evil must be ascribed in great measure to the exclusive patents with which our theatres are privileged, which insure to the proprietor crouded houses, at the loss of all the legitimate purposes of theatrical exhibition, which like all other monopolies are extremely pernicious to the general interest, and which render a comparison between the public amusements of London and Paris, so extremely disadvantageous to the metropolis of England. It has however been said that, if the theatres were multiplied, as we have not a sufficient number of good plays for more than one or two, the consequences would be a speedy satiety in the public mind with regard to all the dramas most worthy notice, and the necessity of having recourse to performances, which a sound judgment would otherwise reject. If there is any truth in this observation, made by the experienced though not disinterested Cibber, we are between two dangers, the magnitude of one or two theatres and the competition of a greater number. There is probably a middle course; and a theatre small enough to give advantage to the best plays, and devoted solely to them, sufficiently patronized by the court to render it fashionable, though opened only once or

twice a week, would perhaps be attended with benefit to the public taste.

After having been so diffuse upon the comedies of others, it may now be expected that I should say something of my own. The first I have republished chiefly with a view of stripping the principal character of a false glare, which could only have been thrown around him by the careless and rash hand of youth. The second, which is entirely new, is not, as far as I know, liable to any moral exception, nor can it be censured, I think, for many of the faults I have pointed out in the preceding pages. My aim at least was to exhibit a dialogue that should be unaffected and yet not altogether trifling, characters that should not be solitary individuals, a plot that should not be intricate, incidents that should not be forced or bold, and allusions without indelicacy or grossnes. The character of O'Neale is certainly not copied from Mr. Sheridan's Sir Lucius O'Trigger, and for that reason, perhaps, I may appear to many to stand in need of an apology. Sir Lucius, however, perhaps too boldly sketched for any time, is now at all events the creature of other days, and is as rarely to be found in Ireland as squire Western

in this country. My object was to form a contrast between an Irishman and an Englishman, as they frequently appear in the higher ranks of life, the one of an ardent temper breaking through the ordinary forms of society, and betrayed into slight difficulties, the other in the same proportion sinking under these forms, and through subservience to them forfeiting the originality of his character. Could I hope that I had in any measure succeeded in this attempt, I might, perhaps, boast of having assisted to destroy prejudices always disgraceful, and now, since the increased intercourse between the two countries, peculiarly injurious.

With regard to the tragedies of this volume, the subjects have always appeared to me singularly adapted to tragic representation. In the first I intended to exhibit a lady of high rank, splendid accomplishments, great mental qualifications, and spotless character, so impressed with the necessity of preserving her reputation unstained, so inflamed with the love of such a reputation, as to set at defiance whatever natural affections might interfere with this leading and darling passion of her soul. Nor is this conduct by any means uncom

mon. Instances have very frequently occurred of unfortunate females destroying or endeavouring to destroy the fruit of illicit love, influenced undoubtedly, in part at least, by the feelings, which may surely be attributed with greater force and propriety to a lady, the last descendant and heiress of a noble house, stimulated by the idea that she has not only her own fame to support, but that of a long line of ancestry connected with it. To increase the just and legitimate interest in favor of my heroine, I have represented her as innocent, though I confess with a boldness

in my incident, which makes me fly with some pleasure to the example of Richardson in his Clarissa Harlowe. To render her prominent in the piece, I was less anxious to bring out any other character. The reader, perhaps, unfortunately for me, may be induced to make some comparison between my tragedy and the " Mysterious Mother" of Lord Orford. In that play, however, which affords a most favorable specimen of the powerful mind of its author, so many circumstances of horror are introduced, that it may be doubted whether the pleasure of the perusal is not more than balanced by painful sensations. The

noble author himself is aware of this disadvantage, yet has he unaccountably added some incidents of new and accumulated guilt to those which were the ground-work of the original story. In "the Fair Penitent" of Rowe, the lady is too partial to her crime to awaken much pity towards her misfortunes, or much desire that her reputation may be preserved; and her boisterous vulgarity, with great difficulty suppressed by the smooth regularity of the verse, is a quality tending still more to weaken the interest she might otherwise have created. Massinger in his "Fatal Dowry," which the last mentioned author has so disadvantageously imitated, attenuating his characters, weakening his pathos, depressing his sublimity, and perverting his morality, has given but a short, though indeed a most splendid moment of contrition and alarm to the guilty Beaumelle, and upon the whole the subject seems still open to any who devote their time to tragic representation.

The foundation of my second tragedy is not less perilous than the aim of a noble and gallant prince, to recover his throne from an usurper, who has murdered his father. Such a subject we may suppose has