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the village to the other, I was returning home quite out of spirits, when I descryed my ci-detant acquaintance Mr. Alderman Marrowfat, justice of the peace, sitting at the door of his country box, between two headless statues, which had been originally designed to represent Appollo and Diana, and enjoying his evening pipe. I again determined to hazard another refusal, and to make one last attempt in spite of the dust which encircled me in such thick columns, that I expected to fall a martyr to the cause. I approached him with the utmost humility; and opened my battery with all possible skill; which he received with a mixture of attention and contempt. When I was again silent, after puffing two or three fumes of tobacco in my face, and scratching his bald pate, (which on account of the heat he had disencumbered from its wig) he cooly inquired, what reward he should gain for his charity? I told him the gratitude of his fellowcreatures, and the delightful pleasure arising from the consciousness of having done a generous action; "moreover, (added I, intending like all great orators to speak to his passions) you will secure your orchard from the boys of whom you complain." Even this argument was vain, for having finished his pipe, and deliberately thrown away the ashes: "As to gratitude, generosity,

and such like, says he, why I never think of them out of Church, and the rest fall under my dog Jowler's care-but if I might speak a word in return, I would most heartily advise you to mind your own business, or, take my word for it, you will never be worth a single farthing." "At this moment Jowler, hearing his own name, came running in with the remainder of his master's wig, which he had been most diligently tearing to pieces during our conversation. Fearing to be reckoned an accomplice, I effected my escape as speedily as possible, and left Jowler to settle the busines with his charitable master.

"This, Mr. Grildrig, is the charity and benevolence of the world; and in this manner do the greater portion of the opulent withhold those blessings from the poor, which Providence has entrusted to their care for nobler purposes than the selfish gratification of evil desires, and corrupt appetites.

The insertion of this letter will confer a fayour upon

Your Reader and Admirer,

H. H.

THE

MINIATURE,

NUMB. XVI.

MONDAY, August 7, 1804.'

Spectatum admissi risum teneatis, amici?

HOR. A. P. 5.

Whose laughter does not such a sight provoke?

As I had proposed in a former Essay to examine more particularly the influence of fashion with regard to the dramatical compositions of the present day; I have now taken the opportunity of accomplishing my intention, by dedicating this paper to the investigation of the stage in its modern state, and of theatrical exhibitions in general. The theatre undoubtedly has a very extensive influence over the manners of a nation; and the avidity which all ranks of men have, at all periods resorted to dramatical representations,

sufficiently evinces that national improvement in every respect might easily become the result of such popular entertainments, if governed by the principles of virtue and morality. But this alas! is no longer the object of dramatick writers; virtue is now exploded as a worthless acquisition, while fashionable vice tricked out and garnished with every superficial ornament and dazzling allurement stalks with exultation through the applauding theatre.

I am induced in the first place to consider the nature and attributes of the Tragic Muse; since she has through all ages deservedly acquired the principal reverence and dignities; but I must confess, that it seems rather difficult to recognize the sober conductress of the ancient drama under her present tinsel ornaments, as all her original simplicity is lost beneath superficial decorations and empty pomp, which sufficiently mark the altered taste of the times. Our eyes may be dazzled by a rapid succession of triumphs, battles, chains, tempests, and moon-light adventures; but this pageantry does not affect the heart. At the moment we acknowledge an artificial pleasure, and are lost in the bustle and tumultuous variety; but when we return, and reflect in private upon what we have enjoyed, we are astonished at find

ing so very little matter to reflect upon, and what little we may at length discover hardly repays the trouble of consideration.

Some decided and established rules have ever regulated the tragedians of former days; such as a regular and exact management of the plot, consistency in the characters, a preservation of some little appearance of probability throughout the incidents, with a constant attention to morality and virtue. Our writers on the contrary soar above their low-minded predecessors, and spurn the shackles which they suffered to restrain their poetical excursions. A decided plot is no longer accounted necessary towards a perfect composi tion, in which the scenes are frequently stitched together in so loose a manner, as to have scarcely any evident relation one to the other. A rustic will deliver out sentiments which would do honour to any hero; and the most abstruse questions in philosophy or even theology are confidently decided by an humble confidant. Probability is rather scouted as a failing, than admired as a perfection; as the following ingenious contrivance for stifling a conspiracy on the moment, and rescuing the poet from an awkward predicament clearly exemplifies. At the critical period when a party of conspirators are rushing on to murder

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