THE

POLYANTHOS.

VOLUME II.

We shall never envy the honours which wit and learning
obtain in any other cause, if we can be numbered among the
writers who have given ardour to virtue, and confidence to
truth...Dr. Johnson.

Me in silvam abstrudo densam atque asperam...Cicero.

Boston :

BY J. T. BUCKINGHAM,

WINTER-STREET.

PUBLISHED

1806.

LENOX LIBRARY

ORK

THE

POLYANTHOS.

APRIL, 1806.

SKETCH OF THE LIFE

OF

MR. JOHN BERNARD.

WITH A PORTRAIT.

For sprightly parts of higher life design'd,
Where fashion's airy whims delude the mind,
Where homely Reason yields to polish'd Pride,
And Nature's vulgar feelings are denied,
Bernard, with lively taste and easy mien,
Gives gay precision to the comick scene.

The book of man he reads with nicest art,
And ransacks all the secrets of the heart;
The coxcomb feels a lash in every word;

Anon.

- His comick humour keeps the world in awe,
And Laughter frightens Folly more than Law.
Churchill.

F the various classes of men that present themselves to the pen of the biographer, there is none whose memoirs are read with greater avidity than those who have arisen to eminence in the histrionick art. Such as have attained this distinction by professional talents, and virtuous private character, are justly entitled to publick re

spect; and by frequently giving such characters a place, in periodical publications, a service is rendered to society. "For the real end of both tragedy and comedy," says a late writer, "is to extend the knowledge of human life, and improve those affections of our nature by which we are distinguished. Tragedy, strictly speaking, excites.compassion by the exhibition of human sorrows; and Comedy ridicules the frailties and infirmities of mortals, after a manner which may prove conducive to the rectification of them. To cherish pity and correct weakness must claim our regard." It is to be lamented, however, that this object has not always been kept in view and the American theatre, in many respects, has been highly censurable.

;

But

we hope the time is not very distant, when some of its excrescences will be lopped off, and the stage be respected, as the imitation of life-the mirror of manners-the representation of truth.

JOHN BERNARD, the subject of the present memoir, was born at Portsmouth, in England. His father was a lieutenant in the British

itish navy, and the son was designed for the same course of life. It seems, however, that young Bernard chose rather to follow the banners of Thalia than Bellona; and an early and unconquerable prepossession in favour of the stage defeated the intentions of his parents.

We have not been informed at what particular time or place Mr. B. began his theat