Others there are whose malice we'd prevent;
Such who watch plays with scurrilous intent
To mark out who by characters are meant.
And though no perfect likeness they can trace,
Yet each pretends to know the copied face.
These with false glosses feed their own ill nature,
And turn to libel what was meant a satire.
May such malicious fops this fortune find,
To think themselves alone the fools designed:
If any are so arrogantly vain,

To think they singly can support a scene,
And furnish fool enough to entertain.

For well the learned and the judicious know
That satire scorns to stoop so meanly low,
As any one abstracted fop to show.

For, as when painters form a matchless face,

They from each fair one catch some different grace; And shining features in one portrait blend,

To which no single beauty must pretend;

So poets oft do in one piece expose

Whole belles-assemblees of coquettes and beaux.

THE MOURNING BRIDE.

-Neque enim lex æquior ulla,

Quam necis artifices arte perire sua.-OVID, de Arte Amandi.1

1 For there is no law more just than for the plotters of murder to perish by their own designs.

HE Mourning Bride is the only tragedy that issued from the pen of Congreve, and he cannot be congratulated upon his effort. The author is essentially a painter of contemporary life and manners, and when he treads upon the classic ground of historical drama his grace and lightness of step desert him. Instead of the wit and epigram of his comedies we have here dialogue which is turgid and bombastic, a plot not uninteresting, but lacking in probability, and love scenes too artificial to be infused with real passion, and which consequently fail to move us. It is one of those plays which reads better than it acts. In this play several couplets, which have since become proverbial, are to be met with. It was produced in 1697, and at once became a favourite, though it has long since been banished from the stage.

HAT high station which by your birth you hold above the people, exacts from every one, as a duty, whatever honours they are capable of paying to your Royal Highness but that more exalted place to which your virtues have raised you above the rest of princes, makes the tribute of our admiration and praise rather a choice more immediately preventing that duty. The public gratitude is ever founded on a public benefit; and what is universally blessed, is always a universal blessing. Thus from yourself we derive the offerings which we bring; and that incense which arises to your name, only returns to its original, and but naturally requites the parent of its being.

From hence it is that this poem, constituted on a moral whose end is to recommend and to encourage virtue, of consequence has recourse to your Royal Highness's patronage; aspiring to cast itself beneath your feet, and declining approbation, till you shall condescend to own it, and vouchsafe to shine upon it as on a creature of your influence.

It is from the example of princes that virtue becomes a fashion in the people; for even they who are averse to instruction will yet be fond of imitation.

But there are multitudes who never can have means nor opportunities of so near an access, as to partake of the benefit of such examples. And to these Tragedy, which distinguishes itself from the vulgar poetry by the dignity of

1 Afterwards Queen Anne.

its characters, may be of use and information. For they who are at that distance from original greatness as to be deprived of the happiness of contemplating the perfections and real excellences of your Royal Highness's person in your court, may yet behold some small sketches and imagings of the virtues of your mind, abstracted and represented on the theatre.

Thus poets are instructed, and instruct; not alone by precepts which persuade, but also by examples which illustrate. Thus is delight interwoven with instruction; when not only virtue is prescribed, but also represented.

But if we are delighted with the liveliness of a feigned representation of great and good persons and their actions, how must we be charmed with beholding the persons themselves! If one or two excelling qualities, barely touched in the single action and small compass of a play, can warm an audience, with a concern and regard even for the seeming success and prosperity of the actor: with what zeal must the hearts of all be filled for the continued and increasing happiness of those who are the true and living instances of elevated and persisting virtue ! Even the vicious themselves must have a secret veneration for those peculiar graces and endowments which are daily so eminently conspicuous in your Royal Highness; and, though repining, feel a pleasure which, in spite of envy, they perforce approve.

If in this piece, humbly offered to your Royal Highness, there shall appear the resemblance of any of those many excellences which you so promiscuously possess, to be drawn so as to merit your least approbation, it has the end and accomplishment of its design. And however imperfect it may be in the whole, through the inexperience or incapacity of the author, yet, if there is so much as to convince your Royal Highness, that a play may be with industry so disposed (in spite of the licentious practice of the modern theatre) as to become sometimes an innocent, and not unprofitable entertainment; it will abundantly gratify the ambition, and recompense the endeavours of your Royal Highness's most obedient, and most humbly devoted servant,

WILLIAM CONGREVE.