man mind. Racine is fo very much superior to those who said the fame things he did; only because he said them better. Corneille is never truly great, but when his expreffions are equal. to his thoughts. Remember this precept of Mr. Boileau:

Et qui tout ce qu'il dit facile à retenir,

De fon ouvrage en vous laiffe un long fouvenir.*

This is what is wanting in a great many dramatic works, which by the art of an actor and the voice and figure of an actress, have met with fuccefs on our theatres. How many ill wrote plays have had more representations than Cinna + or Britannicus? but who has ever got by heart a line of any of these flimfy performances, while every body remembers Cinna and Britannicus? It was in vain that the Regulus of Par don drew tears from us by fome affecting fituations; the piece, and all fuch pieces, are utterly defpifed, though the authors fhould trumpet their own praise in their prefaces."

I believe, my lord, you are going to ask how it came about that fuch judicious critics should give me leave to mention love in a tragedy which bears the title of Junius Brutus, and to mix this paffion with the austere virtue of a Roman fenate, and the politics of an ambassador?

*Let every thing you write be fo natural that it will be cafily imprinted on the mind.

+ One of Corneille's fineft tragedies, by many looked upon as his master-piece.

A tragedy of Racine's.

Our nation is upbraided with having enervat ed the theatre by too much love; and the Eng lish deserve the fame reproach for very near a century past; for you have always borrowed part of our vices and our fashions. But will you give me leave to mention my opinion on this fubject?

To infist on having love in every tragedy seems to me to be an effeminate taste: To banish it from all, would be, I think, a very unreafon able piece of ill-humour.

The

The theatre, either tragic or comic, is the living picture of the paffions of mankind. ambition of a prince is reprefented in a tragedy; and in a comedy private vanity is rendered ridi culous. In one, you laugh at the coquetry and intrigues of a citizen's wife, and in the other you lament the unhappy paffion of a Phaedra. In the fame manner, love diverts you in a ro mance, and transports you in Virgil's Dido.

Love is not a more effential fault in a tragedy, than it is in the Æneid. It can be only cenfured when improperly introduced, or handled with

out art.

The Greeks feldom ventured this paffion on the theatre of Athens; because, in the first place, their tragedies having been originally founded on dreadful fubjects, the minds of the fpectators were accustomed to this kind of fpectacles. In the second place, the women lived a much more retired life than ours do, fo, that the language of love was not then, as it is now, the fubject of every converfation; and the poets therefore were lefs inclined to introduce a paffi

on which is the most difficult of all to be accurately described, and nicely handled; as it requires the greatest caution, and is fufceptible of the greateft delicacies.

A third reafon which feems to me to be of fome weight, is, that there were then no actreffes; the women's parts were performed by men, whose faces were covered with masks. Love must have neceffarily appeared ridiculous in their mouths.

.

It is quite the contrary in London and Paris. I muft own, that authors would have little understood their intereft, or little known their au dience's inclinations, if they had never made an Oldfield, a Duclos, or a le Couvreur + speak but of ambition or politics.

The misfortune is, that love in our theatrical heroes is often nothing more than gallantry; and in yours, it fometimes runs into mere debauche ry.

In our Alcibiades, a play yery well conducted, but poorly wrote, and therefore little esteemed, these bad verses spoke in an enchanting tone by the Æsop of the last age were long admired:

Ah! lorfque pénétré d'un amour veritable,
En gemiffant aux peids d'un objet adorable,

* The two most famous actreffes that Fance has poffeffed, before the Dumefnil and Clairon of the present times, who are equal, if not fuperior, to those of any age or nation.

Supposed to be Baron, who is talked of in France, as probably posterity will in England talk of Mr. Garrick.

J'ai connu, dans fes yeaux timides ou diftraits, Que mes foins de fon cœur ont pu troubler la paix, l'aveu fecret d'une ardeur mutuelle;

Que par

La mienue a pris encore une force nouvelle ;

Dans ces momens fi doux, j'ai cent fois eprouvé,
Qu'un mortel peut goûter un bonheur achevé*.

In your Venice preferved, old Renaud wants to ravish the wife of Jaffier, and the complains of it in terms not very decent, saying, that he came to her unbuttoned, &c.

That love might be worthy of the tragic scene, it should become the necessary knot of the play, and not be brought in to fill up the vacancies of your tragedies and ours, which are, both, too long; it must be a paffion truly tragic, confidered as a weakness, and refifted by remorse. Either love must be the cause of crimes and misfortunes, in order to fhew the danger of fuch a paffion, or virtue must get the better of it, to prove that it is not irresistible. Otherwise it will be more properly adapted to eclogues and to comedy

It is you, my lord, who are to determine

* With tender paffion, when my breast was warm'd, And foftly fighing at the fair one's feet,

By the dear language of her eyes I found
My love had raised new conflicts in her breast;
When, by the wifh'd confeffion of her flame,
The ardor I expreffed received new strength;
In these sweet moments, loving and beloved,
I often felt that man is fometimes blefs'd
With happiness complete.

whether I have fulfilled any of these conditions; but above all things, I beg your friends will not judge of the taste of genius of our nation by this effay, and the tragedy that I fend you. I am perhaps one of those who apply to litera ture in France with the leaft fuccefs; and if the opinions, which I here fubmit to your judg ment, be disapproved of, I alone am to bear the blame.