painted modern manners with great force of colouring, as well as truth of delineation, and given to the ludicrous features of life all the heightenings of wit, humour, and satire.

Richardson, no less classical, created a new species of fiction, which may be called the Epic of Civil Life; as it exhibits, in an extended and artfully constructed fable, and in a variety of strongly marked characters, under the influence of different passions, and engaged in different pursuits, the beauty and dignity of virtue, and the meanness and deformity of vice, without any ludicrous circumstance, or display of warlike exploits.

The principal productions of these authors, under the well-known names of Tom Jones, Roderick Random, Sir Charles Grandison, Clarissa', and Amelia, seemed for a time wholly to occupy the attention, and even to turn the heads of the younger part of the nation. But the histories of Robertson and Hume appeared, and romances were no longer read. A new taste was introduced. The lovers of mere amusement found, that real incidents, properly selected and disposed, setting aside the idea of utility, and real characters delineated with truth and force, can more strongly engage both the mind and heart, than any fabulous narrative. This taste, which has since given birth to many other elegant historical productions, fortunately for English literature, continues to gain ground.

9. Lovelace, the principal male character in this celebrated romance, is evidently a copy of Row's Lothario, in the Fair Penitent. This Dr. Johnson owns, but adds, that the imitator" has excelled his original in the moral effect of the fiction. Lothario, with gaiety whieh cannot be hated, and bravery which cannot be despised, retains too much of the reader's kindness. It was in the power of Richardson alone to teach us at once esteem and detestation.” But Dr. Beattie, another formidable critic, and the friend of Dr. Johnson, is of a very different opinion. “Richardson's Lovelace," says he, "whom the reader ought to abominate for his crimes, is adorned with youth, beauty, eloquence, wit, and every intellectual and bodily accomplishment; is there not then reason to apprehend some readers will be more inclined to admire the gay profligate, than to fear his punishment?" So. contentious a science is criticism!-and so little reference have the opi. nions of the learned, in matters of taste, to any common standard!

I must

I must now carry forward the progress of arts and of manners, and of those branches of polite literature that are most intimately connected with both.

The premature and unexpected death of queen Anne, was friendly to the protestant succession: for it is certain she intended, as I have had occasion to show, that her brother should fill the British throne. What might have been the character of the reign of James III. it is impossible decidedly to say, as he was never invested with the administration. But there is great reason to believe, from his superstitious bigotry, that his government would neither have been favourable to civil nor religious liberty. The reign of George I. was favourable to both, though little indulgent to genius. Unacquainted with the beauties of our language, and utterly destitute of taste, like most of his countrymen in that age, this prince paid no attention to literature or the liberal arts. Literature, however, made vigorous shoots by the help of former culture and soil; but manners experienced a woeful decline, and the arts made no advance.

In consequence of the timid, but prudent policy of that reign, the martial spirit was in a manner extinguished in England. The heads of the tory faction kept at a distance from court, as in the reign of William: and truth obliges me to declare, that the tories have always been the most munificent patrons of genius, as well as the most accomplished gentlemen in the kingdom. The ministers of George I. were whigs. Many of them were little better than money-brokers, and the South-Sea scheme made them stock-jobbers. The rapid revolution of property occasioned by that scheme; the number of ancient families ruined, and of the new ones raised to opulence, broke down the distinction of ranks, and gave rise to a general profusion, as well as to an utter disregard of decency and respect.

The corrupt administration of sir Robert Walpole, in the early part of the reign of George II. when every man's virtue was supposed to have its price, contributed still farther to dissolve the manners and principles of the

nation;

nation; while the thriving state of manufactures, and a vast influx of money by trade, produced such a deluge of intemperance among the common people, that the parliament was obliged to interpose its authority, in order to restrain the inordinate use of spiritous liquors. And after the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, military force was often necessary to suppress the licentiousness of riot; which under pretence of want, occasioned by dearth of provisions, but really in the wantonness of abundance, long distracted the whole kingdom.

The war which was begun in 1755, united all hearts and all hands in opposing the common enemy. In the course of that glorious war, at first so unpropitious, the relaxation of manners totally disappeared. The national spirit recovered its tone. Wisdom was found in the cabinet, and ability displayed itself both in the senate and the field. Military ardour rose to heroism, and public virtue to the utmost height of patriotism. And although the peace of Paris did not procure, us all the advantages we had reason to expect, it yet left the British empire great and flourishing; with trade considerably augmented; territory immensely extended; and a numerous body of brave and industrious people, employed in supplying with manufactures the demands of commerce, or occupied in the labours of husbandry.

In times of such great national prosperity, it might be expected that public spectacles would be numerous and splendid, and that the liberal arts, though neglected by government, would be encouraged by the public, and patronised by opulent individuals. This was literally the case. Beside a magnificent Italian opera, the capital supported two English theatres, and those theatres were well supplied with new pieces, the profits of which amply recompensed the labour of their authors.

The comedies of Steele were followed by those of Cibber, who has given us, in his Careless Husband, a finished picture of polite life. The formal style, and sententious morality of Addison's Cato, in a smaller or greater degree, distinguish all the tragedies of Thompson.

VOL. V.

3 P

The

The Tragedies of Southern and Young are more impassioned, though in other respects no less faulty. Southern, who was intimately acquainted with the human breast, has some exquisitely pathetic scenes. But his stories are too uniformly distressing; and Oroonoko, his best piece, is interlarded with low comedy. Isabella, written in the reign of George I. has fewer faults, and fewer, yet many beauties. It is a mournful tale indeed.— Young's Revenge has great merit. The fable is well constructed, the style is easy and animating; the characters are strongly marked, and the poetic spirit is supported throughout the piece. But it has few of the genuine charms of nature, and too many of those terrible graces, which have drawn upon our stage the imputation of barbarism.

The history of the stage is a subject of great philosophical curiosity; as it is, in every nation, intimately connected with the history of manners. Even from the mode of playing in different ages, there is something to be gathered beyond the gratification of idle curiosity. Our tragic actors, before the appearance of Garrick, seemed to have had a very imperfect notion of their business. As they could have little opportunity to observe the motions, and still less to hear the discourse of royal personages, especially on great and momentous subjects, or while under the influence of strong passions, they had recourse to imagination; and gave to all the speeches of such exalted characters, and by habit to those of every character, an inarticulate deep-toned monotony; which had small resemblance to the human voice, accompanied with a strutting stateliness of gesture, that was altogether preternatural, but which they mistook for majesty. To acquire only the tread of the stage was a work of years.

But no sooner did Garrick set his foot upon the theatre than this difficulty vanished. Having a sound judgment, a just taste, and keen sensibility, with a discernment so acute as to enable him to look into the inmost recesses of the heart; a marking countenance; an eye full of lustre a fine ear; a musical and articulate voice,

with uncommon power to modulate it to every tone of passion, he rose at once to the height of his profession and taught the sympathising spectators, that kings and heroes were men, and spoke, and moved, and felt, like the rest of their species. Other players followed his easy and natural manner, to the great advantage of theatrical representation.

This new style of acting introduced a new taste in writing. Instead of the rant and fustian of Dryden and Lee, which the old players delighted to mouth, Garrick and his disciples displayed their bewitching power of moving the passions chiefly in the pathetic and awful scenes of Shakspeare and Otway, to which they drew more general admiration. And Aaron Hill, a great promoter of natural playing, having adapted to the English stage several of the elegant and interesting tragedies of Voltaire, gave variety to theatrical exhibitions. In the Zara and the Merope he was particularly successful. Originals were composed in the same just taste. Among these, we still see with pleasure the Gamester, Douglas, and Barbarossa. The Elfrida and Caractacus of Mason, and the Medea of Glover, are equally pregnant with nature and passion. Written in imitation of the Greek drama, and worthy of the Athenian stage, they have all been represented on that of London with applause; but they have not yet made us converts to the ancient manner.

The genius of Garrick as an actor, was not confined to tragedy. In many parts of comedy he was no less excellent; and his taste, and his situation as a manager, enabled him to draw to light several neglected pieces of great merit. The comic muse, however, was backward in her favours for a time. We had few new comedies of any merit till Hoadly produced the Suspicious Husband, and Foote those inimitable sketches of real life, which were so long the delight of the town, and have justly gained him the name of the English Aristophanes. At length Colman, in the Jealous Wife and Clandestine Marriage, united the humour of Plautus to the

elegance