No. XXXV. OF THE MICROCOSM. MONDAY, July 9, 1787. Sed turpem putat in fcriptis, metuitque lituram. T HERE are few inftances of imperfection more mortifying to human pride, than thofe incidental ones, which occur in the moft illuftrious and dif tinguished characters. The traces of occafional overfight are most frequently discovered in those figures, whofe outlines have been dafhed with a gigantic fublimity of the mafterpieces of the most celebrated painters; few will remain, which we can declare faultlefs; after thofe are excepted, in which fome trivial overfight has been difcovered, and published with all the efforts of induftrious petulance. The errors of Hannibal and Charles the 12th are fuch, as an inferior genius would have been preferved from, by the mere frigidity of cautious confideration; however fuperior the noble daring of a great mind, may be to that cold and faultlefs mediocrity which is approved without admiration. Though the puns of Paradife Loft, the incidental nodding of the Iliad, and the parties quarrèes in Somerset place, vanish before the collected fplendor of the whole defign; they must be regarded as infinitely more mortifying, than a feties of continued dullness, or a collection of united deformity. In fuch a train of reflections I was interrupted, by an unexpected fummons from my Editor; who informed me, that a stranger, of a very extraordinary appearance, had of late made very frequent enquiries for me; and was now at his houfe, waiting my arrival with confiderable impatience. As I am not by nature either incurious, or difcourteous, I followed my Editor; who, after a walk of about a quarter of an hour, introduced me to a Gg little little parlour, and a little elderly man, with a very ferious countenance, and exceeding foul linen. After fmoothing his approaches to my acquaintance by fome introductory compliments, he informed me, as indeed I might have gueffed, that he was by profeffion an Author; that he had been for many years a literary projector; that, owing to a kind of fatality, which had hitherto attended his attempts, and a firm refolution on his own 'fide never to indulge the trivial taste of an illjudging age, in which it was his misfortune to be born,-but he would not trouble me with a ' detail of the open Hoftilities committed on his • works by avowed criticism, or the more fecret and dangerous attempts of tacit malevolence, ' and pretended contempt,-that he had lately hit upon a project, which by its nature must secure to itfelf the attention of the public, and which, if he had not formed a very wrong estimate of its merit, would draw his former efforts from the duft of unmerited oblivion, into general notice, and univerfal approbation. It could not have escaped an exact observer, and fuch a one he might, without hazarding the imputation of flattery, pronounce Mr. Griffin, (whereupon whereupon Mr. Griffin bowed) that the repu⚫tation of our great Tragic poet was finking a¿ pace; and that, not fo much from any radical or • intrinsic defect in his writings, as from fome ve'nial errors, and incidental omiffions. Our more ❝ refined neighbours had never been able to relish • the low humour which pervades every scene, or the frequent violation of those unities, which ' they observe with fo religious a regard. Mr. Voltaire, with that philofophic candour which fo ftrongly characterised his life and writings, had • abandoned his defence; and, though in fome in* stances he had deigned to borrow from him, had • condemned him as the poet of a barbarous age, and the favourite of an unenlightened people. Even among a national audience, the most admired of his dramas were received at least with' out that enthusiastic applause, they had formerly excited; and we must expect, that, in another century, the partiality for our favourite po'et will vanish, together with our national anti pathies against popery and wooden shoes, and frogs and flavery; and that a taste for French ' criticism will immediately follow a relish for 'their cookery. Something must be done, Mr. Griffin, and that 'fhortly. The commentators have done little or nothing. Indeed what could be expected from fuch a plan? Could any thing be more ridiculous? They have abfolutely confined themselves to what Shakespeare might poffibly have wrote! I am fully fenfible that the task of reducing to poetic rules, and critical exactnefs, what was written in ignorance or contempt of both, requires a genius and ability little inferior to that of the original compofer; yet this is my pro'ject; which, however arduous in the undertaking, however difficult in execution, I am perfuaded to attempt; and to whom can I with greater propriety Mr. Griffin, who himfelf fo early an age ❝ in fo extraordinary a manner &c. &c. My friend continued, by remarking that the people of Athens allowed to the judicious critic, who should adapt a Tragedy of Æfchylus to the ftage, an equal proportion of credit and copymoney, with the author of an original Drama. Yet he defired me to obferve, that the author of "Gracian tragedy was far more strictly observant ' of poetic difcipline, than the father of the En ❤ |