mob, and telling falsehoods with as much ef frontery as any of the members of the honourable House of Commons. They promise the people that they will lower the price of bread, beer, &c. that they will accept of no place, that they will make all the old women bishops, &c. It is easy to conceive to what effect this little electioneering masquerade might be turned by the English Aristophanes. He himself played the part of Major Sturgeon, one of the most original caricatures on the British stage.

Foote waged everlasting war against antiquaries and virtuosi. In his farce entitled "Taste," there is a humorous trait of satire on the rage for collecting antiques. Some one observes to the pseudo-baron Groningen, that his antique bust has no nose; upon which the baron replies, with prodigious contempt for the ignorance of the remark, that the mutilation constitutes its whole value in the eye of a connoisseur, and that for his part he would not give a single shilling for it if it were perfect.

"The Minor" contains a collection of caricatures worthy to be placed beside the original creations of Hogarth's pencil. The scene in which Shift passes himself off for Mr. Smirk, would provoke the laughter of the laird of Monkbarns himself.

Foote determined to ridicule the taste for senti.. mental comedy, which was in his time so prevalent. He announced a new kind of entertainment at his

theatre in the Haymarket, "The primitive Puppet-show," a drama, dedicated to the lovers of

tears, was to be represented by wooden puppets, and it attracted such crowds to the theatre, that even the orchestra was filled. The musicians performed the overture behind the scenes, and Foote advancing to the front of the stage, delivered an address which presents an admirable specimen of his style and manner. He attacked the Lord Chamberlain himself, while he affected to be merely giving an account of the worthy Mr. Punch, so much regretted by Tom Jones, and always so heartily welcomed as the diverting friend of our childhood.

LETTER XLI.

TO MADAME GUIZOT.

If the territory of the tragic muse has not of late been so unproductive in England as that of her smiling sister, that circumstance must be attributed to the labours of a female writer, and of three divines. It may naturally be supposed that the sex of Miss Joanna Baillie, and the functions of the Rev. Messrs. Maturin, Millman, and Croly, must debar them from a very intimate acquaintance with the Green Room. The consequence is, that their dramatic works, like the tragedies of some of their contemporaries, belong rather to general literature than to the drama. Mr. Mill

man's pieces have been acted several times, whether he would or not, and Mr. Maturin has incurred the censure of his superiors for having consented to have his plays performed. Two tragedies, by Miss Baillie, have been represented and withdrawn from the stage.

Miss Baillie is a Scotch lady, and a niece of the two Hunters so celebrated in the medical world. Her brother, Dr. Baillie, is one of the principal physicians in London. As people are always curious to know the age of a celebrated female, and as my indiscretion cannot now be attended with any disagreeable consequences, I may mention that Miss Baillie was born in the year 1764. The first volume of her dramatic works, preceded by an introduction, was published anonymously in 1798. The second volume, which she dedicated to her brother, appeared with her name. Miss Baillie fancied she had laid the foundation of a new theory, but productions of a similar kind may be found in the literature of every nation in Europe.

That dramatic performance should have become the favourite amusement of every nation, is attributed by Miss Baillie to the sympathy and curiosity which men naturally feel in studying the passions of their fellow-creatures. Writers of

tragedy have generally failed in the delineation of great characters, placed in the most trying situations in life. Shakspeare alone is excepted by Miss Baillie; and she seems not very ready to admit even this exception, for it is conveyed in a

note, and that only when she fancies she has converted her readers to her own opinion. She asserts, that the great error of dramatic poets has been in allowing themselves to be led away by their exclusive admiration of the works of the old writers, and preferring the ornaments of poetry to the imitation of nature; and there is certainly a great deal of truth in this remark, as long as we bear in mind that Miss Baillie applies it to her own countrymen as well as to us. Our critics, I think, will very readily agree with her, that since the age of Louis XIV. our writers, with the exception of those few whose works may be held as models of dramatic composition, have neglected the inexhaustible variety of nature, and re-produced, from generation to generation, the same characters and the same situations. The pompous and solemn gravity, which they appear to have deemed indispensable to the dignity of tragedy, has almost entirely excluded from their works those less striking, though more characteristic touches of nature, which so completely develope the real state of the mind. To delineate man in his moments of parade and action, is to afford but an imperfect view of him. Heroes, equally magnanimous in prosperity and adversity, and ever eloquent in the cause of virtue; warriors, as proud, irritable, and vindictive, as they are generous, brave, and disinterested; lovers, full of devotedness, tenderness, and sentiment; tyrants, as cowardly as cruel; and traitors, in whom perfidy and wickedness are instinctive-all are cast in one

regular and uniform mould. The faithful imitation of their models, and an attention to the beauties of style, and the dignity of subject, has, it is true, often led these writers to enrich their works with sublime imagery, noble thoughts, and generous sentiments; but in their eagerness to excel in these accessories of tragedy, which are alike common to every other form of composition, they have neglected the beauties which are more exclusively its own. The men whom tragedy calls into action are placed in an elevated sphere, and exposed to such great trials as few have to encounter in the ordinary course of existence. As examples applicable to ourselves, they cannot affect us much, and the only moral advantage we can derive from these dramatic pictures is, that they afford us a more extensive view of human nature, and inspire us with the admiration of virtue, or the hatred of vice. But if they be not represented in such a manner as to produce the effect of real and natural characters, the lessons we receive from them cannot be more impressive than those we gather from the pages of the poet or the moralist. Miss Baillie is of opinion that the principal object of tragedy, is to exhibit the human heart in its most undisguised state, namely, while under the influence of those violent and inherent passions, which, though apparently unexcited by external circumstances, gradually get entire possession of the soul, and destroy every amiable feeling. Dramatic poets have, generally, employed the passions only to