wheat or here, 
 Genius " en ventre de sa mere?" 
 
 Causes, obscure to vulgar sight, 
 The poet and the player unite ; 
 Swayed by the magnet of the mind, 
 Their laws the same, their powers combin'd, 
 They draw, with mutual influence, 
 To folly, or direct to sense. 
 And hence, 'tis thought, that the defect 
 Springs from the Manager's neglect; 
 Tho' with encomia loud and vain. 
 He vaunts the ill-assorted train 
 Whom half-price salaries engage, 
 
 To lumber and disgrace our stage. 
 
 " For who, of common sense," (we say,) 
 " Would write what there are none to play-, 
 " Or venture to entrust his pieces 
 " To such a company as this is, 
 
 " Who 
 
 Ovid's prediction of the melancholy decay of the person to the 
 more lamentable decay of a beautiful mind. 
 
 Decens longis vitiabitur annis : 
 Rugaq; in antiqua mente senilis erit: 
 Injicietq; manum ingenio damnosa senectus. (1805.) 
 
 Ovid.- Trist. III. 7.
 
 30 
 
 " Who seem with equal skill to handle 
 " Lock and Key, and School for Scandal. 
 " Holman* may carry to our neighbours 
 " Of Drury Lane, his Irish labours, 
 
 And 
 
 * Holman is now in London, soliciting the J acceptation of 
 a piece, written during his residence in Ireland. (1803.) 
 
 The play, it appears, has been damned ; but this does not 
 afii'Ct my argument : had it been brought out here, it would 
 have been doubly damned, once for its own sake, and again for 
 that of the players. (1804.) 
 
 Mr. Holman laden with all the honours and profits of his 
 damned play has kindly resumed his situation in our theatre, 
 "a robustious perrivug-pated fellow that tears a passion to 
 rags," when Mr. Jones had the good fortune to get loose frum 
 him, I wonder that he had not the wisdom to remain so: but 
 Mr. Holman, forsooth, writes him a letter, " that many per- 
 sons in Dublin are anxious to see him, (Mr. Holman,) and that, 
 as he can't (good soul!) think of disappointing his (Mr. Hol- 
 man's) friends, if Mr. Jones does not engage him, (Mr. Hol- 
 man,) he (Mr. Holman) must of necessity read plays, during 
 the winter, at the Rotunda." Proh inauditura ! the Theatre 
 Royal was afraid to contend with such a rival, and Mr. Hol- 
 man was engaged, on the strength of this letter, at a salary 
 greater than the aggregate salaries of Messrs. Talbot, Richard 
 Jones, and Williams, Miss Walstein, and Mrs. Hitchcock. It 
 must be confessed, that this single epistle of Mr. Holman's has 
 had more effect than all mine. After this, can we be at a loss 
 for an answer to Ovid's question, " Quid epistola lecta noce- 
 bit?" (1805.) 
 
 X Acceptation Reception, whether good or bad!.' John- 
 son's Diet. voc. Acceptation.
 
 31 
 
 " And Moore,* with Coleman's aid evince 
 " His genius in the Gipsy Prince; 
 " But bards, in general, would be undone, 
 " By the mere journey up to London. 
 " And thus, in Irish durance pent, 
 " The brightest mind must be content 
 " To see our f Thespian murderers maul 
 " His scenes, or else not write at all." 
 It follows hence, that 'tis by rumour 
 Alone, we know of Irish humour, 
 
 And 
 
 * Moore, Tommy Moore. In Ireland we used to shew our 
 admiration of his poetic talents, by asking him to supper; in 
 England they reward him with a commercial, and, in some 
 degree, legal office : this shows the difference of the national 
 taste; with us, abilities are dissipated in conviviality; and, 
 with them, fettered by the ties of interest and business. Be- 
 tween us, I fancy, poor Tom is not likely to be much improved, 
 or even enriched. And I am truly sorry for it ; for, with about 
 as many faults as other people have, he possesses twice as 
 much genius and agreeability as any body else. I cannot say 
 much for his morality. 
 
 f In such hands, if any person were mad enough to write 
 for the Irish stage, I fancy we might say with the French. 
 Vaudeville : 
 
 Tandis que I'un tombe sur l'or, 
 
 L'autre tombe dans la misere; 
 Rarement on tombe d'accord, 
 
 Beaucoup tombent dans la riviere. 
 On voit quelquefois un amant 
 
 Tomber aux genoux de aes belles ; . 
 Mais ce qui tombe tres souvent, 
 
 Ce sont nos pieces nouvelles.
 
 32 
 
 And our dramatic talent all is 
 
 Comprized in Atkinson* and L .f 
 
 Poor Atkinson, kind hearted creature, 
 Soul of good humour and good nature, 
 Whose inoffensive gabble runs 
 Eternal, with eternal puns, 
 But fit to write a play, no more 
 Than Jacob Poole, j or Lord Glandore.| 
 
 * Joseph Atkinson, Esq. M. P.. I. A. &c. &c. author of 
 " Love in a Blaze," an operatical drama; a strange collection 
 of stupid, and sometimes indecent vulgarisms, upon which Sir 
 John Stevenson threw away some very good music, which it 
 had cost him much trouble to compile. 
 
 " A cette merveille-la, 
 
 " Plus d'un spectateur bailla." 
 
 Some even went farther, and were rude enough to hiss ; nor 
 had poor Atkinson the satisfaction of adding to the " populus 
 me sibilat," the " nummus contemplor in area" his piece 
 was damned, and most unprofitably damned, though he him- 
 self attended the representation, and encouraged it with ex- 
 traordinary efforts of personal applause. 
 
 j- L , the author of ** Trial's All," a comedy, pro- 
 duced not long since at Crow- street. If I remember rightly, 
 the plot was, that a young man, accused of a conspiracy, is 
 brought to trial and acquitted; ukat could have turned Mr. 
 /. *s cogitations to such Green-street subjects f 
 
 + Jacob Poole, our late Lord Mayor, a citizen of preto-. 
 rian activity and critical acumen. 
 
 || Lord Glandore. I am told that this noble Peer is a 
 scholar, and a man of parts ; shall I venture to own, I never 
 could discover in him any resemblance to either, He might 
 make a good Lord of the bed-chamber, but for any thing 
 else!!!
 
 33 
 
 indeed, I own is not 
 
 Unfit to carry on a plot,* 
 And, as we're ready to confess, 
 Preserves the unities to excess ; 
 But for the rest, the glowing mind, 
 Terse thought, and dialogue refined; 
 He'll do our country as much honour 
 As Nelson, Russel, or O'Connor. 
 Unhappy Dowling !f on your head, 
 The crimes of other men were shed, 
 
 b 3 And 
 
 * Can these meaa play-house plots and unities ?- Mr. 
 
 L , I am told, has consulted counsel, with a view of prose- 
 cuting my Printer for a libel. Is this then the stuff of which- 
 pairiots are made? Are those the men who profess friendship 
 to the liberty of the press f The very word Press conjures up odd 
 recollections, and they are Hot recollections. of consistency and , 
 candour. 
 
 f Dowling. This person, from being a brazier, metamor- 
 phosed himself into a very middling painter, and, finally, .be- 
 came an indifferent actor, under the title of Mr. Herbert. He 
 
 fathered L 's play, which, before representation, was ejc- 
 
 tolled as a miracle of genius, but, alas ! " Trial's All" the 
 piece was not so fortunate as its hero. I do not forget to Mr. 
 Dowling the play he chose for his benefit, in a time of sedition 
 and Jacobinism, when everv those, who, in general, were incre- 
 dulous of proverbs, began to fear, that ' Vis unita fortior' was 
 out too true. I hope Mr. Bowling's error was not intentional.; 
 or, if it was, that he has come to a sounder way of thinking; 
 
 Mr. Dowling is, I am informed, desirous, that I should tot 
 the public know that I was mistaken in calling him a brazier 
 for that in fact he was an ironmonger be it so he shall be any 
 thing he pleases but Terence.
 
 34- 
 
 And L , prudently dismayed, 
 
 *Mourn'd his lost offspring in the shade, 
 And from his secret bower discern'd 
 You, suffering hisses he had earn'd, 
 Whilst in your secret soul you thought 
 'Twere better hammer pan or pot, 
 Or e'en with hireling pencil trace 
 
 G n's f shape, or K x's f face, 
 
 Than hope to rise to wealth or fame, 
 By father'd play and borrow'd name. 
 
 Peace to such dramas and such wits 
 
 Be they, in deep oblivion's pits, 
 Inter'd, from hoot and hiss exempt, 
 Beneath the tombstone of contempt, 
 Each with this epitaph, " Here lies 
 ". A corpse, oh never may it rise!" 
 But if there be, as poets tell, 
 For dramas damn'd, some critic hell,t 
 
 There 
 
 * " In umbra 
 
 " Amissos quaeritu- foetus." 
 
 So far Mr. L went, but I hope he lias felt no inclination 
 
 " integrare mherabile carmen." 
 
 -j- G n, K . Had these gentlemen not been often 
 assured that they were not beauties, I should not have pre- 
 sumed to have made them the au jiis alter of a painter's 
 au-rsion. 
 
 t Somewhat of this kind is Milton's limbo, where are to be 
 found 
 
 All the unaccomplish'd works of nature's hand 
 Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixed. 
 
 P. L. III. A55.
 
 35 
 
 There shall your hapless works " lie howling," 
 Oh L , A , and D . 
 
 Here, in her loose and careless style, 
 Permit the *muse to pause a while, 
 Soon shall she take her flight abroad 
 t Armed with the laurel and the rod, 
 With equal justice, thro' the town, 
 Error to lash, or merit crown. 
 
 * Per quella strada, 
 
 A gli nemici se n' ando diritto : 
 
 Quel che segni, nell' altro canto e scritto. 
 
 Orl. Pur. C. VHI. 
 
 IAIAA, a.
 
 SECOND EPISTLE. 
 
 Mimas, balatrones, hoc genus onme 
 Mcestum ac sollicitum est. 
 
 Hob. L. I. S. 2. 
 
 A. FLOURISH, trumpets ! beat ye drums, 
 
 The Crow-street corps in triumph comes, 
 
 Fierce in theatric pride,* they take 
 
 The hostile field for glory's sake, 
 
 To vindicate before the town 
 
 Their master's honour and their own ; 
 
 And prove to visual demonstration, 
 
 The justice of their reputation. 
 
 In 
 
 * This allegorical or rather prophetical commotion,, which, 
 in the first Edition, was only a vision of fancy, has been fully 
 realized. In vain did the Patentee advise the players not to 
 buy the Book, in vain did he send one copy to the Green-room, 
 to supercede the necessity of general purchase, in vain did he 
 exhort them to say nothing about it, and that it would " die 
 and be forgotten'^ all in vain, the pertinacious Book would 
 not die, and the indiscreet actors took care it should not be 
 forgotten ci /usv nva^ovro Kara ffroXty this, with perhaps 
 some little merit in the work, has been the occasion that three 
 thousand cop!s have been sold in a few months, and that the 
 eyes of all my countrymen have been directed to a subject of 
 national importance " nunc" I may say with Tacitus " pep- 
 fecto spectaculo apertum iter."
 
 38 
 
 In person every gallant soul 
 That nightly drains the tragic bowl j 
 And all, who, in the comic strife, 
 Kick up their heels and call it life j 
 And every son of farce, and all 
 Who op'ras scrape, orcp'ras squall; 
 Each Leap-Jack that thro' ballets capers, 
 And all who light and snuff the tapers, 
 And last the household forces rally, 
 Led on by modest Mc. A ly;* 
 Who in the ardour of hostility, 
 Forgets his annual civility, 
 Which (to the moon as ocean flows) 
 Comes with his benefit and goes. 
 Eager for fight the heroes brandish 
 Their swords, the box-keeper his standish, 
 The tribe of Shiiffkton$,\ their switches, 
 Their truncheons ghosts, their brooms the witches : 
 
 The 
 
 * I did this man the injury to omit his name in my first 
 Edition : his subsequent conduct induces me to rectify my error. 
 His activity to discover the Author of these Letters, has been 
 as constant as unsuccessful, and his criticisms on my Work, 
 aye, the deputy Box-keeper's criticisms, have been as daring as 
 ridiculous; a kind of old-clothes'-man of news, he ran about 
 picking up shreds and patches of information, with which he 
 formed a party-coloured jacket for the imaginary author. I 
 did not wish to mention him, but he knows by what imperious 
 means he has forced himself into the honour of " hitching into 
 verse," but I hope I have gagged him at last, and that, hence- 
 forward, he may by deterred from thinking or speaking of 
 what heaven has set apart from low rank, and mean under- 
 standings. 
 
 f- The tribe of Shuffietons, because the authors, and (where 
 they have omitted it) the actoi -s have, of late, represented all 
 
 yc u-ig
 
 39 
 
 The Mechanists,* in dire commotion, 
 With storms disturb the earth and ocean, 
 Blow up their mines, burst rocks in sunder, 
 And roll, like Jove of yore, the thunder. 
 
 But most of all, the f hireling race, 
 Whose labours Kuster's art disgrace, 
 Beat, with intense and fruitless pains, 
 The place that shou'd contain their brains, 
 To earn a mean and paltry bribe;}: ill, 
 And what they cannot answer, libel. 
 
 And 
 
 young men of rank or vivacity, with a most disgusting same- 
 ness of vulgarity, folly and vice, " facies omnibus una." 
 
 * Mechanists. I place those gentlemen near the summit of 
 my climax, because really their Hives, the sea, the rocks, 
 the trees, and the tempests, are the most admired, and in- 
 deed the best performers we have. I have more than once 
 seen an unruly audience entirely appeased by a thunder- 
 storm; and a well-timed shower of rain never fails (if suffi- 
 ciently violent) to produce the most comfortable and tran- 
 quillising effects. 
 
 f I was at first perplexed to know how to treat those crea- 
 tures, " mihi autem nee silere honestum neque proloqui ex- 
 peditum." I have taken a middle course, I have described the 
 species without mentioning (I had almost said enquiring, quod 
 et verum) the names of the individuals. 
 
 J It is a fact, and to my knowledge, that some writers in' the 
 public Journals, who are mean enough to flatter the managers 
 and actors, and base enough to revile their opponents, are re- 
 warded with free admissions to the Theatre. But indeed they 
 are overpaid, for really they are hurtful only to their em- 
 ployers,
 
 40 
 
 * And now behold, amongst them flies 
 Loose Falsehood, rolling squinting eyes ; 
 And bearing thro' th' embattled field, 
 Foul Impudence's changeless shield 
 Of lasting brass is formed each bound, 
 And slanderous serpents hiss around 
 With this she speeds her way along, 
 To fire and animate the throng, 
 Thro' thick and thin, in wrong or right, 
 To vengeance and eternal fight. 
 
 " Rest, rest, perturbed spirits rest;** 
 Smooth the brow, and calm the breast ; 
 Silence your howls and still your moans, 
 Ye Jackall Gazetteers of Jones. 
 fBe not at me at the menace flung, 
 Move not at me the unlicensed tongue, 
 
 Shake 
 
 ployers, and they seem to be blessed with a retrograde activity 
 that reminds one of the poor folks in Dante, 
 
 Mirabflamente apparve esser travolto, 
 Ciascun dal mento al principio del casso : 
 Che dalli reni era tomato '1 volto, 
 E indietro venir li convenia, 
 Perche il veder dinanzi era lor tolto. 
 
 Infern. Cant. XX. 
 
 * Mtra it yXauxZiTrit 'Aflwij, 
 
 AiyiV 'tfirifxov, iyhfaov, a6a.va.rnv te 
 T5{ Xtov Qiieravoj <rtay^v<rl<n neptflovlo, 
 J.VY t? ira.^aa-3-Ha-a, iiiira-uro Aaov 'A^atiy 
 'Orfiivue' cLWmtov woXj*i{iv. 
 
 -J- 1 do not wish, in the slightest degree, to restrain either 
 public or private criticisms on my little book, but I entreat the 
 dunces not to attribute their dullness to me, who have really 
 faults enough of my own to aimer for.
 
 41 
 
 Shake not at me the leaden skull, 
 
 Is it my crime that you are dull ? 
 
 Is it my crime, that in those days, 
 
 When the young mind its germ displays, 
 
 Your withering reasons stunted grew, 
 
 Bathed in no mild Castalian dew, 
 
 Warmed by no rays that heaven imparts, 
 
 Nor rear'd by learning's fostering arts? 
 
 That study on your minds, of yore, 
 
 Engrafted not " the *ancient lore/' 
 
 Nor trained your vigorous thoughts to shoot, 
 
 In sweet succession,f flowers and fruit ?- 
 
 Is it my crime, that on the ground, 
 You creep your native circle round, 
 Low reptile weeds, that worthless run, 
 Far from the invigorating sun r 
 
 Believe 
 
 * My unlucky quotations, by placing some sentences of my 
 book beyond the reach of those who never had the good for- 
 tune of being sent to school, have exceedingly discomposed 
 and distressed all the answerers and some of the players, J'en 
 suis fache, but had I totally omitted these scraps of " ancient 
 lore," how would the condition of the dunces have been bet- 
 tered ? Let's have the opinion of Saint Jerome in this point, 
 " Quando in manus nostras libri veniunt sapientiae saecularis, 
 si quid in eis \itile reperimus, ad nostrum dogma convertimus." 
 Fpist. 146. So do I. 1 
 
 f I too may be thought as incapable as the dunces of bear- 
 ing flowers and fruit of my own, but at least I have now and 
 then procured them for my readers from the gardens of Greece, 
 and Italy. 
 
 " Scelgo questo, scelgo quello, 
 
 " Mi diletto d' ogni fior." . 
 
 Rolli.
 
 42 
 
 Believe me, I lament your lot, 
 And wish you all that you are not, 
 The heirs of learning, temper, sense, 
 Good-breeding, taste and eloquence. 
 
 You, too, oh curb your thoughtless rage, 
 Heroes and heroines of the stage ! 
 Vain is your bustle, and your fear 
 Causeless, no enemy is near. 
 Tho' some would have the world suppose 
 The players and I were private foes, 
 That with the men (much injured souls) 
 Fd quarrelPd o'er our midnight bowls ; 
 Or that unanswered love I felt, 
 And stabb'd the heart I could not melt; 
 Or that I drawl my hateful whine, 
 Because Jones asks me not to dine ; 
 Good reasons all but urg'd in vain ! 
 No midnight bowls with players / drain, 
 Try no fair Thespian's heart to move, 
 Nor sadly sigh unanswered love; 
 And from Jones equally despise, 
 His farces and *his fricasees. 
 
 Had those, indeed, whose smile is fame, 
 Whose judgment truth, whose censure shame, 
 Condemned me by their critic nod, 
 
 In silence I had kissed the rod : 
 
 Had 
 
 * Why am I obliged to recar to a subject which (I hear) is 
 disagreeable to Mr. Joiies,tho' God knoxs why ? I hoped that, if 
 I bad even told his excellent story of a ham stewed in Madeira, 
 he would have forgiven me. I find, however, that I was mis- 
 taken, and I should never have again touched on the subject, 
 had I not been forced to do so.
 
 43 
 
 Had *CharlevilIe with well bred sneer, 
 
 Hinted my verse was too severe, 
 
 And bid me, for example, mark 
 
 The harmless mirth of Joan of Arc ; 
 
 Had f Kearney, at the bard's expence, 
 
 Cast off his learned indolence, 
 
 And with grave pleasantry reproved, 
 
 The failings of the muse he loved ; 
 
 Had jKirwan analyzed my lay, 
 
 And found it dull and worthless clay, 
 
 Save where a vein of lead or brass 
 
 Or salt of malice streak'd the mass ; 
 
 ||Had classic Preston's friendly tongue 
 
 Repressed my hopes, and check'd my song ; 
 
 -Or 
 
 * " Multa morum elegantia," and perhaps I may even add, 
 " ingenio inlustris" will Lord Charleville permit me to say 
 that I do not approve the expenditure of his taste and talents 
 on a certain translation attributed to him ; I know that, like 
 Ovid's personage, it has been said to be " bipennifer areas," but 
 this I can hardly believe. I am happy however to be able to 
 offer to my Lord Charleville the unmingled praise of being a 
 generous and knowing patron of learning, and the arts, and a 
 most amiable and honourable gentleman. 
 
 f Summa sibi exacta licentia jocandi (as Suetonius says) 
 the Provost is too just to deny it to another, and I believe I 
 have the honour of reckoning him amongst the foremost of 
 these who acknowledge, that they have been amused by my 
 " lusus in theatrum." 
 
 J What could I add to the fame of him whose works are read 
 in every city in Europe except Dublin. 
 
 || The highest praise which these Epistles have received, was 
 couched in a report that they were written by William Preston 
 this consoles me for the mortification of hearing them attri- 
 buted to a thousand fools.
 
 44 
 
 Or yet the nameless bard, whose powers 
 
 Deck'd party politics with flowers, 
 
 And from the sullen * Orange press'd 
 
 Grateful sense, and pungent jest; 
 
 fHad Browne, who hardly will agree 
 
 To abandon Nero, fled from me, 
 
 And ranged beneath the adverse banners 
 
 One friend to candour, taste and manners ; 
 
 Had 
 
 The Orange, a work still anonymous but " ov ci(A.ova-ey," 
 while I admire and respect the author's abilities, I must, how- 
 ever, protest against being considered as the friend, or even fa- 
 vourer, of his theological politics. I have no fears of the 
 prisca religio, 
 
 Qua, multa sacerdos 
 
 Lignea comuleret veterum -simulacra d;orum. 
 
 Ov. Metam. X. 
 
 f Arthur Browne, L. L. D. His Majesty's Prime Serjeant, a 
 senior fellow of Trinity College, Boccalini, in his Ragguagli 
 di Parnasso, pretends that Nero gave Tacitus a million of mo- 
 ney in reward for the historian's praises of him in the XIIL 
 book of his Annals. What sum would Boccalini award to the 
 Prime Seijeaut who in his " Essays on miscellaneous Subjects," 
 has far exceeded Tacitus in zeal for this calumniated prince, 
 and has, at least, proved, according to the proverb, that 
 * the devil is not so black as he is painted.' It must indeed 
 be confessed, that nothing could have been more wise and bene- 
 ficent than the measures which Tacitus ascribes to this prince 
 for the convenience and embellishments of the city of Rome. 
 The account of one of those improvements is peculiarly 
 striking, " Jam aqua privatorum Ikentia intercepta, quo largior 
 et pluribus locis in publicum flueret, &c. &c." Murphy's 
 translation talks of pipe-water commissioners but Murphy is 
 an Irishman.
 
 45 
 
 *Had Smith's enlarged and various mind, 
 Deep, playful vigorous and refined, 
 Seen in my song, the vulgar sallies 
 Of falsehood, ignorance, and malice, 
 And at his oun and merit's foes, 
 
 Pointed his epigrams in prose 
 
 Then, would the trembling muse submit, 
 Chastised by manners, sense, and wit, 
 Bow to their sentence, nor presume, 
 To stickle for a gentler doom, 
 But under sorrow's conscious load, 
 
 Would sing her humble palinode : 
 
 But as it is while Learning smiles, 
 
 On the light nothing that beguiles 
 
 Her hours subsecive while my verse 
 
 Themis's laughing sons rehearse, 
 
 And Taste, (its nicer thoughts restraining) 
 
 Owns that my folly's entertaining, 
 
 In vain shall fiery f F task all 
 
 "Who praise my book with " rogue and rascal," 
 
 In 
 
 * One of the Barons of the Exchequer, optimi viri filium, 
 
 optima ipsum spe praeditum, summae denique dignitatis," 
 
 those who are acquainted with the metaphysical and logical 
 precision of his thoughts and expressions will guess what I 
 mean by " epigrams in prose ! ! Baron Smith will at first per- 
 suade himself, that, he knows who I am, yet it is very pos- 
 sible that YHsJirst opinion may be erroneous, and I am not sure 
 that the second or the third will be correct. 
 
 f This alludes to a very strange circumstance one F 
 having by some means found his way into the green-room 
 of Crow-street, was pleased, as it is said, to deliver his criti- 
 cal opinion of my book in the following elegant sentence, " the 
 
 book's
 
 46 
 
 In vain shall Jones, for those who judge ill, 
 Wave o'er his head a critic * cudgel ; 
 At angry words, and arguing staffs 
 Alike, the muse indignant laughs, 
 Nor work they deeper on her thoughts/ 
 Than erst on Talbot and on Potts. 
 
 Mean is the soul whose sour chagrin. 
 Private hate, or causeless spleen, 
 
 Aims 
 
 book's a rascally book, and whoever likes it is a'rascalj" to this 
 morceau of logic and good manners, Mr. Talbot, who hap- 
 pened to be present, calmly replied " that be could not 
 think so, as the work had undoubtedly some degree of merit ;" 
 at whichtasteless and outrageous assertion of Mr. Talbot's, 
 the critic was rash enough " Vimw (oiftoi) TAr/novera-rov Xoyv." 
 The consequence was, that Mr. Talbot, who (whatever be his 
 taste) has all the spirit of a gentleman, took immediate and 
 effectual vengeance, and soon brought down our over hasty 
 Aristarchus to a move rational and moderate stile of cri- 
 ticism. 
 
 * " Baculus pars est oroatus histrionici" says the commen- 
 tator on Suetonius, and this I suppose was the authority 
 of the musical Lindsay, for arming himself with " a quarter- 
 staff wherewithal to slay every of those" who should dis- 
 like his singing; but as neither Suetonius nor his commentator 
 assert the " baculus" to be a part of the ma?wger , s equip- 
 ment, I am at a loss to know what could induce a gentleman 
 of Mr. Jones's rank and character to adorn himself with that 
 " inutile lignum" (as it turned out to be,) which so amazed 
 Mr. Potts's printer's devils. But, to be serious, I hope and 
 indeed believe, that Mr. Jones did not intend to controul tlie 
 liberty of the Press, by assault and battery, and that the fear 
 which needlessly seized those devils, exaggerated a Twftwg 
 switch into a tremendous cudgel. *
 
 47 
 
 Aims to wound with felon dart, 
 The feelings of the honest heart 
 'Gainst him, the assassin, may the crie3 
 Of universal vengeance rise; 
 And justice place in every hand, 
 A * scourge to lash him thro' the land ; 
 But shall we spare the venal mind, 
 Of hungry cowards, base and blind, 
 Who wade thro' flattery's filthy way 
 For fear of blows, or hopes of pay. 
 Such as with mercenary aim, 
 Scatter around promiscuous fame. 
 Equal to Garrick or to Barry 
 
 The Hero f of the push and parry ; 
 
 Discreetly hint that sportive Clive 
 
 In Davidson J is still alive : 
 
 Or with more shameless puff will tell ye 
 That Cooke || is equal to Gorelli ; 
 
 And 
 * Othello, act V. 
 
 f One Galindo, a very good fencing- master, perhaps, a very 
 indifferent player, most certainly. If Bonaparte ever obtains 
 the dominion of the Irish republic, I hope he will not have the 
 ingratitude to forget him who so pompously displayed the 
 triumphs of Marengo, in the very Theatre Royal of the Ca- 
 pital. Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones, you permitted it ! Is not your 
 name in the red-book Mr. Jones, as one of the Viceroy's 
 household ? 
 
 \ Davidson. I pity this poor girl, who is for ever obtruded 
 on the public in parts very unfit for her ; she may, for aught 
 I know, have her own little merits, but they must be in a very 
 different style of character from that she usually plays. 
 
 || Cooke. The modest and diffident Mr. Tom Cooke, who 
 played on eight different instruments for his oicn benefit ; I 
 
 a,m
 
 4-S 
 
 And liken, with unhallow'd scandal, 
 His noises to the strains of Handel.* 
 Far, far from these my course is drawn, 
 Averse to slander, or to fawn ; 
 Raised high above those groveling cares, 
 That fetter journalists and players, 
 Too distant from their humble life, 
 To share its fondnesses, or strife. 
 I've no temptation, thanks to fate, 
 
 To lie from hunger or from hate. 
 
 Come then, dear Jones, as Colonels use 
 
 To attend the general that reviews, 
 
 ' Bear/' 
 
 am sure it was neither benefit or pleasure to any one else. 
 This person writes new overtures, to all the operas which are 
 imported to our siage, beginning generally with chords, and 
 ending with an Irish jig, and this he calls composition. The 
 young man, however, has some merit, and if he went to Lon- 
 don, would probably earn two or three guineas a week, by 
 playing country -dance s at the winter balls. Seriously, I 
 wish he could be taught a little science, a little taste, and 
 a little modesty, and he might be a very useful and agreea- 
 ble fiddler. 
 
 * " I hope" (says the eligant author of the Few Reflections,) 
 " that after he (Mr. Tom Cooke) has read this book of mine 
 (Mr. Reflector,) " he will compose such an overture as he 
 " need not be ashamed to play at the Irish Anacreontic Society, 
 " and such as" what for a ducat? '* as Handel himself 
 * would be proud to own ! ! !" Really, the boast of the imperial 
 fiddler; (I beg Doctor Brown's and Tacitus's pardons;) " se 
 omnia facienda fecisse" was modesty, mere puling modesty, 
 in comparison with the ignorant assurance of Mr. Tom Cooke's 
 admirer.
 
 49 
 
 " Bear," by my side, " a wary eye/' 
 And see 3'our regiment pass by. 
 
 First Talbot* comes, the first indeed- 
 But fated never to succeed, 
 In the discerning eye of those 
 Who form their taste on Kemble's nose, 
 And deem that genius a dead loss is, 
 Without dark brows, and long proboscis; 
 Talbot, 'tis certain, must despair 
 To rival Kemble's sombrous stare, 
 Or reach that quintessence of charms 
 With which black Roscius moves his arms. 
 A trifling air and stripling form, 
 Ill-fitted to the tragic storm : 
 A baby face, that sometimes shows 
 Alike in transports or in woes, 
 Will ne'er permit him to resemble, 
 Or soar the tragic flights of Kemble ; 
 Yet in some -(-scenes together plac'd 
 With greater feeling, equal taste, 
 
 c From 
 
 * Talbot. Tho' I have so fully given my opinion of Mr. 
 Talbot in verse, let me however add in prose that I fear he is 
 not quite so great a favourite behind the curtain, as he is be- 
 fore it. I should wish to see him oftener. 
 
 f Tullus Aufidius in Coriolanus, and Lysimaehus in Alex- 
 ander, (amongst many parts) are fine specimens of his abi- 
 lity whether it arises from emulation or chance, I cannot de- 
 termine, but he certainly plays best, when he plays with 
 Kemble. v
 
 50 
 
 From a judicious audience draws 
 
 As much and as deserv'd applause.* 
 
 But whatsoe'er his tragic claim, 
 
 He rules o'er comedy, supreme,! 
 
 By art and nature chastely fit 
 
 To play the gentleman or wit; 
 
 Not Harris's, nor Coleman's boards, 
 
 Nor all that Drury-lane affords, 
 
 Can paint the rakish Charles^ so well, 
 
 Give so much life to^ Mirabel; 
 
 Or show, for light and airy sport, 
 
 So exquisite a| Doricourt. 
 
 Sometimes it seems that thoughts arise, 
 
 That cloud his brow, and dim his eyes, 
 
 Buried 
 
 * Will the reader forgive me for requesting him at this pas- 
 sage, and at some others, where truth has given me leave to 
 praise, to turn back to the extracts from the Freeman's Journal, 
 in page 21 of the Preface well, you have read it pray what 
 do you think of the Kitchenstuff Gazette, of the Literary Ra- 
 gouts of our modern Mistyllus and Taratalla ? I know your an- 
 swer 
 
 " O dura lectorum ilia ! 
 " Quid hoc veneni saevit in praecordiis? 
 
 " Num viperinus his cruor 
 " Jncoctis verbis me fefellit ? 
 
 Hor. Epo. III. 
 
 f Let me not be understood to represent Talbot as a perfect 
 comic actor, when I only consider him, as the least distant 
 from excellence, of any that I have lately seen. Proximus, 
 bed intervallo. 
 
 + Charles, Mirabel, and Doricourt. I have seen him play, 
 at least the two former of those characters at Drury-lane with 
 universal admiration. Mrs. Jordan (no very bad judge) thinks 
 him, as I am told, the best Mirabel on the stage.
 
 51 
 
 Buried be such within his breast ; 
 
 There while he's acting let them rest ; 
 
 Nor on his countenance be shown, 
 
 Whining mirth and maudlin fun ; 
 
 Nor let him negligent of grace, 
 
 Swing his arms and writhe his face, 
 
 Nor sway and balance with his form, 
 
 Like sailors walking in a storm ; 
 
 But move the course, by Garrick* track'd in, 
 
 And act as if he were not acting ; 
 
 So every tedious ordeal pass'd, 
 
 Fortune must crown his toils at last. 
 
 * See Retaliation. 
 
 c$ THIRD
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 Quoniam semper appetentes gloriae atque avidi 
 laudis fuistis, delenda vcbis est ilia macula, 
 
 Cic. pro. L. M. 
 
 I 
 
 F youth and loveliness could charm* 
 Or shape the critic coldness warm, 
 Could gay variety dispense 
 On every essay, excellence ; 
 And were we only bound to tell 
 How much one plays, and not how well; 
 To Walstein* then, this votive line, 
 A galaxy of praise should shine, 
 And every word I write upon her, 
 Should offer eulogy and honour ; 
 But she whom all pursuits engage, 
 This femalef Proteus of the stage, 
 
 Who 
 
 * Walstein. On revising my opinion of this young lady, I 
 find that it is perhaps too favourable but n'importe, the world 
 always receives a man's commendations of a pretty woman, 
 cum grano salts. 
 
 j- Uafltt it ytyv6(A.nvos irtifha-tr'. 
 
 OAYZ. A.
 
 54 
 
 Who thro* all nature boldly flies, 
 And in one little fortnight tries, 
 Calista, Yarico, and Nell, 
 And poor Sir Peter's rural belle, 
 Cannot, in reason, hope to claim 
 In all her parts, an equal fame. 
 I own her feeling, taste and spirit, 
 Her versatility of merit, 
 I own that it were hard to find 
 In one, more excellence combin'd ; 
 But should she therefore grasp at all, 
 The gay, the grave, the great, the small 
 And, vainly prove herself at heart 
 A kind of Crow-street Bonaparte, 
 Will no one whisper that she plays ill, 
 The froward mirth of Lady Teazle; 
 Or hint that nothing can beguile, 
 To humour, her sepulchral* smile ? 
 Her eye in tragic glances roll'd, 
 The length'ning nose of Kemble mould, 
 
 And 
 
 * Sepulchral smile. A legal wit said of a brother barrister 
 that a smile on his countenance was like plating on a coffin. 
 Such is Miss. Walstein's attempt to look sprightly : She plays 
 the gay parts of Lsetitia Hardy tolerably, because she plays 
 them in a mask. To her success, however, in this character, 
 we are to attribute a good deal of the vanity of which I com- 
 plain j I wish she could get some of her male acqva'mtance to 
 translate for her use, this excellent precept of Horace : 
 
 Memento sen-are mentem, 
 Ab insolenti temperatam 
 
 Ijctitia. 
 
 On. III. Lib. 2.
 
 55 
 
 And chin eternal, must prevent 
 Her looking archly innocent. 
 Poor Mirabel,* by Kemble play'd, 
 Look'd like Macbeth in masquerade 
 And Siddons, f in her mirth, we find 
 Mixing up Shore with Rosalind ; J 
 Learn, Walstein, from their baffled pride, 
 To follow nature as your guide,- 
 
 Or but the candid muse will spare 
 
 Comparisons 'twere hard to bear! 
 
 Alas ! how willingly I'd raise 
 
 The song of undiminish'd praise ; 
 
 If, spite of beauty and of youth, 
 
 You were not still less fair than truth.\\ 
 
 But tho' my tongue 's unskilled to shower, 
 
 Such honied praise as falls from , 
 
 What tho' with *s gentle art 
 
 I cannot lull the ear or heart, 
 
 Believe 
 
 * I have had the misfortune to see this exhibition ; truly it 
 was, as Shakespeare says, " most tragical mirth." 
 
 f Miss Walstein seems to have no more objection to ap- 
 pear, in breeches, before two or three hundred men, than 
 Mrs. Siddons though they are equal in modesty, they are 
 very unlike in personal attractions, and poor Siddons did the 
 less mischief. 
 
 \ I have heard of a lady, who wept plentifully throughout 
 the whole of " As you like it," from an unhappy opinion, that 
 Rosalind was Jane Shore. I am glad to relate the anecdote, 
 that so much good tears should not go for nothing. 
 
 || Amicus Plato magis arnica Veritas. (1805.)
 
 56 
 
 Believe me, Walstein, that I feel 
 
 As pure respect, as candid zeal, 
 
 As flattery talks and that I blame 
 
 The spots of error on your fame, 
 
 Only in hopes to see it rise, 
 
 TV unclouded radiance of our skies. 
 
 Yet, could I think my verse had drawn 
 
 The slightest vapour o'er your dawn, 
 
 From your fair breast one sorrowing sigh, 
 
 One pearly tear-drop from your eye, 
 
 By heaven, I would not, for the praise 
 
 With which kind tongues have blessed my lays, 
 
 Nor yet for all that dearer fame, 
 
 Which, from the dunces' hate, I claim, 
 
 Have caused, by falsehood's shaft severe, 
 
 That sorrowing sigh, that pearly tear. 
 
 Away for sad Galindo* room ! 
 Living memento of the tomb ; 
 Upon her dark unalter'd brow 
 Sits one eternal cloud of woe, 
 And from her throat a voice she heaves 
 Like winds that moan thro' ruin'd caves ; 
 The trembling stage she passes o'er, 
 As if she stepp'd knee deep in gore ; 
 And every dismal glance she scowls, 
 Seems cast at daggers, racks, and bowls. 
 
 But 
 
 * In the former editions, this character immediately fol- 
 lowed that of Mr. Talbot, hut as I, in some degree, make Miss 
 Walstein a standard by which I explain my opinion of Mrs. G., 
 I have thought proper to transpose their portraits.
 
 57 
 
 But this is error; sternest grief 
 Bars not the soul from all relief; 
 And human feelings ne'er remain 
 Stretch'd on the unceasing rack of pain. 
 Poor Shore, some rays of hope beguile, 
 And Denmark's queen must sometimes smile ; 
 Maternal joy, in Constance, speaks, 
 And lives on Lady Randolph's cheeks. 
 Short is the beam that breaks the night 
 Of grief, but thence 'tis doubly bright, 
 And woe so touching ne'er appears, 
 As April smiles, thro' showers of tears. 
 
 Could but our fair one learn to bear 
 An easier look, and lighter air, 
 Give more emotion to her face, 
 And to her shape a varying grace ; , 
 With so much feeling, so much sense, 
 We'd own her claim to eminence- 
 Confess her easily the queen 
 Of all that sweep our tragic scene, 
 And fix her place* between (let's say) 
 Siddons and Walstein, just half way. 
 
 c 3 But 
 
 * On the subject of the respective merits of Mrs. Galindo. 
 and Miss Walstein, I can easily believe, that my adjudication 
 will be disputed by the admirers of the latter, " car la beaute 
 est dangereuse, et il n'y a pas de renin plus capable de cor- 
 rompre I'inlegri'e d'un juge." But I guess the public will be, 
 in general, of my opinion. Mrs. Galindo is too lugubre, but 
 she is still a very good actress in her line; and, to do her justice, 
 she never makes herself ridiculous, by attempting parte foe 
 which she is not, in some degree, fitted.
 
 58 
 
 But who is this, all boots and breeches, 
 Cravat and cape, and spurs and switches, 
 Grin and grimace, and shrugs and capers, 
 And affectation, spleen, and vapours ? 
 
 Oh, Mr. Richard Jones,* your humble; 
 Prithee give o'er to mouth and mumble ; 
 Stand still, speak plain, and let us hear 
 What was intended for the ear ; 
 For faith, without the timely aid 
 Of bills, no parts you've ever played, 
 Handy, Shuffleton, or Rover, 
 Sharper, Stroller, Lounger, Lover, 
 Could I, amidst your mad-cap pother, 
 Ever distinguish from each other. 
 'Tis true that Lewisf jumps and prates, 
 And mutters, and extravagates ; 
 
 But 
 
 * Richard Jones has a kind of merit, which, perhaps, he 
 overrates, but which a little study may improve to more than 
 respectability. He is always lively, often amusing, sometimes 
 intelligible, seldom rational: on a stage nearly barren of merit, 
 it is natural he should be "fete" unoculus inter ccecos is a very 
 t onsiderable person. He is almost the " acteur gate" that 
 Gil Bias describes, " a qui le parterre pardonne tout; on lui 
 marquoit trop le plaisir que l'on prenoit a le voir, aussi en 
 abusait-il; si l'on eut siffle, au lieu de crier miracle, on lui 
 auroit souvent rendu justice." Let me, however, do justice to 
 Lis Liddler ; the character is luckily as extravagant (I mean 
 metaphorically) as the actor; and both are wonderfully outres 
 and entertaining. 
 
 j- Lewis has great faults and great beauties; why should 
 not R. Jones be as capable of imitating the tatter as the former ? 
 He has undoubtedly no inconsiderable disposition towards 
 
 making
 
 59 
 
 But then it equally as true is, 
 
 That, Mr. Jones ! you are not Lewis. 
 
 What tho' with all the sprightly arts 
 Of hair-brain'd mirth you deck your parts ; 
 What tho', whenever you appear, 
 Laughter with ready voice is near ; 
 And that your happy nonsense draws 
 The doubtful meed of blind applause, 
 The judging few, whose critic praise 
 Is worth whole galleries' loud huzzas, 
 Lament to see your meteor fire 
 Of talents kindle and expire ; 
 No steady ray of light it gives, 
 But lives and dies, and dies and lives; 
 As chance directs, or wrong or right, 
 The ignis fatuus of the night. 
 
 The vivid spark that heaven bestows, 
 On genius, not untended glows ; 
 The breath of popular acclaim 
 Shakes and disturbs the infant flame ; 
 And, unless sense her screen supplies, 
 It trembles, quivers, starts, and dies ; 
 But fenced by judgment's crystal bounds 
 Pure and serene it beams around, 
 Diffusing thro' the mental shade 
 Its steady brilliancy and aid. 
 
 Jones ! 
 
 making a good actor, and it is just to add, that he is very cor- 
 rect, and very assiduous, in bis new parts. " Juvat mc hoc 
 tribuisse."
 
 60 
 
 Jones ! to your ear my cautious lays, 
 May seem too niggard of their praise- 
 Perhaps 'tis true and shall I own, 
 They seem not so to you alone. 
 And feared I not to turn a brain 
 Already volatile and vain ; 
 Were I not anxious to repress, 
 Youthful ambition's wild excess, 
 I'd say, it equally as true is, 
 That, Mr. Jones,* you may be Lewis. 
 
 Perennial Hitchcock now appears, 
 Victorious o'er the frost of years ; 
 Fresh flowers ado'rn her latest days, 
 A kind of Thespian aloes. 
 Blest in each walk of social life, 
 Unwrung by care, unvex'd by strife ; 
 With placid mind, and temperate soul, 
 She sees old Time innoxious roll, 
 And, from his favouring pinions, shed 
 Age unoppressive o'er her head. 
 
 Her acting, not unlike her fate, 
 Nor meanly low, nor brightly great, 
 She walks the stage's middle course, 
 Without or feebleness or force ; 
 
 And 
 
 * In the former editions, I said of Mr. H. Jones nothing 
 hut what I thought, but I did not s,.y all that I thought I 
 have since observed so much good scr.se and candour, in the 
 change which just criticism lias operated in his acting, that I 
 think I may at Ia,st trust him with the secret, that 1 kuow no 
 young person, in his line, on any stage, of half his taltuis.
 
 61 
 
 And, whatsoe'er she act, our eyes 
 No faults offend, no powers surprize. 
 
 But, let us own that, were she blest 
 With talents, such as Pope* possest, 
 Still we should grieve, to see her play 
 Every part,f and every day, 
 The young, the old, coquette, or prude, 
 Polish'd dame, or housewife rude 
 Till, surfeited at last, we feel 
 The truth of " la pate d'anguille.":j; 
 
 * Miss Pope, le dernier rejetton of the old school, the pupil 
 of the Garricks, the imitator of the Olives, and the best actress 
 that the men of our day ever have seen, or perhaps ever will 
 see. Those, who have had the happiness to see her Mrs. Hei- 
 delberg, with King's Lord Ogleby, and Wewitzer's Canton, in 
 the Clandestine Marriage, may form an opinion of " how plays 
 should be acted." 
 
 f This is by no means the result of a mis-timed vanity in 
 Mrs. Hitchcock ; it is the nr-cessary consequence of the mise- 
 rable deficiency of good actresses, with which our drama is 
 afflicted. The public is rather under obligations to Mrs. Hitch- 
 cock, for the readiness with which she undertakes every thing 
 that she thinks can conduce to their entertainment. 
 
 The variety of parts she is obliged by the poverty of the 
 company to study and play, must be very distressing to a per- 
 ron of her age and situation 
 
 Nil parcunt Seni, 
 
 Si quae laboriosa est, ad earn curritur, 
 Sin lenis est, ad aliam defertur. 
 
 Ter. Prol. in Heautontim. 
 
 + La Fontaine.

 
 FOURTH EPISTLE. 
 
 T ragcedus 
 Sub nutrice, velut si luderet infans. 
 
 Hor. Epis. ad Aug. 
 
 H, 
 
 .USH ! 'tis attention all around, 
 Fix'd is each eye and still'd each sound, 
 Silence on every lip is prest, 
 And pleasure throbs in every breast. 
 What is to come ? will Barry rise, 
 Or Gar rick glad our wond'ring eyes ? 
 What miracle is to be wrought 
 Beyond the common scope of thought ? 
 " The cry is now, they come, they come," 
 And lo! Glenalvon, and Tom Thumb:* 
 
 Now 
 
 * A child of the name of Betty, a native of Belfast, as it 
 is said, has been very lately added to the force of the company, 
 " mercy on us, abearne; a very pretty bearne" indeed but 
 so young, as, even in the part of Douglas, to throw an appear- 
 ance of ridicule and fantocinity over the whole performance. 
 This folly of exhibiting children is not quite modern. " There 
 is, Sir," saj's Rosincrantz to Hamlet, " an aiery of young chil- 
 dren, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question, and are 
 most tyrannically clapped for it. These are now the fashion" 
 but I believe it never was, before this year, the fashion to intro- 
 duce
 
 64. 
 
 Now clapping hands, and loud huzzas 
 Thunder the rapture of applause, 
 The very walls are rock'd, and why ? 
 The hero 's only four feet high ! 
 The noise redoubles, we are told 
 The hero *s only twelve years old ! 
 But oh ! what language could we find, 
 The raptures of the critic mind 
 To tell, could we our Douglas* call, 
 But two years old, and two feet tall ! ! ! 
 
 No 
 
 duce one infant to play the first characters among men and 
 women oh ! 'tis a dainty device to attract an audience j Daly's 
 poney races were not much worse. 
 
 * Douglas. Though I only take notice of this part, it is 
 meet to set it down, that the infant played Romeo to Mrs. 
 Kniveton's Juliet, and that they looked like an overgrown girl 
 and her doll. I should not be much amazed to see him adver- 
 tised for Henry VIII. or Sir John Falstaffe. He has also played 
 Prince Arthur : this was as it should be, mirabile dictu 1 
 
 Since the first part of this note was written, this ill-fated 
 Baby has been exhibited m Hamlet!!! Absurdity, cruelty, and 
 contempt, could have devised nothing more insulting to good 
 sense, humanity, and the Public. 
 
 I was mistaken; cruelty and absurdity are more ingenious 
 than I imagined : this poor child, after having been shewn 
 through all the provincial towns of Ireland, Scotland, and 
 England, has been at last exhibited in the metropolis of the 
 Empire, amidst those cries of enthusiastic folly, for which 
 that " blatant' beast," the populace of London, >s so disgrace- 
 fully notorious every night was the unhappy infant obliged to 
 play his distressing tricks, till, to crown all, the delicacy of 
 the public, the liberality e.f the managers, and the tenderness 
 
 of
 
 65 
 
 No wonder Randolph should be jealous, 
 He such a charming little fellow 's; 
 See how he steps in stately pride 
 At least six inches every stride j 
 See how he swells with lordly rage 
 Altho' no higher than a page ; 
 In vain two barons, stout and gaunt, 
 The little *Grildrig strive to daunt, 
 O'er both hef triumphs, and alack ! 
 Slays one ; Oh giant-killing Jack.'.'! 
 
 And is this then the wond'rous bait 
 For loud applause and houses great, 
 
 The 
 
 of his parents, goaded him to exertions so violent as to bring 
 on a dangerous illness, and then ? why then they published 
 bulletins of his state of health as had been done of that of the 
 King during his Majesty''s indisposition. 
 
 Divisum itnperium cum Jove Betty habet. 
 
 * " The frequent labours I underwent every day," (says 
 Grildrig,) " made, in a few weeks, a very considerable change 
 in my health," &c. &.c. Indeed, the entire of the third chapter 
 of the Voyage to Brobdignag, is worth the attention of those 
 who are curious concerning Betty; it is really the best history 
 of his life and adventures that has ever been published, though 
 it has the disadvantage of being an hundred years old. 
 
 f The victory of Betty over Hargrave (infelix puer, atque 
 impar congressus Achilli) was like the battles in Mother Goose's 
 Tales, in which fairies never fail to overcome giants ; but the 
 wonder is not greater than that one individual should subdue 
 the good sense of a whole city into a thraldom.
 
 60 
 
 The Roscius,* this, whose radiance bright, 
 Should dim the ineffectual light 
 Of all the glow-worms of the stage, 
 Of every size and every age? 
 
 An infant taken from his school, 
 A pitying Public to befool, 
 A baby victim, to atone 
 For all the faults of folks full grown : 
 As for the people's sins, of old 
 They slew the firstlings of the fold, 
 And thought the Gods would never damn 
 Those who should sacrifice a lamb. 
 
 Poor child, thy age and infant fears, 
 Thy talent,-}- far beyond thy years, 
 
 Thy 
 
 * Roscius. This was the modest title under which the 
 " little eyase" was announced, " ad captandum vulgus," and 
 it did its office with a vengeance. I heard some of my brethren 
 of the pit discoursing, " who this Roscius could be;" one 
 learned gentleman asserted, that it was one Garrick's christian 
 name ; but the general opinion seemed to be, that he was a 
 French actor, who had been guillotined in the early days of the 
 revolution. Those critics I observed to be particularly loud 
 and judicious in their applauses, as might be supposed. 
 
 J- La quale (dispositione) accompagnata del' ajuto ordi- 
 nario delle forze umane, pu6 un giorno, rendere quel giovine 
 de sommo talento. Vrr. de Sisto. V. 
 
 I do not deny the boy y s abilities, but I protest against turn- 
 ing the stage into a nursery ; and I lament that a promising 
 child should be deprived " del' ajuto ordinario," which might 
 
 make
 
 67 
 
 Thy simple tones untuned by art, 
 Would melt to praise the critic heart, 
 Were praise not ruin; if you now 
 To plain advice refuse to bow, 
 And rather lay thy boyish claim 
 To gusts of praise, than lasting fame ; 
 For some few months we'll call you clever, 
 And then, poor child, farewell for ever." 
 But to thy studies hence again 
 Turn the page, and guide the pen ; 
 Leave to the fribble* and the fool, 
 To scorn the seasoning of the school. 
 In History's magic glass, descry 
 How sages live, and heroes die ; 
 From lively Greecef and sober Rome, 
 Import their manners and costume, j 
 
 Weigh 
 
 make him an useful man, to be converted into a source of 
 theatrical revenue, and public ridicule. " Young men," says 
 Bacon, " should be learners, while men grown up are actors:" 
 This is true in every sense. 
 
 * The number of good actors who were not men of education 
 is very small: but, now-a-days, we imagine that all talents 
 come by inspiration, and that great abilities are the result 
 of the temporary exertion of what are called, our energies.- 
 " Tout est bien, sortant des mains de 1'auteur des choses, tour 
 degenere entre les mains de l'homme." Many persons seem 
 to have read no farther in Entile than the first sentence, which 
 is the most false and sophistical in the whole work et c'est 
 beaucoup dire. 
 
 } Fatendum Latinos fere a Graecis vinci lepore, sed vincere 
 gravitate. Voss. de Poet. Lat c 7. 
 
 J Were it not for some men of education, who, luckily for the 
 pleasures of the world, became managers and actors, we should 
 
 still
 
 68 
 
 Weigh all thy parts with learn'd care, 
 Be first a critic, then a player ; 
 And when, too soon, the flight of time 
 Shall give thy shape its manly prime, 
 And thought and study have refined, 
 And stored with classic taste thy mind ; 
 Then to the scene return and claim 
 Thy well-earn'd meed, perennial fame.* 
 
 Next 
 
 still have Cato played in a full-bottomed wig, and Coriolanus 
 en habit galonne, and peruque a la reine 
 
 When from the court a birth-day suit bestowed, 
 
 Sinks the lost actor in a tawdry load. 
 
 Booth enters; bark ! the universal peal ! 
 
 " But has he spoken ?" not a syllable, 
 
 " What shook the stage and m uie the people stare ?" 
 
 Cato's long wig, flower'd gown, and lacquer'd chair. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 " II portrait," says Scarron of M. Destin, " des cliausses trousseet 
 a bas d'attache, comme celles des comediens quand ils repre- 
 sentent un heros de I'anliquite." 
 
 The plates of Tonson's Edition of Shakespeare, 1709, afford 
 most ridiculous specimens of this false costume; in one of 
 them, Macbeth, equipped in all points, like a man of fashion 
 of Queen Anne's court, is looking with some degree of surprize, 
 at the ghost of Banquo, whose only habiliments are his shirt 
 and an enormous periwig, like those which Lord Chancellors 
 wear now a-days. Lear and Othello are still more whimsically 
 metamorphosed. 
 
 * I have given, perhaps, to Betty more than his share of 
 attention, but I shall not lament my trouble, if I should have 
 any influence in dissuading him from persisting, at present, in 
 
 his
 
 69 
 
 Next Williams* comes, the rude and rough, 
 With face most whimsically gruff, 
 Aping the careless sons of ocean, 
 He scorns each fine and easy motion ; 
 Tight to his sides his elbows pins,f 
 And dabbles with his hands like fins ; 
 
 Would 
 
 his dramatic pursuits, and in restoring him to the lessons of 
 his masters 'till he can say with the son of Ulysses : - 
 ^ tyv $' in vbmof na. 
 N"v i' Jts it (teytts h/A, Jtai aXAauv fxvQov aKUttf 
 TtwBavo/xett, xal In y.o: ai^trm h$o6i Qv/xot, 
 Uttfba-u. 
 Improved as this infant must be by a year's age and expe- 
 rience, I cannot change my opinion a son egard. Undisturbed 
 by the paroxysms of Cockney credulity, I repeat the assertion 
 and prophecy which I made concerning him; the first is, that 
 a child of twelve years old and four feet high (whatever be his 
 talents), must be, on the same stage with men and women, 
 unnatural and contemptible, and the second is, that if the vio- 
 lence of his course be not checked, 
 
 For some few months we'll call him clever, 
 And then, poor child, farewell for ever. 
 
 * Williams. This man plays second rate characters, with 
 fourth rate abilities Some of his sailors are very well ; and of 
 this he is so satisfied, that knowing where his talent lies, he 
 turns all his parts into sailors. His Crabtree, his Job Thorn- 
 berry, his Ibrahim, are dismal instances of this amphibious 
 merit N 
 
 Vidi ego civis 
 
 Retorta tergo brachia. 
 
 But the friends of freedom will rejoice to hear, that Mr. 
 Williams, at the instigation of this passage, has of late given 
 his elbows more liberty, than those unhappy captives hitherto 
 enjoyed.
 
 70 
 
 Would he display the greatest woe, 
 
 He slaps his breast, and points his toe ; 
 
 Is merriment to be express'd, 
 
 He points his toe and slaps his breast. 
 
 His turns are swings, his step a jump, 
 
 His feelings, fits, his touch a thump; 
 
 And violent in all his parts, 
 
 He speaks by gusts, and moves by starts. 
 
 And lo ! his wife, whose every feature 
 Foretells the talent of the creature ; 
 Lively and vulgar, low and pert 
 She plays, au vif, the peasant flirt, 
 And hits, without the slightest aid 
 "From Art, the saucy chamber-maid.* 
 Oh ! could a little sense controul 
 The flight of her aspiring soul ; 
 
 Could 
 
 * Format enim naiura prius nos intus ad omnem 
 Fortundrum habitum 
 
 I am sure Nature never intended Mrs. Williams for a fine 
 lady, or even for a fine gentleman, a character she sometimes 
 attempts. It is really disgraceful, that there should be no 
 actress on the Dublin stage, capable of playing the well bred 
 female characters of our best plays; poor Mrs. Williams is 
 obliged to give up a line of acting in which she is very 
 respectable, to stop, by the most ridiculous efforts, the gaps of 
 the company this is a heavy misfortune to the audience, 
 but, " en revanche," 'tis a great saving to the managers 
 good actresses demand good salaries, and Mrs. Williams is so 
 much clear gain 
 
 " Interea gustus elementa per omnia quaerunt, 
 " Nunquam animo pretiis obstantibus." 
 
 Oh ! gustus and actresses are very different things to a mau 
 of taste.'
 
 71 
 
 Could she be satisfied with all 
 The glories of the servants hall, 
 Nor e'er with daring steps presume 
 To figure in the drawing room; 
 Could she but wisely be content 
 With Mincing* and not Millamant, 
 And following nature's humble course, 
 Decline Bisarre and play Lamorce, 
 None would have guess'd that she had ne'er 
 Observ'd what life and manners were, 
 Nor ever known a circle higher 
 Than that around the green-room fire. 
 
 'Tis shame to offer to the "view, 
 This kind of " paysanne parvenue" 
 This Nell in Lady's robes array'd, 
 This hash of mistress and of maid. 
 And yet not all the blame attaches 
 To her, she naturally snatches, 
 At spangled gowns, and caps of lace, 
 To mend her figure and her face 
 But why this travesty permitted ? 
 Because we've no one better fitted ; 
 And thus in utter disregard 
 Of right and wrong, our plays are marr'd ; 
 
 An 
 
 * " Rat justitia." Mre. Williams, much to her own interest, 
 and to the great satisfaction of the public has taken my advice, 
 and I have bad the pleasure of seeing her play Flora extremely 
 well, in a comedy which, before the publication of those Epis- 
 tles, she would have marred, by assuming Violante. Poor 
 Violante, when Mrs. Daly died, might have said like another 
 deserted lady, 
 
 O miseram, cui me Violante, relinques ?
 
 72 
 
 An useful actress is disgrac'd, 
 And insult braves the public taste. 
 
 But soft the vulgar vapour clears, 
 Methinks a stranger form appears, 
 Diffusing light not burning rays 
 That strike the senses with amaze, 
 But milder beams, that cheer the eyes, 
 And please you, tho' they can't surprize. 
 
 From British Baiae's marble streets, 
 Where sickly gaiety retreats, 
 In mirth to spend its parting breath, 
 And die without a thought of death 
 Welcome, endow'd with many a grace 
 Of form, and loveliness of face, 
 And many " a quip and wanton wile," 
 And many a care-dispelling smile, 
 
 Edwin!* and tho' 'tis true, that art 
 
 Has been your tutor, not -the heart; 
 That, now and then, the mimic tone 
 Harshly subsides into your own ; 
 And that your gestures, ill according, 
 Are one half Edwin, one half Jordan; 
 
 I care 
 
 * Mrs. Edwin is, it cannot be denied, an imitator, and 
 perhaps a mannerist; but she is a good actress in a line of 
 characters which, before her arrival, were most miserably 
 mangled. Mr. Jones deserves, at least, the praise of having 
 taken one part of my advice, in engaging a representative for 
 " the well-bred females of our drama." Fas est, et ab hoste 
 doceri. But I have never been his enemy, and am even his 
 friend when I see him, as in this instance, do exactly what he 
 should.
 
 73 
 
 I care not if your humour, light 
 Yet chasten'd, charm the wintry night,* 
 Cheat care into a laugh, or gain 
 The tribute of a smile from pain 
 I care not whence you stole the href 
 Content to feel it, and admire, 
 And wish all others would pursue 
 Promethean larceny like you. 
 
 No human good's without alloy, 
 Pain treads upon the heels of joy, 
 And as Philosophers remark, 
 Each othercause, like light and dark, 
 So Heaven that dooms to equal fate 
 The Thespian and the human state, 
 With Mrs. Edwin bless'd our vows, 
 But cursed us with her lubbard spouse i 
 Yet let us spare him, for a name 
 High on the rolls of comic fame, 
 And on degeneracy take 
 Compassion, for the parent's sake, 
 Such as he sometimes feels, who views 
 Howards or Russels cleaning shoes. 
 
 d To 
 
 * " Brumales lacte ut possit producere noctes." 
 
 Ijrncm 
 
 Quem summa crcli raptum tie parte Prometheug 
 Dunavit tcrris, elemento gratulor. 
 
 Jut. 
 
 + The son of Edw'n, of (as the jest books say) faofttiors 
 memory, he plays Falstaff I shall s.iy no more alciit 
 him.
 
 74 
 
 To bear our opera's whole weight 
 The Atlas of our vocal state, 
 Who humbly thinks that HE alone 
 Can read a note, or swell a tone ; 
 Comes Phillips* writhing in grimaces, 
 And tott'ring in his girlish paces. 
 With feeble voice, yet sweet and true, 
 (Where taste has done what taste can do;) 
 But of his pipe so vain withal, 
 That, faith, he never sings at all : 
 Poor gentleman he's moved with wonder 
 That folks should think he'd act Leander,f 
 Give him, of Righi or of Braham, 
 The parts, perhaps he'll deign to play 'em ; 
 
 Then, 
 
 * Phillips has some merit as a singer; his voice is, how- 
 ever, better adapted to a room, than to a theatre and to the 
 accompaniment of a forte-piano, than to that of an orchestra 
 but he is, I am informed, so intolerably vain, that it is 
 sometimes difficult to induce him to play. Singers have ever 
 been remarked for their capriciousness, but even he whom 
 Horace ridicules for that folly, did not, as would seem, pre- 
 sume to carry it farther than his own private circle. 
 
 " Omnibus hoc vitium est cantoribus, inter amicos 
 " Utnunqnam inducant animum cantare rogati." 
 Tigellius would never, I dare swear, disappoint the public. 
 
 f Mr. Phillips is reported to have refused the part of 
 Leander in the Padlock, as below his mark; and still more 
 wonderful to relate, they had no one to supply his place, Mr. 
 Phillips being the only professed singer at present on the Irish 
 stage, except Messrs. Coyne and Lindsay, who, I suppose, 
 declined the character also. I should have been much pleased 
 to have seen either of those latter gentlemen attempt it, " it 
 would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a 
 good jest for ever."
 
 75 
 
 Then, careless of the crowd he's tiring, 
 But self applauding, self admiring, 
 With labouring chest and straining throat, 
 HeMl seem to heave the nauseous note, 
 And in cadenze and divisions, 
 Throw up his vocal evomitions. 
 
 Be not, *sweet sir, so wonderous vain, 
 Tho' heav'n bestow'd the vocal strain, 
 All, but yourself, can see you're curs'd, 
 To speak, to look, to act, the worst. 
 d 2 
 
 * At present I shall say no more of this muscadin-songstcr 
 but 
 
 Habeo alia multa quae nunc condonabitur 
 Quae proferentur post, sipeigel laedere. 
 
 I now fear Mr. Phillips's vanity is incorrigible, I am sure it 
 has become intolerable, and this is really to be lamented, as 
 his " organe," as the French call it, is very good, and as he 
 is the only male singer at present engaged at Crow-street, 
 where nevertheless they do ogeras every week.
 
 FIFTH EPISTLE. 
 
 j>^< 
 
 Tota armenta sequuntur. JEx. I*. 
 
 WHAT man, what lady shall we sing? 
 To whom now touch the pipe, or string ? 
 Whose name shall Crow-street echoes greet ? 
 Whose praise shall Temple-lane repeat ? 
 Whence blocks and brutes from ev'ry nook, 
 Follow their Orpheus, Mr. Cooke.* 
 
 Begin, and thro' the anxious throng, 
 Let each be honour'd with a song; 
 See with what emulative fear 
 They press to meet my eye or ear, 
 
 " 'Twere 
 
 * This inchoation I 1 ave translated from Horace, (Lib. T. 
 Carm. 12.) who himself borrowed it from Pindar's 2d Olymp. 
 The learned reader who consults the originals will indeed find,, 
 not Crow-street, Temple-lane, and Mr. Thomas Cooke, but 
 Pindus, risa and Orpheus; for my familar ad p'ation, how- 
 ever, I am in hopes I shall not be entirely condemn d ; in one 
 point of view, at least, I am justifi. d in calling Mr. Cooke 
 Orpheus ; all the world knows what kind of aud.encts they 
 were, that followed and admired that prince of fiddlers. 
 
 Saxa ferasque lyra movit Rhodopeius Orpheus 
 Talia et, Orpheu Hibernice, mota tua !
 
 75 
 
 " 'Twere better" hark, their gen'ral call 
 ** Be daran'd than mention'd not at all." 
 
 Come then, lead on the rear-guard, Fullam,* 
 Who with deputed truncheon rule 'em : 
 And tho' the buffo of the band, 
 Tower the second in command. 
 (Thus as old comedies record,f 
 Christophero Sly became a lord.) 
 
 Cheer up! nor look so plaguy sour, 
 I own your merit, feel your power ; 
 And from my prudent lips shall flow 
 Words as light as flakes of snow \% 
 For should I vex you, well you might 
 Repay't, by playing ev'ry night; 
 And furnish'd with most potent engines, 
 Gubbins or Scritb, take ample vengeance. 
 
 But truce with giting, let's be fair 
 Fullam's a very pleasant player; 
 In knavish craft, and testy age,|| 
 Sly mirth, and impotence of rage ; 
 
 He's 
 
 * Fullam is the acting manager, and we are not therefore to 
 b" surprised at finding his own characters in the front of every 
 bill ; it is natural, and I should be well content, but that with an 
 unhappy, tho' not uncommon fatality, his favourite parts are 
 those which he plays worst; His Scrub is execrable, and his 
 Gubbins very indifferent. 
 
 f Induction to the Taming of a Shrew. 
 
 | En-ta vi<f>a$<r iaKora j8/t*piWy. II. III. 
 
 II Vivaces agit violentus has. 
 
 Senec. H. F.
 
 79 
 
 He's still, tho' often harsh and mean, 
 The evenest actor of our scene. 
 
 Enough; fair Kniveton* now to you 
 The poet's critic song is due ; 
 Mild and attractive nature's mould 
 Ne'er form'd thee for the loud and bold 
 To rule with haughty Margaret's air, 
 To shriek Alicia's mad despair, 
 To pour with Constance, hatred's flood, 
 Or grasp the dagger steep'd in blood. 
 It mean'd thee for the gentler parts 
 Of moisten'd eyes, and melting heaits; 
 The humblef sympathetic friend, 
 Prompt to weep to bear to bend, 
 The duteous child, submissive wife, 
 And all the softer shades of life. 
 But sad reverse the face and form 
 Which art might animate and warm, 
 You clearly shew in every part, 
 Have never known the care of art. 
 And thus the choicest gifts are lost, 
 ^Torpor your calm, your mildness frost ; 
 
 Unmov'd 
 
 * Kniveton. This lady has some neglected capabilities 
 about her, but she is one ot the most inanimate actresses I 
 have ever seen. 
 
 f In heroic soubrettes, the Annas, the Cleoncs, and the Ce- 
 phisas, Mrs. Kniveton might be very respectable. We could 
 wish to S'-e her name substituted in general for that of Mrs. 
 Chalmers, who is by no means fit even for the parts she plays. 
 
 + It is very agreeable to me to be able to say, that in s-.me 
 passages of the character of Amelrosa, Mrs. Kniveton wa, 
 in exception to herself, animated and affecting.
 
 80 
 
 Unmov'd you smile, untouched you weep, 
 Your voice a dream your silence sleep. 
 
 Hargrave* the modest and the meek, 
 With humble blushes clothes his cheek ; 
 Seems scarcely bold enough to raise 
 His eyes, indifferent of praise, 
 And with demeanour mildly proud, 
 .Retires in silence from the crowd. 
 To him, indeed, one vainly looks 
 For Kemble's rival, or for Cooke's, 
 Yet oft he glads the critic eyes 
 With gleams from talent's purest skies ; 
 And draws the tear, and melts the heart 
 By careless strokes of happiest art ; 
 Oh ! si sic omnia, but alas ! 
 Those gleams like winter's sunshine pass; 
 He seems to think a smiling face 
 And upright posture a disgrace, 
 And therefore labours to present 
 His visage cross, his body bent 
 As if his sense perceived around, 
 Unsavoury smell, or dismal sound, 
 And thus we're left to wonder still 
 Who plays so well, should play so ill. 
 
 What 
 
 * I was much perplexed in forming an opinion of Mr. 
 Hargrave's dramatic merit, as he is, really, one of the most 
 uneven actors I have ever seen. Had his private character 
 been the subject of consideration, I should not have hesitated 
 a moment to say, that it is one of the most respectable I have 
 heard of.
 
 81 
 
 What fair ones next advance in rank ? 
 Davis* plump, and Stuart lank 
 O'er Davis, let us draw the veil, 
 Nor touch, e'er wounds have time to heal. 
 Let, undisturb'd by satire, flow, 
 The sacred stream of private woe, 
 Nor mortal hand to touch presume 
 The widow weeping o'er the tomb. 
 
 Poor Stuartf too, has claims for grace ; 
 Inveterate wedlock in her face, 
 
 d 3 Pleads 
 
 * Davis. I had much to say of this lady, but at this 
 moment praise would be lost to her, and censure would be 
 cruel. 
 
 The time which has elapsed since the first note was written 
 might perhaps authorize a little explanation at present, but I 
 am charitable, and shall say nothing. 
 
 f This little woman, under the name of Miss Griffiths, 
 played for some time with considerable applause, for which 
 she was indebted principally to a lively manner, and a pretty 
 shajie 
 
 Sed ]rtngvm forma percurrens iter 
 Deperdit aiiquid semper, et fulget minus 
 Nee ilia Venus est.. Hkr. Oet. 
 
 Her beauty (if it can be so called) is common to our eyes, 
 and worn so threadbare, that it no longer covers her multitude 
 of sins; and her liveliness she has completely lost with her 
 pucellage farb- it from me, to guess whence the | Iteration 
 proceeds; but it is visible, and really afflicting. 
 
 She was a tolerable Ariel, and was admired in some other 
 light characters but at this moment she is lit for nothing, 
 lut bearing Juliet's or Ophelia's pall.
 
 82 
 
 Pleads with more eloquence for pity 
 Than all the preachers of the city:* 
 Poor girl ! sufficient torments teaze you, 
 I will not blame, and cannot praise you. 
 
 What dreadful sounds assail my ear, 
 Are all the coffin-makers here ? 
 Do creaking cars bear grumbling swine? 
 
 Does grating F f fright the nine ? 
 
 CookeJ play eight instruments together, 
 Or croaking frogs foretell wet weather? 
 
 * Melius Chrysippo et Crantore, (licit. 
 
 Or 
 
 f For this gentleman's appearance on this stage, he has to 
 ^hank his own and Mr. T. Cooke's indiscretion hey will 
 understand me if they should not, Mr. Galindo may assist 
 their memories. 
 
 Ths person is heroically indgnant, at my not liking his 
 verses ! Que je suis a plaindre ! I must not on!y read bad pro- 
 ductions, but must praise them also. But that cannot be; I 
 too have an unlucky disposi ion to represent things as they are ; 
 ami I must therefore repeat, that I think th's agreeable writer's 
 verses are even worse than his friend's music. But why should 
 he complain? 1 uLslike his verses he abuses mine , are we 
 not even ? 
 
 + The were;- sufficiently-to-be extolled fiddler whom I have 
 so often mentioned. In quali'y of drum-major or master of 
 the band to the meichant's corps of volunteers, Mr. Tom 
 Cooke wears two most costly "pau'ettes, to the great incon- 
 venience of the sentinels and othc rs of his Majesty's troops, 
 who are harassed with presenting arms and making other sa- 
 lutations to the aforesaid Tom, as to a field officer. I should 
 advise Captain Stanley to regulate this matter for decency's 
 sake j and I would hint to him that for ( tonorny's sake, he 
 mi;ht turn away all the ban ! ( x "ept the mast' r, who can him- 
 self 

 
 83 
 
 Or is it Lindsay's* Irish howl? 
 Or sole-ma Coyne's pedantic growl? 
 'Tis both in dismal chaunt they join, 
 And Lindsay's echo'd back by Coyne. 
 So at the morning's early hours, 
 One jack-ass tries his tuneful powers ; 
 And quick another's dismal throat 
 Brays dreadful a responsive note, 
 It roars thro' cow-house, barn and sty, 
 Horseponds and ditches loud reply ; 
 The pigs, affrighted, scamper wild, 
 And f the vex'd mother whips her child. 
 
 Good 
 
 self play upon eight instruments together, which is quite enough ; 
 and, as I atn giving advice, I should also wish that Mr. Tom 
 Cooke would not make a practice (as they say) of retiring at 
 the end of the fourth act of the play, and abandoning the ballet 
 and farces to the guidance of his underlings. 
 
 * Lindsay. This person is the only actor of Irish charac- 
 ters now on the Irish stage, and the last we had was a Wtlch- 
 man. This is one of our practical bulls. Lindsay is, however, 
 not only the Denis Bulgruddery, and the Sir Lucius O'Trigger 
 of Dublin, but. is also, poor man! one of our principal vocal 
 performers. Mr. Coyne enacts the dunified and elegant Sir 
 Philip Blandford, and the plain Steadfast, and even sometimes 
 the mad Octavianj but he nevertheless condescends to offi- 
 ciate, " invito Apolline," as one of the tuneful tra'n. To both 
 these gentlemen, we may, without exaggi ration, apply the 
 ancient epigram, 
 
 Nt/XTixo'pa* abti flayam^opov, cXX' ?ray am 
 AiSffu'.piXsj, Qvna-y.ii x' ci,T0f yt/XTjxopa^. 
 
 AySoX. vjt. XXV. 
 
 f Et trepidx mstres presscre ad pectcra n^tos. 
 
 It.
 
 84 
 
 Good folks, I owe you no ill willj 
 Be Blandford, or O'Trigger still, 
 Act as you like, or right or wrong, 
 But ne'er again attempt a song. 
 
 But see where little Howels* stands, 
 And waves her supplicating hands, 
 She fears again to be forgotten, 
 And prays, most humbly, to be brought in ; 
 Whate'er folks say, the Bard has bowels, 
 And grants thy wishes, gentle Howels. 
 
 Lost in these humble ranks sonorous, 
 That swell a Covent-Garden chorus, 
 Thy thrilling voice, thy wond'rous taste, 
 Thy beauteous person all were waste; 
 'Till knowing Jones's generous care 
 Taught you to breathe Hibernian air; 
 And bade you lead the vocal throng, 
 Unrival'd queen of Irish song. 
 
 Thus the poor wench, who t'other day 
 Swept out her father's floor of clay, 
 
 Is 
 
 In Ireland, tbe custom, in cases of vexation and terror, is 
 different from that of the Romans, as those who know any 
 thing of the Irish cottager's manners can testify. I hope I 
 have, however, preserved the spirit of the famous passage I 
 allude to. 
 
 * This young lady was omitted inthefirst erli'.ion; whether 
 she will be satisfied with the mention made of her, I cmnot 
 gay. To characterize that, which had no character) was im- 
 possible ;
 
 85 
 
 Is now, by fortune's whim, an't please you, 
 *La Principessa di Borghese. 
 
 Is there no follower of Russel,. 
 No friend to democratic bustle, 
 No writer of the Northern Star, 
 No poet of f Marengo's war, 
 No rival of O'Quigly's fame, 
 No hater of the regal name, 
 To free the drama from a thing 
 So useless and so dull as King?! 
 
 And 
 
 possible; and to give force and variety to what is neither im- 
 pressive or versatile, is beyond my powers. 
 
 * The sister of the renowned Corsican, who now trembles 
 on the throne of France, becoming, by the lucky death of a 
 rapacious husband, the mistress of a large fortune, she thought 
 she could not lay it out to greater advantage, than in getting, 
 a little quality into her family j and she accordingly bought her- 
 self a husband in II generose ed excellentissimo Principe di 
 Borghese. 
 
 f I am, at last, by great diligence of research, enabled to 
 
 say, that, of the battle of Marengo, the words were by F , 
 
 the music by Cooke, the action by Galindo. Triformis 
 
 Chinuera !! 
 
 * Horace's jest is much to the same purpose: . 
 
 Per magnos, Brute, deos te 
 
 Oro, qui Regcs consucsti tollere, cur non 
 Ilunc Regetn jugulas? onerum hoc, mihi credo, tuo- 
 rum est.
 
 M 
 
 And now comes every nameless name. 
 The Public torture and the shame, 
 Who, nightly, as the curtains rise, 
 Offend our ears, and scare our eyes ; 
 Kings, footmen, senators and hags, 
 In ermine, livery, or rags. 
 Thick, in terrific groupes, they mix, 
 Like ghosts upon the banks of Styx;* 
 But so self-satisfied, 'tis plain 
 That they inflict, not suffer pain : 
 Low and conceited, pert and dull, 
 Each empty brain, and leaden scull, 
 Each cross-made shape, and gorgon face, 
 Lays claims to beauty, sense, and grace; 
 Claims let them make th' indignant muse 
 Stoops not t' admit them, or refuse ; 
 She gives them neither praise or blame,f 
 And to the tnoonl consigns each name, 
 (Where connoisseurs collections show 
 Of all that's lost on earth below;) 
 
 There, 
 
 * Hue omnis turba ad ripas eflusa ruebat, 
 Matres atq; viri, defunctaque corpora vita 
 Magnanimum heroum, pueri, irinuptacque puellce. 
 
 S. VL 
 
 The resemblance lies, not in their numbers or appearances 
 alone, but in the " defuncta corpora vita" also. 
 
 f Questo misero modo 
 
 Tengon l'anime triste di coloro 
 
 Che visser sanza infamia e sanza Iodo. 
 
 Dant. Infeiin. C. III. 
 
 X Vide Orl. Fimios.
 
 87 
 
 There, in dark cases, let them sit, 
 
 With O's* skill, and V's wit, 
 
 D's virtue, A's youth,. 
 
 S's good temper, D's truth,. 
 
 P's pity, M's pence, 
 
 R's time, and T's sense. 
 
 * Whether these letters be initial or final, whether they 
 signify names, or indeed whether they mean any thing, I must 
 be excused from disclosing. 
 
 If they have no signification, why should I betray my own 
 nonsense ? and, if they be typical, it belongs to the Public to 
 make the appl cation. 
 
 The editors of a contemptible monthly pamphlet, called 
 Ireland's Looking Glass, or some such thing, have had the 
 audacity to publish a list of most respectable names, of which, 
 they say, these letters are the initials ; to this assertion I have 
 but one answer to make, it is false that these letters have a 
 meaning I confess, but I do not helieve that any one has yet 
 perfectly discovered it.
 
 SIXTH EPISTLE. 
 
 Tk iixol ytlvaJs-xn t<* sp>" efTv ttturxoTrm, fipuo-tt avia. f*ttf- 
 TupuvTa to?? SjMjTj Xoyw;. 
 
 Xenoph. Cyr. lib. VIII. 
 
 VXOOD natur'd muse, that from the sky 
 Breathe on encomiastic Pye, 
 And deck his periodic lays 
 With honey'd trope and flowery phrase ; 
 Deign, on your suppliant bard, to shower 
 The gentlest influence of your power. 
 And teach my voice to celebrate 
 The glories of the Thespian state ; 
 *'Tis my last work my last request, 
 This labour o'er, from verse I rest 
 Besides my lays to Jones belong, 
 What muse to Jones denies a song? 
 
 She 
 
 * Extremum hunc Arethusa mihi concede laborem, 
 Pauca meo Gallo 
 
 p eget quis carmina Gallo. 
 
 Vikg. Eci. X.
 
 90 
 
 She hears me not in vain I pray, 
 Fair Eulogy is far away, 
 Teaching young Preachers* to disclose 
 The beauties of poetic prose ; 
 And guiding laureate bards to try 
 Flights of prosaic poetry. 
 
 But lo! uncall'd, from routs and drums 
 Dame Censure to my closet comes; 
 Of journals floats her patchwork gown, 
 Post, Courier, Chronicle and Sun, 
 And, to supply the 'kerchief's ends, 
 A Cobbett from her side depends ; 
 Instead of attar, round her head 
 Steams of tea their incense shed 
 Her ears two figur'd serpents deck,. 
 And beads of black-beans twine he. - r.ccV, . 
 
 Wreath'd 
 
 * Thb is not a random rhyme. I exceedingly lament the 
 foolish and indecent style of oratory, wh : ch so often makes the 
 sacred chair, the " tinsel throne of glittering nonsense j" the 
 serious disposition of thought, which our admirable church- 
 service is so calculated to inspire, is either put to shame or to 
 flight, by the wild and figured declamation, which, as a critic, 
 I despise, and as a Christian detest. I would recommend it to 
 those reverend young Poets, to indulge their taste for the 
 Muses, in reading Cowper's descriptbn of a petit maitre clergy- 
 man, and to recollect the advice of Boileau : 
 
 Et, fabuleux Chretiens, n'allons point, dans, nos songes, 
 Du Dieu de verite faire un Diea de mensonges. 
 
 To some Readers, this note would require an apology ; such 
 Readers I have no desire to please^ and shall make none.
 
 91 
 
 Wreath'd o'er her forehead nettles nod, 
 In place of fan, a wormwood rod 
 She bears ; and, hanging from her breast, 
 Churchill in miniature express'd. 
 
 " Write on/' she cries, " obey my power j 
 *' These are my subjects, this my hour: 
 " And the wide empire of the nine 
 * O'er bards, and plays, and players, is mine. 
 
 " Time was, that ignorance was thought, 
 " In would-be w its, a kind of fault ; 
 " And 'twas suppos'd, to common sense 
 " A critic should have some pretence ; 
 " That poets should, at least, proceed in 
 " A course of spelling and of reading; 
 " Nor was it deem'd superfluous quite, 
 " That writers should know how to write. 
 
 " How different are those golden times, 
 " When every living creature rhymes, 
 " And Phcebus pours a general ray 
 " Of poetry, as well as day. 
 " When the street-walking muse of Snaggs* 
 " Would tread the stage in brogues and rags, 
 
 " And, 
 
 * The well-bred and ingenious author of " The Irish 
 Nieces," a comedy. As a specimen of hs powers of versifi- 
 cation, is it unfair to quote the two first lines of his prologue, 
 which this Menander means for rhyme f 
 
 " The soul to virtue is by precept raov'd, 
 " And, by example, loyal Public good." 
 
 I confess
 
 92 
 
 " And, in a sable buckram dress'd, 
 " Creeps the Melpomene of West.* 
 " When Joe'sf poetic streamlet flows, 
 " A boundary ditch 'twixt verse and prose, 
 
 "And 
 
 I confess that nothing can be more entertaining than Mr. 
 Snagg's accusation of" a^iXoxaXia" against Mr. Jones, for not 
 bringing forward this exquisite drama. 
 
 * I should most humbly advise parson West to employ his 
 pen in the transcription of some of South's, Tillotson's, or even 
 Blair's Sermons, for the use of his parishioners. It would be, 
 I venture to believe, a task more fitted to his profession as well 
 as his talents, than writing blank prose, which he calls blank 
 verse. He has an undoubted right to set asleep in church all 
 persons whom he may find there; but this privilege should not 
 be extended to the theatre. One at a time, Mr. West! if you 
 please ! How truly has Ovid described this great tragic parson, 
 and his great comic rival, Mr. Snagjjs, by his 
 
 * Somni pingues etfrigidus humor." 
 
 Amor. Lib. I. 
 
 f- Lest my censure of this gentleman's writing should be 
 thought too severe, I subjoin the following sentence from one 
 of the answers to the Familiar Epistles, which will shew us in 
 what estimation his verses are held, even by his own party. 
 " Though personally unacquainted with this gentleman, I am 
 happy to offer him a tribute (though trifling) of that respect to 
 which his character so fully entitles him. He is not a good 
 poet. 1 " (T. T. Con vers. p. 39.) A tribute of respect with a ven- 
 geance. I wonder some othar of his respectful defenders did not 
 quote of hint Voltaire's character of Abbe de St. Pierre, whom, 
 to say the truth, he much resembles. " II ecrivait d'une 
 maniere a ne rendre person jaloux, son style u'a aucun agre- 
 ment; il etoit peu lu: et ceux mme qui le lisaient se moquaient 
 de lui, et le traitaient de bon-homme." It is but fair, however, 
 to add, that the author of the Thespiad is of a widely different 
 
 opinion,
 
 93 
 
 " Aad to its sullen channel draws 
 
 " From this side mud, from that side straws. 
 
 " When " much bemus'd in beer," 
 
 " Is songster, play-wright, pamphleteer 
 " Cerberean bard!* with triple strain> 
 ** He guards, by howling, Jones's reign> 
 " Yet licks, like Pluto's dog, the feet 
 '* Of those that ofter aught to eat. 
 
 " When B f from his Blazing Star 
 
 " Shakes folly, petulance and war, 
 
 = 
 
 And 
 
 pinion, and launches out into the most enthusiastic praises of 
 the goodness of Joe's head and heart. This is a complete proof, 
 
 that the Joe who wrote the Thespiad is not Joe A , who, 
 
 though he so violently applauded his own plays, yet is still too 
 modest to print his own praises. 
 
 * " Cerberus hsec ingens latratu regna trifauci 
 
 " Personat cui vates 
 
 *' Melle soporatam, et medlcatis frugibus offam 
 " Objicit, i!le fame rabida tria guttura pandens, 
 Corripit objectam," &c. &c. JEn. VI. 420. 
 
 f This person is really one (if I may be permitted to pun 
 upon the brewing trade) of the " genus vaium," which is much 
 more than, without a pun, I could venture to say of the author 
 of the Blazing Star, and the sixth number of the Philanthropist; 
 a periodical paper, which, to the great amazement of the whole 
 town, and the great mortification of the printer, Mr. Parry, 
 dragged out its ix'stence even to the seventh number. If this 
 
 same B , as I have heard, be the author of the Theatrical 
 
 Tears, though 1 shall confess him to be on a level with the rest 
 of the learned clerks who sing Mr. Jones's responses, I must 
 assert that, in this work, he is vast'y above fiimseff. I would, 
 nevertheless, advise Mr. Jones, and the players, not to employ 
 
 him
 
 94 
 
 " And as his blundering jests miscarry, 
 " With loss of change perplexes Parry.* 
 
 " Or yet when he from Alma's bowers, 
 " Sheds tears in such infectious showers, 
 " As pitying taste and sense must weep 
 " To read, and sobbing sink to sleep. 
 " Go on! sweet youth !f if heav'n allows 
 " Thy lengthening life to bless our vows, 
 " Perhaps the wond'ring Avorld shall see, 
 " A new J A in thee." 
 
 " Of yore, too, there were bounds between 
 " The tragic and the comic scene ; 
 " And play'rs, which ever they embrac'd, 
 n Still kept the unities^ of taste. 
 
 " Smirking 
 
 him again, and to remember, if they can, the words of 
 Homer, which Nerva uttered in his last moments to Trajan. 
 
 " TiVtjav Aavaoj ifxa &xxjva <rWt osXeo-n." 
 
 His Tears might indeed bring down my arrows, and 
 " Quicquid delirat plectuntur Achivi." 
 
 * " That from its horrid hair 
 
 " Shakes pestilence and war 
 
 " And with the fear of change 
 " Perplexes monarchs. " 
 
 f " Puer ! si qua fata aspera rumpas, 
 
 " Tu Marcellus cris." 
 
 VlftG. 
 
 | Since the days of the universal Garrick, every si roller 
 thinks he can play every thine ; tragedy, comedy, farce, and 
 
 pantomime.
 
 93 
 
 " Smirking features tripping gait 
 
 " Ne'er troubled the severer state; 
 
 " Nor hollow voice, nor formal stalk 
 
 " E'er trespass'*] on the comic walk, 
 
 " Each kept its humour and its place, 
 
 u Peculiar gait, and natural face. 
 
 " But now confounded, melted, mix'd, 
 
 H No frontier barrier betwixt, 
 
 " Our actors different changes try, 
 
 ** The * tragic grin, the comic cry. 
 
 " Each lace so sever 'd into halves, 
 
 " That one side weeps while t'other laughs: 
 
 "Thus 
 
 pantomime. Actors seem now to think it quite disgraceful to 
 be excellent in one line alone : 
 
 " The mouse that is content with one poor hole, 
 " Can never be a mouse of any soul." 
 
 * In this respect the audience frequently imitates them I 
 have seldom seen more merry faces than at a German tragedy 
 a German tragedy, is a kind of " Tragedy for warm wea- 
 ther," and a German comedy also approaches so nearly to the 
 standard of that celebrated piece, that there is no longer any 
 distinction between the species of the drama : to the modern, 
 we may apply what Tacitus says of the ancient Germans, 
 
 " Genus spectaculorum unum et in omni catu itfem." 1 can 
 
 easily imagine, that many a German Dramatist has completed 
 his piece, before he resolves whether it should be a Tragedy or 
 Comedy. These gentlemen seem to possess the power, that 
 Mercury, in Plautiis, humorously ascribes to himself, when 
 he observed the Spectators vexed (as modern Audiences often 
 are) at finding that their comedy was in truth a tragedy. 
 
 Quid contraxistis frontem ? quia tragoediam 
 Dixi futuram hanc, Deus sum, commutavero 
 Eandem hanc si voltis ex tragoedia 
 Comoediam Prol. in Amphitruonem.
 
 96 
 
 " Thus Irish weddings oft display 
 " Mix'd scenes of frolic and of fray; 
 " And at their funerals and wakes, 
 " Close by the coffin laughter shakes. 
 " Or, as was seen in *Egypt's feasts, 
 " A Skeleton t' amuse the guests, 
 " Upon whose front appear'd a label, 
 
 " Death's near, be merry while you're able. 
 
 " Hence (- Shakespeare's uncongenial reign, 
 " Our scenic democrats disdain, 
 " From Rowe and Congreve turn, and wooe, 
 " Reynolds thy chains, or thine Kotzebue,J 
 
 And 
 
 * Mos olim, et misere epulis spectacula dira. 
 
 Si i/. Itai. 
 
 He who may seek amusement at our theatre will, I fear, 
 often have reason to fancy himself at the Egyptian banquet 
 for though his entertainment will be, in some respects, toler- 
 able, he may be certain of seeing and hearing, ever and anon, 
 one or other of those terrific objects, who like the skeleton, 
 attempt to excite pleasure by expressions the most dreary, 
 and appearances the most hideous; but in these cases, he 
 must even make up Lis mind, as the proverb goes " comer 
 del pan que el diabolo amasa j" for it seems all complaint is 
 vain, unless it is vei y public, and (as some folks would have us 
 think) dangerous unless very private. I am of the former opi- 
 nion j the latter is not worth thinking of. 
 
 \ I am glad to see that Shakespeare seems to be coming 
 into fashion again at Crow-street ; for this, to do him justice, 
 I fancy we are to thank Mr. Holman. " Macte iu ilia vir- 
 tute." 
 
 + Whenever it shall please his great and good friends, the 
 potentates of Germany, to send the excellent Kotzebue to the 
 world of spirits, I make no doubt that Shakespeare will ad- 
 
 dresa
 
 97 
 
 " And for the finer walks unfit 
 " Of genuine tenderness and wit, 
 ** They in such dramas hope to tower, 
 " As suit their heteroclite power. 
 " In tragedies* that offer ranting 
 " For spirit, and for pathos canting, 
 ** Blustering for sorrow, oaths for sighs, 
 * For vigour, rage and blasphemies : 
 
 e Where 
 
 dress him, as Menander did Philemon. Of the fame of Me- 
 nander no person is ignorant, and if we may judge of his works 
 by the imitations which we have of them, his great reputation 
 was not above his merits. Of Philemon, the Kotzebue of his 
 day, we only know, that he was the rival and conqueror of 
 Monander, who, with the amiable frankness and hone st confi- 
 dence of genius, asked his successful competitor " Quaeso, 
 " Philemo, bona venia, die mihi, quuin me vincis non eru- 
 " bescis! " 
 
 A. G. Noct. Att XVII. c. 4. 
 
 * " Audiences are now drawn together by the translated 
 trash of some foreign novelty they wait the appearance of a 
 ghost or a goblin ; they hope to be roused from their weary 
 lethargy, into hysterical laughter, or hysterical tears, by the 
 farcical or the horrid they swallow with gaping wonder, the 
 eccentric flights, the profane rants, the illuminated morality, 
 the bombastic diction of imported patchwork from their Ger- 
 man favourites." Preston's Reflec. on the Germ. Style, p. 59. 
 Every one, who is acquainted with German literature, well 
 knows, that not one of their dramas (Germania nttos horrida 
 parturit Foetus) deserves to be excepted from this general cen- 
 sure. The English reader I refer to all the plays of Schiller 
 and Kotzebue, which have been translated into our language. 
 He will nit find one piece ui.disgraced by vice or folly: seine, 
 indeed, excel in folly, others in vice, but in general " they are 
 as like one another as halfpence, each seeming monstrous 'til 
 its fellow come to match it." As vot' like it.
 
 9* 
 
 " Where passions either creep or fly, 
 ** Meanly low, or madly high, 
 " And bedlam nature stalks* or flutters 
 " Either on stilts or in the gutters. 
 "In comedies, where pun and hit 
 " Supply the scarcity of wit, 
 
 (As 
 
 * What would Longinus have thought of snch passion and 
 sublimity as the following passages (taken at random from 
 Schiller) exhibit: 
 
 " Now let the storm rage, tho' it should swell me up to 
 the throat.'" Robbers. 
 
 " 0. Moor. lam no spirit but living as thou art oh! 
 life of wretchedness. 
 
 " Y. Moor. What, wast thou not buried ? 
 
 " 0. Moor. That is, a dead hound lies in the grave of my 
 father." Robbers. 
 
 " All-judging God ! do as thou wilt sacrifice this young 
 person; that your devils may shout for joy, and your good 
 angels abandon you: " Cabal and Love. 
 
 " What, talk you of nobility in Genoa ? (indignantly) let 
 them all throw their ancestry and honours into the scale, and 
 one hair from the white beard of my old uncle shall make it 
 kick the beam." Fiesco. 
 
 Of these effusions, for the faithful translation of which I 
 am accountable, Longinus would say, as he does of those of 
 the xcater-poet of his day, iromra tivoj , t oit, ap^t vb^vtoc i;i. 
 Sec. xxxii. or he would have referred th< m iax^eia Tin rxr 
 Xiynv, to a certain drunkenness of expression, which was some- 
 times objected even to Plato.
 
 99 
 
 " (As in a famine folks must eat 
 
 " Bread made of beans instead of wheat,) 
 
 " And all the incident consists 
 
 " In active heels,* and brawny fists, 
 
 " Where polish'd heroes nothing say 
 
 " But,f " Zounds, keep moving, what's to pay?" 
 
 " And for his plot the Author trusts 
 
 " To mending coats, % and breaking busts. 
 
 " In operas, || where lovers come 
 
 " To dulcet sound of bass and drum, 
 
 " And 
 
 * " The public appetite began to be sated with nonscii.-r, 
 which now required to be reinforced with practical jokes, and 
 corporal activity." Preston's Refi.ec. p. 65. 
 
 f Those are specimens of the phraseology of our new comic 
 school, taken from "A Cure for the Heart-ache," and some 
 other farrago of folly, of which I happily forget every thing 
 but the cant word that I have quoted. 
 
 * On the important incidents of a tailor's mending his own 
 coat, and a sharper breaking a cracked china figure, two mo- 
 dern pieces entirely turn. 
 
 || Here let me say a word or two on the state of our ' corps 
 d'opera' (opera inanis.'J. The three female singers, Misses 
 Howells and Davidson, and Mrs. Stewart, are on every account 
 incapable of playing even secondary parts, and indeed seem to 
 me to be only fit to lengthen the processon in Alphonso, or 
 swell the choruses of the Castle Spectre. We have no professed 
 male singer but Mr. Phillips, awl thus the whole of our musical 
 department depends on his slender pipe. Now as it happens 
 that, from some cause or other, this gentleman cannot conve- 
 niently play all the parts, both male and female, of an opera, 
 on one night, it is evident that it were unreasonable to expect 
 any musical entertainment at the Dublin theatre. But that 
 
 we
 
 100 
 
 " And damsels thrill their tender lay to 
 " Trombone and trumpet obligato, 
 
 Where 
 
 we should not have to complain of a total want of this species 
 of amusement, recourse has been had to a most brilliant expe- 
 dient, which, for its singular ingenuity, I shall relate in detail : 
 Some one had heard, that a distressed country company had 
 once played Hamlet with the omission of Hamlet's character, 
 and it therefore occurred to him, that a musical entertainment, 
 with the music omitted, would be, in the present posture of af- 
 fairs, the most satisfactory extrication which could be devised. 
 The scheme was, it seems, adopted, and the Battle of Hex- 
 ham had the honour to be selected for the experiment. The 
 aforesaid Misses H. and D. were to sing all the choruses, and 
 Mr. Phillips's name appeared in the front of the bills as prin- 
 cipal in the glees. Night after night did Mr. Phillips's non- 
 appearance disappoint the weary audiences, till at last Messrs. 
 Jeffcr}' and Dyke, who usually enact waiters, senators, and 
 such folk, kindly consented to make themselves ridiculous, by 
 sing'n^r the first and bass parts, in such time and tune as it 
 should please God. So far all was prosperous. But here ano- 
 ther unforeseen accident occurred, for it was by some means or 
 other discovered, that ihejirst and third would be useless with- 
 out a second. Necessity, says the proverb, is the mother of 
 invention, and necessity took a violoncello-teacher, dressed 
 him in a fine brown jerkin, equipped him, by the assistance of 
 a burned cork, with most terrific moustachios, and finally 
 tinned him out upon the stage a finished second, in whom 
 nothing was forgotten or omitted, but a voice to sing and after 
 this manner the musical drama of the Battle of Hexham was said 
 and sung by his Majesty's servants !!! " ex uno disce omnes." 
 
 I find, from the admonitions of the Kitchen-stuff Gazette, 
 that 1 have been, in the foregoing note, guilty of a most wicked 
 and diabolical mistake, by inserting the name of Mr. Dyke in- 
 stead of that Of Mr. Denman, who really sang the third, and 
 who, to use Taratalla's own words, " is one of the best and 
 most scientific bass singers living, on or off the stage." " O 
 
 Terque
 
 101 
 
 " Where harmony's accordant choir 
 
 " Is lost in crash of wood and wire, 
 
 " And he o'er all his peers is proudest, 
 
 " Who roars the longest and the loudest."* 
 
 " Such are your poets, players, and plays ; 
 " The joy and wonder of our days ; 
 
 e 3 " Hail ! 
 
 Terque quaterque beatns !" I am ' au desespoir' at the disgrace 
 into which this error has thrown me ; Dyke or Denman, Den- 
 man or Dyke, I beg pardon of either, of both, or neither of 
 the gentleman, as they please ; I have an equal respect for 
 each, and, though I have not the happiness of their acquaint- 
 ance, they are, I am ready to believe, 
 
 " Arcades ambo 
 
 " Et cantare pares, "- 
 
 while Mistyllus and Taratalla are the " respondere parati." 
 
 * Pausanias, in his account of the Cadmean family, (Beet, 
 c. 5,) says, that Harmony was the daughter of Mars and Venus. 
 Could I suspect any of our composers of being ' litterulis gr&cis 
 imbutus,' I should guess that, from this passage, he derived the 
 notion of accompanying love- songs with horns, triangles, ket- 
 tle-drums, and other martial instruments so that now-a-days 
 
 De nos orchestres, l'harmonie 
 
 N'est que du bruit et du fracas j 
 Pour peindre la melancholie 
 
 On offre le bruit des combats ; 
 Pour peindre la paix, 1'innocence, 
 
 On prend tromfoonne et clarionej 
 Pour accompagner la romance, 
 
 JJientot on prendra du canon .'!! ti as an i.
 
 102 
 
 " Hail ! * happy plays, and poets, and play'rs, 
 
 " f Of Jones's praise triumphant heirs, 
 
 " In whom his accurate discerning 
 
 " Beholds all genius, wit and learning 
 
 " Thus, my Lord Peter, + it is said, 
 
 " Saw all things in a loaf of bread, 
 
 " And, wisely arguing every cut on, 
 
 " Prov'd it veal, ven'son, beef and mutton." 
 
 " If Jones Lord Peter's whim pursue 
 " The town with \\3fartiii's eye will view, 
 
 " Nor 
 
 * " Hail, Bards triumphant, born m happier days, 
 
 " Immortal heirs of universal praise." Pope. 
 
 f Mr. Jones is accustomed in every company, where he 
 finds an opportunity, to descant on the merit of his theatre, 
 &.C &c. in a set formula of speech, not unlike that in which 
 the ingenious Mr. Jenkinson used to lecture, concerning " The 
 Cosmogony, or creation of the world," &c. &c. the usual 
 topics of Mr. Jones's orations are, Mrs. Jordan, and how, 
 about a dozen years ago, she set out from Dublin, on a low- 
 backed car, with a young child in her arms; Mr. Phillips, 
 and his engagement at Covent Garden, and the future fame of 
 the aforesaid Phillips, master Betty, and the crowds he brings 
 in London, and the empty benches to which he played here, 
 and the stupidity and bad taste of Dublin audiences, in respect 
 of the premises, and on all other occasions; together with sun- 
 dry shrewd hints of his own well-deserving, and certain sly 
 cuts at the total ignorance of Greek, which is visible through- 
 out every page of the Familiar Epistles. 
 
 + " Bread," says Lord Peter, " is the staff of life, in which 
 is contained, inclusive, the quintessence o r mutton, beef, veal, 
 venison, &c. &c." Talk of a Tub, Sect. 4. 
 
 || Martin, as my readers know, was of an op'nion in some 
 
 decree
 
 103 
 
 " Nor will it, at his mental treat, 
 
 " Believe that crusts are wine and meat." 
 
 " Let him not, vainly, hope to ride 
 " In safety, o'er the Public tide, 
 " To buffet every gale that blows, 
 " And sweep the sea of all his foes, 
 " While in his puny fleet* are reckon'd 
 " First-rates none, but one o' th* second, 
 
 And 
 
 degree varying from that of his brother; he indeed is reported 
 to have thought, that a loaf was neither more nor less than a 
 loaf. Poor man!!? 
 
 * The following specimen of a theatrical Lloyd's List, will 
 give a tolerable recapitulation of my opinions of the Crow- 
 street company : 
 
 Moor's-kead, Jan. 23, 1804. 
 
 " Admiral Jones, in spite of the very hard weather, still 
 continues to keep his station off the Bagnio slip. If the Peter- 
 street squadron should attempt to put to sea, we are confident 
 the gallant admiral will give a good account of them. His 
 force is as follows : 
 
 Ships. 
 
 Guns. 
 
 Commanders. 
 
 Montague, 
 
 74 
 
 Talbot. 
 
 Veteran, 
 
 55 
 
 Hitchcock .(Mrs.) 
 
 Charon, 
 
 44 
 
 Vice Ad. Fullam. 
 
 Assurance, 
 
 44 
 
 R. Jones. 
 
 Gorgon, 
 
 44 
 
 Galindo (Mrs.) 
 
 L' Entreprenante, 
 
 44 
 
 Walstein. 
 
 Le Modeste, 
 
 38 
 
 Hargrave. 
 
 Alligator, 
 
 36. 
 
 Williams. 
 
 Tartar, 
 
 32 
 
 "Williams (Mrs ) 
 
 Fairy, 
 
 16 
 
 Stewart (Mrs.) 
 
 Bittern, 
 
 16 
 
 Lindsay. 
 
 Bon r, 
 
 12 
 
 Coyne. 
 
 Rem;i'ns in port, La Musette (en flute) Phillips/ 
 
 We
 
 104 
 
 " And all the rest his bold defenders, 
 
 " Are frigates, luggers, hulks, and tenders." 
 
 " Nor think because the Thespian realm, 
 " Of which he holds the guiding helm, 
 " Bows at his feet, obeys his nod, 
 " And owns great Psapho* is a God ; 
 " That all mankind to think must cease, 
 " Slaves to his pleasure or caprice." 
 
 " Nor, should he please to entertain 
 A score of dunces in his train, 
 " By ev'ry Grub-street art to drown, 
 " The voice and wishes of the town, 
 *' That, ev'ry pen to write must cease, 
 " Save at his pleasure or caprice. 
 
 "No! no! Were every journal bought, 
 " To hum to sleep the public thought ; 
 " Some eye will wake to watch his course, 
 " Some tongue, which neither fraud nor force, 
 
 " Can 
 
 " We are sorry to observe, that the Favourite Creswell 
 " and the Insolent Stewart, have parted company in the late 
 " breeze?' 
 
 Tanta mole viri turritis puppibus instant ! ! ! 
 
 If the foregoing scale be correct, he has none either of the 
 first or second rates, and but one of the third. 
 
 * Psapho, as JElian tells us, was a Libyan, to whom the 
 savages of Africa paid divine honours, because he taught cer- 
 tain birds to sing " Psapho is a God."
 
 105 
 
 ** Can lull, shall roll the critic storm, 
 " And thunder in his ears " reform." 
 
 She said and vanished, thro' my rooro> 
 Vapours arose of acrid fume. 
 Thus when a ghost his mission ends, 
 And thro' the yawning trap descends, 
 The yawning trap in clouds expires, 
 Sulphureous smell of brimstone fires. 
 
 Dear Jones, I'm glad the beldame's fled, 
 Rest she for ever with the dead ; 
 Ne'er may her features, sour and cramp, 
 * ' Visit the glimpses of our lamp, 
 Making night hideous;' ne'er again, 
 With bitter taunt and cynic mien, 
 May she invade the sacred bound 
 That fences bards and players round ; 
 
 But let us lay this worse than ghost, 
 And send her to the red-sea coast, 
 In the due forms of magicf school, 
 And exorcise the fiend by rule. 
 
 First 
 
 * Ri visit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, 
 Making night hideous. 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 f The anxiety which so many persons exhibited for the dis- 
 covery of my name, surprised me at first; but I now find, 
 many of them did so out of mere orthodoxy, and in obedi- 
 ence to the " editto del. S. officio," an extract of which I 
 shall add as a specimen of the enlightened liberality of the year 
 1802. 
 
 " Tutte
 
 106 
 
 First let us grasp with daring hand,* 
 Th' Avonian talismanic wand, 
 And summon here, on their allegiance, 
 The powers that pay to it obedience ; 
 Hecatef dark, and Ariel | light, 
 And merry Robin, sportive sprite; 
 Titania,|| Oberon and all 
 That hear the Fairy monarch's call, , 
 Theirs be the region of the airs 
 And constant watch etherial, theirs. 
 
 Then 
 
 " Tutte persone cos ecclesiastiche come secolare, debbono 
 revelare e notificare tntti e ciascuno de quelli de' quali sappono 
 e abbiano avuto o avranno notizia, che si siano ingeriti o s'in- 
 geriscano in far experiment de negromanzia, o di qualsivoglia 
 altra sorte di magia! ! !" 
 
 Dat. Dal S. Officio di Pizaro questo da 25 Aprile 1802. 
 
 Should not one think, that 1802 was put, by an error of the 
 Press, for 1302 ? 
 
 Sebastian Michaelis was not much madder than " S. Tomaso 
 Francisco Itoncalli, maestro di S. Teologia" the author, or ra- 
 ther the editor of this liberal proclamation, in the nineteenth 
 century poor human nature ! 
 
 * The learned Reader will perceive some incongruities in this 
 exorcism, queje me garderai bkn d'annoncer aux ignorans. 
 
 f Macbeth. 
 
 % Tempest 
 
 Midsum. NighVs Dream. 
 
 || A procession of priests chaunting high mass, is some- 
 times of wonderful efficacy against ghosts and goblins, who, 
 whatever profession they might have followed when alive, 
 
 have,
 
 107 
 
 Then comes the ministerial train* 
 Chaunting the Muses' sacred strain, 
 In robes of ceremony drest, 
 With sacerdotal stole and vest, 
 Each Actor holding Shakespeare's page, 
 The priests and rubrick of the stage. 
 Such as our Thespian faith requires, 
 Not begging monks and wandering friars. 
 
 Then in a burning chauldron's blaze, f 
 Throw Reynolds's and Morton's plays, 
 Each page of Allingham's and Cobbe's, 
 And heavy Boaden's clumsy jobs ; 
 Cherry's^ sad mess of mirth and moans, 
 Insipid hash of Murphy's bones. 
 
 The 
 
 have, after their corporeal death, as great an aversion to 
 high mass and all Church ceremonies, as any Calvinist in 
 Scotland. 
 
 * Midsum. Night's Dream. 
 
 f Les exorcistes imposerent silence aux diables; on jetta 
 dans Ie feu les partes les uns apres les autres. Hist, du proces 
 d'Urb. Grand. This liberal and enlightened operation was 
 performed in presence of some of the chief men of the Church 
 and of the Law, in the year 1631, in the now atheist land of 
 France. 
 
 X I very much prefer even Reynolds to Mr. Cherry; the 
 former is original, and an oddity; the latter mawkish, and 
 an imitator; nor can I guess for what merit his piece was 
 transplanted from London to our stage, unless that, which 
 the Spaniards say of wives, be true of the Soldier's daughter, 
 " que con los dados se tomavan -contando los dinaros que 
 
 " trahen,
 
 108 
 
 The insane verse and madder prose 
 Of Lewis, Coleman's puppet-shows 
 And all the trash the Germans send here 
 Thro' Thomson, Noeden, Plumtree, Render, 
 Be all on the buzaglo plac'd, 
 Pacts with the demon of false taste. 
 
 Next gather in a chrystal bowl,* 
 The tears down Pity's cheeks that roll, 
 That from the riven bosom flow, 
 Touch'd by the wand of tragic woe j 
 Scatter the blessed drops around, 
 And sanctify the holy ground ; 
 No envious fiends their footsteps set 
 On earth that Pity's tear has wet. 
 
 *Tis done the solemn rites are paid, 
 And Censure's in the ocean laid. 
 
 And now, from fair Augusta's towers 
 Collect, dear Jones, your scenic powers; 
 
 Not 
 
 " tralien, y no considerando las virtudes, que tienen," and 
 in respect even of " los dinaros," I fancy the fingers of 
 Mr. Jones's advisers did not judge correctly. It was pro- 
 posed by Jack Tradesall, in the Flapper, to act a sermon at 
 the Private Theatre; this undoubtedly gave Mr. Cherry the 
 idea of the homily which Ferret preaches towards the end of 
 this play. But did this most revrrend author and actor never 
 hear of Horace's opinion " neque si quis scribat sermoni 
 propriora, putes hunc esse Poetam." 
 
 * Of the supposed effects of lustration no one can be ignorant 
 1 hope ours is conducted dans (esfornws.
 
 109 
 
 Not mere allies* that play a score 
 
 Of nights, " and then are heard no more," 
 
 That tor a moment shine, and then 
 
 To darkness give us up again; 
 
 Not mummers fit to please the gallery, 
 
 Collected at a five poundf salary; 
 
 Not Poucets to say parts by rote, 
 
 Not singers who can't sing a note. 
 
 Drive from your stage all foreign nonsense, 
 
 And shows that only please at one sense 
 
 f Trash 
 
 * I had rather never see a good actor on our stage than see 
 him only for a few nights, which only serve to throw the rest 
 of the season in a deeper shade 
 
 Et obtenta dtnsantur nocte tenebrae. 
 
 Nor should it be forgotten, that these strangers are birds of 
 prey as well as of passage. 
 
 f Imperavit (Marcus Antoninus) etiam scenicas donationes, 
 jubens ut quinos aureos scenici acciperent. Jul. Cap. in Vit. 
 M. A. Mr. Jones, in this point, imitates the Roman Em- 
 peror with a scrupulous accuracy, as he never gives a 
 higher salary than 51. per week. In London they give 101. 
 151. and 201. Surely it would be (as tradesmen say) worth his 
 while to give two or three good actors here, as much as they get 
 elsewhere. 
 
 J I am not one of those rigid fanatics who dislike all kinds 
 of childish gaiety, and therefore, I say nothing about Mr. 
 Jones's Ballets and the four interesting little girls that by 
 to dance in them. I own I should be better pleased that the 
 stage was not made absolutely a dancing school, and a place of 
 practice for embi yo Parisots ; but as the children are always 
 neatly dressed and generally contrive to keep time, in the 
 present state of the scenic art, we have no reason to-comp!ain. 
 
 Let
 
 110 
 
 Trash that usurps the comic name, 
 Mad farce, and maudlin melodraine. 
 Throw off the trammels of the mode, 
 A shifting yet a pond'rous load ; 
 Nor let your native sense and taste 
 By others' follies be disgraced, 
 Catch timid merit as it springs, 
 Give to your lib'ral soul* full wings. 
 The stage's golden age restore, 
 And Censure shall return no more.f 
 
 Let me add a strange anecdote which I have heard, though 1 
 can hardly believe : A person with a very good sounding 
 honest Irish name, something like M'Donough, or M'Swiney, 
 or O'Flanagan, was desirous of setting up in this city as a 
 dancing master, and obtaining an engagement as ballet dancer 
 at the Theatre " What with such a name ? impossible ! my 
 good friend, go, go and get anotker." The Milesian was wise 
 enough to take the hint, and Signor (I shall not mention his 
 new appellation) afterwards danced ' mutato nomine' with 
 great success at Crow- street, and now teaches, as I am told, 
 m the highest circles in Dublin. 
 
 * Mr. Jones's liberality is a favourite topic of expatiation 
 amongst his friends, and I believe not unjustly ; but I entreat 
 him to exercise it in procuring a few good Players for the 
 Theatre Royal ; an expedient of generosity which he has not 
 yet practised to any considerable extent. 
 
 f Gentle Reader, who hast travelled these six heavy stages 
 through with me, accept my thanks for the patience, with 
 which you have borne the roughness of the road, and the mis- 
 takes and wanderings of our course, " beggar that I am, I am 
 poor even in thanks," and have no other reward to offer, than, 
 that I assure you, I shall not again, if I can avoid it, tres- 
 pass on your kindness and good nature valete, and, if you 
 can, plaudiie. 
 
 FINIS.
 
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