"Vice always found a fympathetic friend; They pleas'd their age, and did not aim to mend : 'Yet bards like these aspir'd to lasting praise, 'And proudly hop'd to pimp in future days. Their cause was general, their fupports were ftrong; Their flaves were willing, and their reign was long; 'Till Shame regain'd the poft that Senfe betray'd, And Virtue call'd Oblivion to her aid. Then crush'd by rules, and weaken'd as refin'd, For years the pow'r of tragedy declin'd; From bard to bard the frigid caution crept, 'Till declamation roar'd, whilft paffion flept; Yet ftill did Virtue deign the stage to tread, Philofophy remain'd, though Nature fled. But forc'd, at length, her ancient reign to quit, • She faw great Fauftus lay the ghost of wit; Exulting Folly hail'd the joyous day, 'And Pantomime and Song confirm'd her fway. But who the coming changes can prefage, 'And mark the future periods of the stage? Perhaps, if skill could diftant times explore, New Behns, new Durfeys, yet remain in store; 'Perhaps, where Lear has rav'd, and Hamlet dy'd, 'On flying cars new forcerers may ride; 'Perhaps (for who can guess the effects of chance?) 'Here Hunt may box, or Mahomet* may dance. Hard is his lot that here by fortune plac'd, 'Muft watch the wild viciffitudes of Tafte; 'With every meteor of Caprice must play, 'And chace the new-blown bubbles of the day. A rope-dancer, a real or pretended Turk, that exhibited on Covent-garden ftage a winter or two before. Ah! let not cenfure term our fate our choice, Then prompt no more the follies you decry, 'As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die; 'Tis your's, this night, to bid the reign commence Of refcu'd Nature, and reviving Sense; To chace the charms of found, the pomp of fhow, • For useful mirth and falutary woe; < Bid fcenic Virtue form the rifing age, ' And Truth diffufe her radiance from the ftage.' This masterly and fpirited addrefs failed in a great measure of its effect; the town, it is true, fubmitted to the revival of Shakespeare's plays, recommended as they were by the exquifite acting of Mr. Garrick; but in a few winters they discovered an impatience for pantomimes and ballad-farces, and were indulged with them. From that time Mr. Garrick gave up the hope of correcting the public tafte, and at length became fo indifferent about it, that he once told me, that if the town required him to exhibit the Pilgrim's Progrefs' in a drama, he would do it. Two years after, the management of Drury-lane theatre being in the hands of his friends, Johnfon bethought himself of bringing his tragedy on the stage. It was not only a juvenile compofition, but was written before he had become converfant with Shakespeare, indeed before he had ever read Othello, and having now, for more than ten years, lain by him, in which time his judgment had been growing to maturity, he fet fet himself to revise and polish it, taking to his affiftance Mr. Garrick, whofe experience of stage decorum, and the mechanic operation of incidents and fentiments on the judgment and paffions of an audience, was, by long attention, become very great. With these advantages and all thofe others which Mr. Garrick's zeal prompted him to fupply, fuch as magnificent fcenery, fplendid and well-chofen dreffes, and a diftribution of the principal parts, himself taking a very active one, to the best performers then living, namely, Barry, Mrs. Cibber and Mrs. Pritchard; it was, in the winter of the year 1749, prefented to a polite, a numerous, and an unprejudiced audience. Never was there fuch a display of eastern magnificence as this fpectacle exhibited, nor ever were fine moral fentiments more strongly enforced by correct and energetic utterance and just action, than in the reprefentation of this laboured tragedy; but the diction of the piece was cold and philofophical; it came from the head of the writer, and reached not the hearts of the hearers. The confequence whereof was, that it was received with cold applause, and having reached to a ninth night's performance, was laid by. During the reprefentation Johnfon was behind the fcenes, and thinking his character of an author required upon the occafion fome diftinction of drefs, he appeared in a gold-laced waistcoat. The truth of the above affertion, as to the language of this tragedy, is to be judged of by the perusal of it; for, notwithstanding its ill fuccefs as a dramatic representation, Johnson found his account in giving it to the world as a poem, Of the fable, the cha racters, and the fentiments, it is befide my purpose to fpeak; they are alfo now open to examination. It is nevertheless worthy of a remark, that the author has fhewn great judgment in deviating from historical verity, as will appear by a comparison of the drama with the story as related by Knolles, and abridged in a foregoing page; for whereas the hiftorian defcribes Irene as endowed with the perfections as well of the mind as of the body, and relates that fhe was an innocent victim to the ferocity of a tyrant, Johnson thought that fuch a catastrophe was too fhocking for reprefentation, and has varied the narrative by making the lady renounce her religion, and fubjecting her to the fufpicion of being a joint confpirator in a plot to affaffinate the Sultan; but of which he is afterwards convinced fhe is innocent. In thus altering the ftory, it must however be confeffed, that much of its beauty is deftroyed, and the character of Mahomet reprefented with none of thofe terrible graces that dignify the narrative: his public love and command over himself are annihilated, and he is exhibited as a tyrant and a voluptuary. The world foon formed an opinion of the merit of Irene, which has never fluctuated: a reprefentation during nine nights, was as much as a tragedy which excited no paffion could claim; for, however excellent its precepts, and however correct its language, that it wants thofe indifpenfable qualities in the drama, intereft and pathos, cannot be denied. We read it, admit every position it advances, commend it, lay it by, and forget it: our attention is not awakened by any eminent beauties, for its merit is uniform through out: out: all the perfonages, good or bad, are philofophers: thofe who execute and those who iffue the orders talk the fame language: the characters caufe no anxiety, for the virtuous are fuperior to all mortal calamity, and the vicious beneath our care: the fate of Irene, though deplorable, is just; notwithstanding she suffers by a falfe accufation, her apoftacy and treachery to her friend deferve punishment: the morality, it is needless to say of Johnson's spontaneous productions, is excellent; but how were unimpaffioned precepts to make their way alone, where variety, business and plot are always expected? where lively nonsense and pathetic imbecillity often fucceed against the conviction of reason? Or how could it be hoped that frigid virtue could attract those who fuffer their pity to be eafily moved either by the hero or the villain, if he has the address firft to engage their paffions? Of the expectations that Johnfon had entertained of the fuccefs of his tragedy, no conjecture can now be formed. If they are to be judged of by his outward demeanour after the town had configned it to oblivion, they were not very fanguine; indeed the receipt of three nights must have afforded him fome confolation; and we muft fuppofe that he increased the emolument thence arifing, by the fale of the copy. We are therefore not to impute it to the disappointment of a hope that the play would be better received than it was, that in the winter of the fame year he published another imitation of Juvenal, viz. of his tenth fatire, with the title of The vanity of human wifhes; the fubjećt whereof, as it is an enumeration of the evils to which mankind are expofed, could not, at any period of his life, have been other than a tempting |