In your fourth act, the old man Polydore afks of a perfon belonging to Merope's court, who he is? I am Eurifes, fays he, Nicander's fon. Polidore then begins to talk of Nicander, and expreffes himself as Neftor does in Homer.

- Egli era umano,

E liberal: quando appariva, tutti
Facceangli onor. Io mi ricordo ancora
Di quanto ei felteggio con bella pompą
Le fue nozze con Sylvia, ch'era figlia
P' Olimpia e di Glicon, fratel d'Ipparco.
Tu dunque fei quel fanciullin che in corte
Silvia condur folea qual per pompa.
Parmi l'altri hieri, 9 quanto fiete preffi,
Quanto voi vaffretate, o gio vinetti

A farvi adulti e a gridar tacendo

Chi noi diam loco ! *

And in another place the fame old man, inyited to the ceremony of the queen's marriage, thus anfwers:

He was humane and liberal. When-e'er
Abroad he came, all joined to pay him honour.
Still memory records, with what folemnity
And radiant pomp, he was efpoufed to Silvia,
Daughter of Glicon and the fair Olimpia.
You then are Eurifes, whom when an infant,
Silvia oft brought to court with fuch attendance.
It seems but yesterday. How quickly youth
Shoots up, and gives us notice to depart, ·
And leave the world to them!

Veduti ho facrificiï; io mi ricordo
Di quello ancora, quando il re Cresfonte
Encommencio a regnar. Quella fu pompa.
Ora più non fi fanno a questi tempi
Di cotaï facrifici piu di cento

Fur le beftie fvenate, I facerdoti
Rifplendean tutti, ed ove ti yolgeffi

Altro non fi vedea che argento ed oro.t

All thefe paffages are natural: they are adapted to the perfonages you introduce, and to the manners you fuppofe them. Those ingenious familiarities would have been probably well recieved at Athens; but Paris and our pir demands a different fpecies of fimplicity. We might even boaft of having a more cultivated tafte than the inhabitants of Athens; for, if I do not mistake, plays were acted in that firft city of Greece, generally fpeaking, but on four fofemn festivals; and at Paris we have more than one theatrical entertainment every day in the year. There were not reckoned above ten thousand citizens at Athens: our city is fuppof ed to contain near eight hundred thousand fouls, among whom we may calculate that there are

My curious days are o'er. These eyes have seen
Solemnities enough. I yet remember
When king Cres fontes' happy reign began;
"Twas marked with feftivals and pomp fo great,
That prefent times can offer no comparison.
More than a hundred victims bled before
The facred altars; holy priests around
Stood glitt'ring; and, the dazzled eye beheld
Nothing but filver and the pureft gold.

thirty thousand who are judges of dramatic performances, and who judge almost every day.

You have had it in your power to adopt in your tragedy, that elegant and fimple comparifon of Virgil:

Qualis populeâ mærens philomela fub umbra
Amiffos queritur fætus.

So close in poplar fhades, her children gone,
The mother nightingale laments alone.

Dryden,

Were I to take the liberty, I fhould be foon fent back with my comparison to epic poetry, its proper place; fo hard a mafter is the public whom I have to deal with!

Nefcis heu! nefcis noftræ faftidia Romæ :
Et pueri nafum Rhinocerotis habent.

Faftidious tafte prevails and governs here;
Ev'n boys turn up the nofe, and learn to fneer.

The Engilh have a custom of finishing every act with a fimile: but we require, in a tragedy, the hero to speak, and not the poet; and our audience is of opinion, that in a critical state of affairs, in council, in a violent paffion, or in a preffing danger, princes and minifters make no poetical comparisons.

I could not, befides, introduce frequently on the ftage inferior perfonages fpeaking together. They contribute with you, to prepare

the more interesting scenes between the principal actors; they are so many avenues that lead to a fine palace; but fuch is the impatience of our audiences, that they infift upon entering into it at once. We must therefore yield to the taste of a nation the more difficult to please, as it has been long already in poffeffion of fo many diffe rent master-pieces.

But in these details, which our extreme nicety would not admit of, how very many beauties have I regretted? how much native nature pleafed me, though in a foreign dress ? I mention, Sir, part of these reasons which hindered me from imitating you, as much as I admired you.

I was then abfolutely obliged to write a new Mcrope. I have therefore wrote one different from yours; but I am very far from flattering myself that I have wrote it better. I look upon myfelf with regard to you, as a traveller, to whom an eastern king had made a prefent of rich brocades: this king fhould allow the traveller the privilege to wear them according to the mode of his own country.

My Merope was finished in the year 1733, pretty much in the fame manner as it now ap-. pears to you. Other engagements hindered me from bringing it then on the stage. But what deterred me moft from making it appear at that time, was the other plays which had met with fuccefs a little before, and which were wrote on the fame fubject, though under different names. At last I ventured my tragedy on the stage, and our nation fhewed that he was not displeased to lee the fame fubject diverfly handled. It happen

ed with our theatre, as it happens every day in a gallery of paintings, where several pictures represent the same story; men of tafte find pleafure in remarking the various manner, and each according to his turn is struck with the stile of particular painters. It is a kind of trial of skill which contributes to the perfection of the arts, and to the information of the public.

If the French Merope has met with the fame fuccefs as the Italian, it is to you, Sir, I am indebted for it; it is to that fimplicity which I was always fo fond of, and of which your performance furnished me the model. Though I have marched in a different track from you, yet you have been constantly my guide.

I with it were in my power to follow the example of the English and the Italians, as to blank verse.

But I foon perceived, and have long fince faid, that fuch an attempt would never fucceed in France, and that it fhewed more weaknefs than ftrength of parts, to endeavour throwing off a yoke borne by authors of fo many performances, which will last as long as the French nation or language.

Our poetry is not allowed the many other liberties which are taken in yours; and perhaps this is one reason why the Italians have been three or four ages beforehand with us in this amiable, but difficult art.

I fhould be glad, Sir, to follow your example in other respects, as well as in tragedy. I would particularly form myfelf on your taste in the fcience of history; not that vague and barren