the same style, but inferior to the author of the West Indian, and the Wheel of Fortune. Reynolds and Morton have administered to the bad taste for melo-dramatic composition. This taste was introduced by the imitations of Kotzebue, which became extremely attractive. Misanthropy and Repentance, or, as it is called on the English stage, The Stranger, drew forth as many tears in London as in Paris. Kotzebue was the false god, who was worshipped by all the English dramatists, except John Tobin, who remained the inflexible opponent of German sentimentality. But Tobin, who, had he lived, would probably have revived the romantic comedy, was buried in obscurity during his brief existence, and the illustrious Sheridan himself transplanted Pizarro to the English stage. It is true that Sheridan indirectly protested against foreign importation, by enriching the English drama with one of its best comedies, namely, the School for Scandal.

Sheridan, as a dramatic author, has sometimes been called by his countrymen the second Congreve. In France we should be inclined to place him in a still higher rank, by comparing him to Beaumarchais, who is so spirited and happy in the unexpected repartees of his dialogue. Sheridan has this advantage over Congreve, that he does not make his characters say witty things, merely for the pleasure of saying them. In general, the sallies of Congreve only excite surprise; but Sheridan, who is more natural in his originality, amuses, interests, and produces a higher comic

effect. But I
But I may consider Sheridan among the
authors of the present day, whose productions I
shall judge of from seeing them acted.

If I may be permitted to draw a conclusion from this hasty sketch, I would say that the dramatic literature of England is decidedly inferior to ours. I cannot agree in opinion with those British critics who affirm, that in the tragedies of Corneille, Racine, and Voltaire, genius is cramped by judgment and art. Art was a natural inspiration in Racine. I again repeat that he is perfect when judged according to his system; but unfortunately, he made the French Melpomene move at too slow and measured a pace, assume too uniform an air of dignity, and speak in language too argumentative and pompous. Racine's heroes are fine Greek statues, always grandly draped, and worthy of the majestic temples of Athens. His successors fell into the error of forming their characters on the models of those demi-gods of a wholly poetic age. Certainly French tragedy night have been of a more national and popular character; but such as it is, the criticisms of M. Schlegel will not convince us that the rich and varied poetry of our tragic authors does not amply atone for their defects. They have also been successful in the natural delineation of character and passion. The grossest errors of Shakspeare would be easily corrected by a scholar; they are not worth consideration. In the knowledge of human nature, Shakspeare excels every other writer. He is Eschylus and Aristophanes, Dante and Rabe

lais combined. Yet, in spite of all this, it must be confessed that he has not written a single tragedy worthy of the name.

In comedy, more particularly, our superiority over the English is undeniable. We should seek in vain in English comedy, for the light and graceful gaiety, delicate irony, shrewdness of observation, and ingenious tact which distinguish even our second-rate authors, whose dramas always present agreeable pictures of French society. These qualities are very rarely met with, even in the English comedies of the reign of Charles II. which were written by the half French courtiers of the time, such as Etherege, Killigrew, Wicherley, Buckingham, &c. In the higher class of comedy, Molière alone is worth all the comic writers of England. Our great dramatist is less various, but not less profound and natural, than Shakspeare. He is not understood by Schlegel; yet British pride willingly bends to pay the tribute of admiration to Molière, and asserts that his genius is English rather than French. However, the comic muse of England is rich in original creations. The English romantic comedies are often powerfully interesting; but they may be compared to fancy pictures, for there is more imagination than truth in the characters and language, and they have sometimes too poetic a turn. True English comedy, that is to say, the comedy of Queen Anne's reign, is characterized by an ingenious complication of intrigue, and a flow of wit in the dialogue. The more refined writers of

the last and the present generation have treated love purely as a sentiment; and they have sometimes happily brought into play the dolci durreze e placide repulse of that passion, which is so highly dramatic in the variety of its caprices and emotions. But we must not expect to find in English comedy the exquisite gallantry which exists only in French manners. English gaiety frequently betrays a touch of misanthropy, and resembles sarcasm rather than delicate pleasantry. Many of the striking characters of the English drama, are merely personal satires, and have consequently an air of caricature. The highly boasted humour of the English is, for the most part, merely vulgar gaiety, which stands in lieu of wit among a nation whose manners are devoid of elegance. English humour produces a burst of laughter, while French wit rather provokes a smile. Humour combines extravagant ideas and burlesque images-it overcharges its portraits, and exaggerates the absurdity which wit only half reveals. Wit often produces its effect by a single word; it excites less surprise, but it affords more lasting pleasure. The shafts of wit may be aimed without any derogation of dignity; but humour identifies itself with its victim. It is like a buffoon who degrades himself by the choice of parts, with which he must necessarily be associated.

The English drama also affords representations of individual whimsicality, and the ludicrous forms of fantastic disposition. These original pictures, which must not be confounded with ca

ricatures, are daily becoming less numerous in English society. Civilization is gradually banishing that affected humour which furnished Shakspeare, Ben Jonson, and even more modern writers, with so many extravagant but natural characters.*

But I must now suspend my remarks on plays. until I visit the theatres, where I shall, of course, have an opportunity of judging of the most recent productions of the English stage. I think, Sir, you cannot but admit, that I have made sufficient concessions to your rigidly classic taste; yet I nevertheless feel it necessary to entreat your indulgence in favour of a young author, who, though fully aware of the dexterity with which you can ward off a jest, has ventured to give you the surname of the fossil man of literature.

LETTER XXIX.

TO GENERAL BEAUVAIS.

MY DEAR GENERAL,

I AM about to give you an account of my visit to Drury Lane Theatre.

But you must first

* There is no treatise on English rhetoric which does not contain a definition of humour. Professor Millar, of Glasgow, who has written a long dissertation on English gaiety, appears to me to have defined it more satisfactorily than any previous writer. I have to regret that I did not read Professor Millar's chapter on tragedy until after I had finished this letter.