272 A Letter to Mr. Garrick from Sir Robert Talbot. fons are amidst the dangers of a battle; and can I myself be in a playing humour, when the very greatest concern of the state is depending. A LETTER to Mr. GARRICK from Sir ROBERT TALBOT. My dear Garrick, I will give you the fubftance of a converfation which I lately had with a man of quality, who does himself the honour to be one of the familiars of the French ftage. I was going to make a very good ufe of my morning, when one of thefe fine gentlemen by profeffion, who think they copy our young nobility by tra verfing the streets till noon in a flovenly drefs, did me the honour to come and invite me to breakfaft, I fcarce remembered having feen the perfonage. He, nevertheless, embraced me with the greatest effufion of tenderness. With the eagernefs which is fhewn to communicate the most interefting news, he rapidly told me a number of anecdotes of the fcandalous Chronicle, in which feveral men and women of the first rank were completely difhonoured. At length he reached his field of battle, and harrangued on the theatres. You may well imagine, that, for a long time, I was only an auditor. Being tired with this, I begged him to give me his opinion of the English theatres. My gentleman did not want preffing, to affure ine, upon his honour, that he defpifed to the laft degree our best pieces, no part of which he had ever read; and he let me know, in terms extremely polite, that" an English play is a diverfion calculated for the populace. O fye! added he, your comedies are always indecent; and your tragedies are filthily ftuffed with politics, morality, fatire, and buffoonery. Is this an entertainment for the virtuous?" I affumed a half ferious air; and feeming modeftly to doubt whether the marquifs was not in an error, I told him, that "I fufpected that he judged of the English theatre too feverely. As it was at Athens, I proceeded, the playhoufe at London, is for all the claffes of the nation. The peer of the realm, the gentleman, the merchant, the citi at anew. A Letter to Mr. Garrick from Sir Robert Talbot. at moft, eight or nine hundred perfons, who refort regularly to the theatre from tafte or habit, who have before frequently read the piece, if it is old, who have almost got it by heart at the first reprefentation of it, if it is new, perfons whofe minds are cultivated, whofe manners are gentle and polite, who attend chiefly to the purity, the elegance of the dicton and style, to the brilliancy of the thoughts, to the management of the plot, to the gradual progrefs of fituations, to the natural unravelling of the whole. Give us at London fuch an audience; and we will become decent and methodical. Our authors will no longer imitate Shakespear, except in his force and energy. They will reform our old pieces; they will compofe them Their tragedies will abound with fentiment; they will be warm and interefting. The fcenes will confift of agitations of the heart, of perplexities of the mind, and not of a multiplicity and a complication of incidents more fuitable to a romance than a drama. They will no longer ridiculously endeavour to extort tears by their comedies, to terrify by ghofts in their tragedies. They will equally forbear to make their principal character tedioufly verbofe, and to fwell with trite jokes the parts of the footman and chambermaid. Their unravelling will not be always a marriage; they will learn how to form fome other intriegue befides a monotonous amour." "Ah! Sir, interrupted the marquifs, you retort upon us; and indeed very undefervedly, What fignifies to us the barrennefs or imagination of our authors? Our theatre will owe nothing more to thole gentlemen: It is to its actors that it afcribes the fuperiority. You will allow that there are not in Europe any talents comparable to our - to our, &c. Who the duce fees in a piece, old or new, any thing more than its amufeinent? It is acted for twenty nights, when the author knows how to accomodate fome particular parts to the air and voice of the principal actors. Twenty nights, Sir! et is a fortune to a poet." " readily believe it, replied I: that fortune, however, would not have contented VOL. VII. 273 either Corneille or Racine." "Well, faid he, you talk to me of poets of former times, who employed fome years in making a tragedy. Now a tragedy is the work of a month or fix weeks. They love, or they hate. They are urged by jealoufy, love, or revenge. They explain themfelves by word of mouth, or by letter. The devil comes acrofs: Some he kills, the rest he mar ries; and the spectator is too fortunate, if the whole piece be not a mere hash of fome of the best romances." As I could not fupprefs a smile, the marquifs thought me ftaggered, and grew bolder."Is it not true, continued he, fettling himself in his chair, that a play is a picture? We will in troduce the poet for the choice of the fubject and for the defign: This is making his part large enough. But the attitudes, the colouring, the expreffion, all the particular beauties, you will allow, depend on the actors, that they hold the pencil. that they are really the painters.' "That, I interrupted, I shall never allow, unless you infift upon it. On the contrary, it feems to me that the actors only dif play the canvafs covered by the poet, that they cloath themselves, as it were in the dreffes which he has given his characters." "No, Sir, by no means" refumed he with petulance. "Can you have attended to incoherent difcourfe of Oreftes when mad, of Herod when delirious? Is it not the look, the accent, the attitude of the actor, that disturb you, and plant horror in thẻ bottom of your foul? The actor alone fpeaks to your eyes, to your fenfes, to your heart." "I think, replied I, that he fays what the poet bids him fays that having made himself master of the poet's idea, he copies well the figure which was drawn for him, and that he only enters into the paflion whofe steps the expreffions prefcribe to him. It appears to me that a good player is like a ikilful musician, who compcfes the tune to the words." Ah! cried the marquifs, you are taken in your own net, the opera is not in perfection, till after we have cafed to attend to the words." "Yes, faith I with a laugh, I have heard mention made of one of your muficians, who undertook M m 10 T An Extraordinary Character. 274 read and acquainted with the world. To feem moved with an act of fublime virtue, is bafely to acknowledge, that we do not think ourselves capable of it. To appear aftonished at a great crime, is foolishly to fay, that we have not ftudied mankind, nor know how wicked they can be. Now let me afk you, what fine gentleman will fo ridiculously expofe himself in the face of the public? I give a proof of my good tafte by criticifing or applauding the actor. I leave the author to the gentlemen of the academy." Judge, my dear Garrick, between the marquifs and me. Be healthy, if poffible; and believe that I efteem and love you as much as I ought, that is to fay, as much as you are loved and efteemed by any of your friends. An EXTRAORDINARY CHARACTER. Peregrine Puzzle poffeffes about three hundred a year in the Funds which he spends to the laft farthing by the end of the year, and takes care not to run one farthing in debt. In this particular he may be fimilar to fome few, but in every other refpect there is fcarce another being on earth that refembles him. Indeed, the sole objectof his attention is to deviate in every thing from all the world. His drefs is ftudiously unfashionable; you may always trace a retrospective mode of at least ten years in the cut of his coat, and the cock of his hat. He wears a bob wig, becaufe every body now either wears their hair, or clubs their peruques. His fhoes are fquare-toed, his hofe yellow, and his breeches come not below his knees. His bed is in his dining-room, and he receives his company in his bed-chamber. He was a staunch Buteite whilft Wilkes was popular; but now he has loft his popularity, he is a frenuous Wilkite. He never goes out in fine weather, but when it rains plenteously, and is confiantly upon the tramp throughout London till it becomes fair. He eats beef fteaks for breakfast, and drinks coffee for dinner. He goes to reft at five in the afternoon, and rifes at three in the morning. He reads Moliere in English, and Milton in French. He never has his face compleatly fhaved; at one time his upperlip befpeaks him a Jew, at another his chin announces a Musulman. He drinks wine to his meats, and porter to his pipe. He prefers mutton to venison, and a red herring to turbot. In converfation he never agrees with any man, and if his opponent fhould at length agree with him, he then takes the oppofite fide of the queftion to reconfute him. His chief food confifts of vegetables in winter and high dishes in fummer. Being at a coffee-house taken for another perfon a few days ago, he afked the gentleman who made the mistake, "If there was any one in London like himself?" and being anfwered there was, he immediately went home and changed his dress from top to toe; then returned and asked the fame perfon, "If any one refembled him now?" "No really, Sir, that is impoffible." This reply restored him to his former tranquility of mind. After this defcription it were almost needlefs to fay, that Mr. Puzzle is a Bachelor, and that he probably will never prove a Benedick. Let it not, however Cook on the virtues of Sage. however be fuppofed, that Peregrine has no penchant for the lovely fex; but then his amours are confined to fifhwomen for the fragrance of their odour, and cinder-wenches for the inchantment of their complexions. The vanity of being fingular is difcernable in many ftrange fellows in 275 this town: and perhaps the Literati have produced more oddities than any other purfuit whatever; but I will defy all the poets and commentators in Europe to produce a Puzzle. He is, indeed, an oddity of the very first class, and merits a place, as fuch, in your valuable Magazine. To the EDITOR of the OXFORD MAGAZINE. Cur Morietur Homo, cui Salvia crefcit in Horto? SIR, AGE is a fovereign vegetable, and phyfic. Provident nature has here too, as in all her other gifts, furnished us not only with an abundance of the fame fpecies of plants, but with a great diverfity alfo of the fame fort. There are two principle fpecies of Sage: The garden, and wood, or wild Sage. Of the garden there are many kinds, fome of which grow not with us. Our commen garden Sage are, the broad white, and green-leaved; the red Sage, and our narrow-leaved fort, called Sage of Virtue. Sage is fo called, quia falvos Homines et incolumes efficiat; Because it can render men fafe and found. Sage deferves not only the just reputation it has been always in of a very wholefome herb in common ufe, and generally known; but is admirable, fays Sir William Temple, in confumptive cafes, with which he cured fome very desperate, by a draught every morning of fpring water with an handful of Sage boiled therein, continued for a month. And he questioned not, but that if ufed as tea, it would have at least in all kinds as good an effect upon health, if not of fo much entertainment to the taste, being perhaps not fo agreeable; and he had reason to believe, when he was in Holland, that vaft quantities of Sage were carried to the Indies yearly, as well as of tea brought over from thofe countries into ours. Leigh. Sage flowers in July, and has ripe feed in Auguft, or not long after the time of flowering. But Sage of Virtue, though moft commonly, and in many places, it yields no feed at all, yet in fome countries, and in fome years, it does; aud fome bear purple, and fome white flowers. However, its defect of feed is well fupplied in its increafe by fetting flips in proper seasons. As a medicine it is nervous and proper for all diforders of the head and nerves from cold caufes, for palfies, convulfions and spitting of blood. It is good against the poisonous bites of all kind of venomous animals. It is proper in the plague, and other malignant and peftilential difeafes; in catarrhs and rheumatifm. It will kill worms in the ears, and in ulcers. Boiled in water it makes good gargarifms for fore mouths, and proper lotions to wash certain parts with. There is a natural camphor lodged in the vehicles of Sage, the warmth of which, haftily dried, gives fometimes fome eafe in pains of the gout, when the leaves are applied upon the part, and bound up in flannel. These three fpecies of plants are common in our gardens. The green and red Sages differ no otherwife than in the colour of their leaves; the feeds of one and the fame plant produce both. But the fmall fort is a diftinct fpecies; its leaves are much narrower than those of the other, generally of a whitish colour, and neM m 2 ver 276 Cook on the Virtues of Sage. ver red; most of them have at the bottom a piece standing out on each fide in the form of ears. Both forts are moderately warm aromatic, accompanied with a light degree of aftringency and bitterness. The finall fort is the ftrongest, the large moft agreeable. The writers on the Materia Medica are full of the virtues of Sage, and de rive its name from its fuppofed falutary qualities: as Salvia falvatrix, natura conciliatrix. Its real effects are moderately to warm and ftrengthen the veffels; hence in cold phlegmatic habits, it excites appetite, promotes the natural fecretions, and proves ferviceable in debilities of the nervous fyftem. The belt preparation for thefe purpofes is a fimple infufion of the dried leaves, drank as tea: Or a tincture, or extract, made with rectified fpirit, taken in proper dofes: Thefe contain the whole virtue of the Sage; the dif tilled water and effential oil only its warmth and aromatic quality, without any thing of its roughnefs or bitternefs. A green infufion of its leaves, with the addition of a little lemon juice, proves an ufeful diluting drink in febrile diforders, of an elegant colour, and fufficiently acceptable to the palate; in which cafe malt liquors are generally very improper, as turning ropy in the hot ftomach, caufing loosenefs, and increasing the fever. The green leaves are ufually eaten by fome in the fpring as a fallad, with a little vinegar, falt, and pepper, with bread and butter; or only laid thereon: So taken it ftrengthens the ftomach; expels wind; comforts the bowels; refits poifon; and is good for fuch as are dull and drowfy, and trouble with vapours. Your's, &c. J. COOK. |