learn, (observes Mr. Rowe,) more than that every one who had a true taste of merit, and could distinguish men, had generally a just value and esteem for him. His exceeding candour and good-nature must certainly have inclined all the gentler part of the world to love him, as the power of his wit obliged the men of the most delicate knowledge and polite learning to admire him. He had the honour to meet with many great and uncommon marks of favour and friendship from the Earl of SOUTHAMPTON, famous in the histories of that time for his friendship to the unfortunate Earl of ESSEX. It was to that noble lord that he dedicated his poem of" Venus and Adonis," and his "Rape of Lucrece." There is one instance so singular in the munificence of this patron of the poets, that if I had not been assured that the story was handed down by Sir W. D'AVENANT, who was probably very well acquainted with his affairs, I should not have ventured to have inserted; that Lord SOUTHAMPTON, at one time, gave him a thousand pounds, to enable him to go through a purchase, which he heard he had a mind to. A bounty very great, and very rare at any time, and almost equal to that profuse generosity the present age has shown to French dancers and Italian singers. TRAGEDY AND COMEDY. MR. DRAMA, It was a question disputed, among the critics of Greece, in which of these compositions it was hardest to excel; and at the same time it was universally acknowledged, that the tragic and comic excellencies were so different, that no man could ever be superior in both. The following ingenious and forcible arguments were advanced on the side of comedy:-" It is easier to raise our attention by good sense, than to excite our laughter by wit. The plot of tragedy is already wrought to our hands by the historian; the plot of comedy is derived from the fancy of the poet. The former is conversant in the grave passions of public life; such as avarice, ambition, and some lines on heroic love; these are easily painted, because great characters are exposed to the obser vation of all men. The latter chiefly interferes with the workings of the mind in private life, and the little family intrigues and inconsistencies which occupy so considerable a share of mankind. These are painted with difficulty, because, to gain a thorough knowledge of them, requires a very intimate and extensive acquaintance with the world. Our behaviour in public must depend upon some_virtnes and vices, which, though differently blended in different constitutions, are always the same, and have determined ideas annexed to them. Our behaviour in private, will depend on the fickleness of our temper, our levities, and humours, which can never be defined, and are not only various in various persons, but are hourly jarring and unsettled in the same person. These levities are chiefly ingredients in the composition of comedy, as well as they are in that of mankind; and so flutter between vice and virtue, that they are hard to be caught and described. Tragedy is now come to a degree of perfection which leaves no expectation from posterity; but comedy, as by far the most difficult, will admit of much alteration and improvement. In short, then, to hit off the passions of comedy with nature and propriety, to bring them home to every man's own business and bosom, is a task reserved for some genius in future ages.' SONNET. Your's, &c. Cassio. TO MISS KELLY, OF THE ENGLISH OPERA HOUSE, You are not, KELLY, of the common strain, Of genuine freshness, which our hearts avow; And please the better from a pensive face, SPIRITED LETTER OF OLD YATES, "TO THE EDITOR OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER. Saturday, October 18, 1783. "SIR, Though it is not my profession to write, but to retail the writings of others, yet I find the spirit move me to hazard some observations on a very good-humoured, sprightly, elegant paragraph in your paper of yesterday. The facetious gentleman is pleased to say, that' YATES, and his wife, have retired from the stage with 36,000. or 40,000., and that they are remarkable for their comely appearance, though one is, from theatrical dates, 70-the other above 60 years of age "Tis wonderful so wise a man should be mistaken; but the facts are,— "They have not retired with 40,000%. "They have not retired at all. "Theatrical dates do not prove them to be, the one 70, the other more than 60 years of age. "In respect to myself, that I am remarkable for my 'comely' appearance, that I can (though not worth quite 40,000.) eat my mutton, without an engagement, and yet owe no man any thing, are offences to which I am ready to plead guilty; if comeliness is a sin, heaven help me, I say! and as to owing no man any thing, in these days, when it is the genteelest thing in the world to pay no man any thing, I must e'en stand trial before a jury of honest tradeɛmen, who, I dare say, will acquit me, from the singularity of the case. "In respect to theatrical dates, I have, to be sure, told the chimes at midnight some five and thirty years ago, which, as I find myself just as healthy and alert as in those delightful days, I do not think at all disqualifies n general cast of characters, in which I have please judges as your correspondent; nor is it absolute sary that the Miser, Fondlewife, Gomez, Don Mo Wilful Witwou'd, &c. &c should have the first d beard on their chins; but I will whisper somethi Gentleman's ear, that whilst such writers as he ar to assassinate honest people in the dark, by abusi mous paragraphs, nobody that has mutton to eat out for theatrical engagements, but quietly let the into that happy state, "When one Egyptian darkness covers all "So much for myself-and now for Mrs. YATE "That she is a pretty enough actress, as times by no means uncomely, I willingly allow; but th more than 60, or will be these dozen years at l bear something of a doubt. "As her first appearance was on Drury-lane s in the full meridian of its glory, the date is eas tained; but to save the Gentleman trouble, as he bad calculator, I will inform him it was in M "Virginia," in the year 1754, (29 years ago,) and was then as pretty a plump rosy Hebe, as one sha a summer's day. "She had the honour (an honour never con any other person,) of being introduced, as a you ner, by a prologue, written and spoken by that g ter, Mr. GARRICK, in which the following lines a present purpose : 'If novelties can please, to-night we've two, With one wish more her whole ambition ends→ She hopes some merit to deserve such friends.' "And now give me leave, sir, to tell your correspondent a story. On the first coming to England of Signor TREBBI, a worthy Gentleman, the editor of a newspaper, paid him a morning visit, and informed him he was a public writer, and had characters of all prices. I understand you, sir,' said TREBBI, and have heard of you. I have no guineas to throw away so ill; but I am a writer too; et voila ma plume! This is my pen,' showing him a good English oaken towel. Signor TREBBI was so good as to leave me his pen, the only one I shall make use of against malevolence in future, where the writer does me the honour of making himself known to me. "I am, Sir, "Your obedient, "RICHARD YATES." THE ANCIENT THEATRES. [Resumed from page 172.] Scena, Proscenium, Scare Versatiles, Conductiles, &c. The ancient scenery at first consisted of mere boughs, but afterwards of tapestry, not painted canvas. The Greek stage consisted of three parts, the scena, across the theatre, upon the line of the curtain in our theatres; the proscenium, where the actors performed; and the postscenium, the part behind the house, before-mentioned. To form parts of the scenes there were prisms of framework, turning upon pivots, upon each face of which was strained a distinct picture, one for tragedy, consisting of large buildings, with columns, statues, and other corresponding ornaments; a second face, with houses, windows, and balconies, for comedy; a third applied to farce, with cottages, grottoes, and rural scenes. These were the scena versatiles of SERVIUS. Besides these, there were scena ductiles, which drew backwards and forwards, like |