Such London is; by taste and wealth proclaim'd
The fairest capital of all the world;

By riot and incontinence the worst.

Where, touch'd by Reynolds, a dull blank becomes
A lucid mirror, in which nature sees

Gives more than female beauty to a stone,
And Chatham, eloquence to marble lips.
Nor does the chisel occupy alone

The pow'rs of sculpture, but the style as much;
Each province of her art her equal care.
With nice incision of her guided steel
She ploughs a brazen field, and clothes a soil
So sterile with what charms soe'er she will;
The richest scen'ry, and the loveliest forms.
Where finds philosophy her eagle eye,
With which she gazes at yon burning disk
Undazzled, and detects and counts his spots?
In London. Where her implements exact,
With which she calculates, computes, and scans,
All distance, motion, magnitude; and now
Measures an atom, and now girds a world?'
In London. Where has commerce such a mart,
So rich, so throng'd, so drain'd, and so supplied,
As London; opulent, enlarg'd, and still
Increasing London? Babylon of old"

Not more the glory of the earth, than she
A more accomplish'd world's chief glory now.
She has her praise.

COWPER.

TOWNS and cities have their peculiar pleasures. The union and connection of great numbers of individuals, naturally strengthens their powers of action, and renders them capable of transacting business on a large scale, and of achieving great enterprises both for private and public advantage. By the combined powers of men, the arts of life, the sciences that delight the mind, trade and commerce, are brought to a much greater perfection than they otherwise could be. The natural genius and faculties of human beings are more quickly unfolded, set in motion, and applied to useful purpose. Emulation and ambition are more excited than they would be in the shade. Refinement of manners, the accommodations and elegancies of life, and the means and opportunities of social recreation, and

amusement, may be reckoned among the pleasures of Town.

To

The pleasures of society are the most agreeable and rational that this world affords; and the state of social intercourse in a large town is much more refined, pleasing, and diversified, than in the country. Among such a number of inhabitants, whose characters, occupations, inclinations, and pursuits, are so various, a person must have ascended to the very climax of fastidiousness, if he cannot find a spirit congenial to his own. those who delight in the charms of literature, the town affords facilities of a superior kind: the bookclubs, news-rooms, and libraries, there to be met with, furnish advantages of which the country is generally destitute. The town likewise supplies a multiplicity of amusements not to be found in retired situations, among which those of the theatre are considered by many persons as forming an important class. It is contended that the stage, even in its present state, may still be considered as affording an elegant and pleasing entertainment. Without advocating the propriety of theatrical entertainments, it may be safely asserted that religion does not require us to indulge an austere and gloomy spirit, or to seclude ourselves from the world, its innocent gaieties, and its harmless pleasures. Those who draw the portrait of religion with a desponding countenance, and a dejected posture, must be unacquainted with its true character, communicating joy to the heart, and banishing sadness and asperity from the brow. Let us not conjure up from her repose, that scowling morose hag, Superstition, for ever lowering over the infernal abyss, and scattering firebrands and arrows in the paths of harmless pleasantry. Let us not call up this spirit from the abodes of darkness, in order to eclipse the spirit of christianity, bright, serene, unclouded, benign, and cheerful; indulgent to human frailty; comforting the weary and the heavy laden; friendly to innocent pleasure, and adverse to that senseless apathy and

1

wild fanaticism, which would strip vivacity of its playfulness, and sprightliness of its smile.

It is certainly much to be lamented, that the theatre should represent so many indecorous scenes, which have a tendency to corrupt the minds of the young, especially of females. The only way to purify the stage from the remaining dross, would be, for every woman to absent herself from the theatre, until the writers of plays, and the managers of the stage, have purged the popular pieces of every thing that is offensive to religion and morality. Then the public theatres might be undeniable sources of great and varied pleasure, as well as important means of improvement in manners and taste.

The following quotation from Pope's Prologue to Addison's Cato, shews what the stage should be, to be useful to man :

To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart;
To make mankind in conscious virtue bold,
Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold:
For this the tragic muse first trod the stage,
Commanding tears to stream thro' every age;
Tyrants no more their savage nature keep,

And foes to virtue wonder'd how they weep.

A profound observer of human life has well observed, that music, poetry, the theatre, &c. undoubtedly produce a salutary effect upon the heart; they render it sensible and susceptible of many good and noble feelings, raise and enrich the imagination, sharpen our wit, create cheerfulness and good humour, mollify our morals, and promote the social virtues. Nevertheless these excellent effects are capable of producing unspeakable misery, if carried to excess. A too tender and effeminate mind, which may easily be agitated by real or imaginary distress, by its own sufferings or the misery of others, is, indeed, a most lamentable acquisition; or a heart susceptible of every impression, agitated like a reed by various passions, and that every moment gives way to emotions which militate against each other;

or nerves upon which every impostor can play at pleasure, on finding out the key-string; either of these particulars is found extremely burdensome to us, when firmness, an unshaken manly courage, and perseverance, are required. An over-heated imagination, which soars above the sphere of reason and prudence, giving all our mental exertions a romantic turn, and transporting us into an ideal world, may render us very unfortunate in the real world, and entirely unfit us for social life. It stretches our expectations too high, creates wants which we cannot satisfy, and infects us with an aversion to every thing which is different from the ideal object, after which we expand our arms in such a mental trance. A luxuriant wit, a wanton humour, which is not under the tutelage of chaste reason, may easily degenerate at the expense of our goodness of heart, and may also lower us by creating a propensity for childish trifles; this will render us unfit for the prosecution of sublimer wisdom and sober truth, prevent the application of our mental powers to the pursuit of really useful objects, impel us to seek merely for momentary enjoyment, and prompt us to fix our whole attention upon imposing external appearances only, instead of diving into the essence of things. Hilarity easily degenerates into licentiousness, and a propensity for an eternal round of sensual gratifications. manners frequently degenerate into effeminacy, too obsequious pliancy, and mean and unwarrantable complaisance; and a life entirely devoted to social amusements and sensual pleasures, creates aversion to all serious occupations. It enjoys no permanent delight, for this can only be purchased by conquering many difficulties, and at the expense of indefatigable labour and exertion. Solitude, which is so beneficial to our mind and heart, is rendered irksome by such conduct, and makes us disgusted with a quiet domestic life, devoted to the faithful performance of our family and civil duties. If our plays were what they could and ought to be, if they were schools of virtue, where our deviations and follies were painted

Mild

in their natural colours, and good morals recommended in a pleasing and convincing manner, then, indeed, it would be highly useful for every young man to visit the theatre constantly, and to converse with those men who would be the greatest benefactors of their age. However, we must not judge of the theatre by that which it might be, but take it as it really is. While, in our comic pieces, the ridiculous traits of the follies of men are exaggerated so much as to render it impossible for us to behold in them our own defects; while our plays favour romantic love; while they teach young fools and love-sick girls how to impose upon, and obtain the consent of old and experienced fathers and mothers, who know better than their sons and daughters, that an imaginary sympathy of hearts, and a transitory fit of love, are not sufficient to constitute matrimonial happiness; while thoughtlessness appears in our theatres in a pleasing garb, and profligacy is represented in an elegant and captivating form, with the external appearance of dignity and energy; while admiration is forced contrary to our will; while our imagination is tutored to look only for wonderful and unnatural catastrophes ;-while our operas make us indifferent whether sound reason be offended or not, if only our ear be tickled; while foreign artists are encouraged, and those of our fellow citizens possessing equal, if not superior abilities, are suffered to starve; while the most pitiful grinner and the most undeserving woman are generally applauded, because the titled and untitled populace have taken them under their protection; and finally, while our composers of plays neglect all the rules of probability, and offend against every principle of nature and art, to please the vitiated taste of the multitude, and consequently afford to the spectator no food for his mind and heart, but only amusement and sensual gratification-while this unhappily is the state of our theatres, it is the duty of every honest man to admonish young people to partake of their pleasures but sparingly.

These observations, it must be remembered, were