Conversation: a Didactic Poem, in Three Parts. By William Cooke, Esq. large 8vo. 4s. Phillips. 1807.

Sensible and correct, but tedious and too often prosaic. Didactic poetry need not be brilliant, but it should be sufficiently animated. Many of the passages, however, are forcible as well as elegant, and the thoughts are in general just, and often striking.

Letters on the subject of the Duties on Coffee. By Edgar Corrie, Esq. 8vo. Cadell and Davies. 1809.

The letters are addressed to the Chancellor of the Erchequer and the author repels all the objections which have been, or may be urged, against the measure he proposes; he wishes the duty to be reduced to 2o per pound, a reduction which will tend to suppress smuggling, add to the comfort and nourishment of the people, relieve the growers of coffee, and diminish the hopes of the enemy to obtain great and future durable advantages, by impairing the colonial commerce and resources of this kingdom. As to the East India company who would probably resist the desired reduction. Mr. C. contends that "the commerce of the East India company to China, will comparatively suffer little diminution from the most full effect of the measure purposed, which would, besides, essentially promote the shipping interest of the kingdom." And with respect to the tea brokers, supposing that their interest would suffer by such a reduction of the duties on coffee, he urges, that the health and comfort of the people of this country, ought not to be sacrificed to the profit of these dealers.

That the reduction of these duties so low as 28 per pound, and Mr. Corrie thinks that nothing higher would be an effectual reduction, would be in every point of view expedient, we are not prepared to assert; but as lovers of coffee, we for our own parts wish that it will be found right to adopt his suggestion, and that, in future we may be enabled to taste the real beverage at a cheap rate, instead of brown water made of burnt crust, for which we are now obliged to pay so dear at the coffeehouses.

THE DRAMA.

ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE.- -Shakspeare.

ORIGINAL CHARACTER OF FOOTE.

BY MR. GAHAGAN.

FOOTE was a very extraordinary man, and had talents which he abused. He abounded in wit, humour, and sense; but he was so fond of detraction and mimicing, that he might be properly called a buffoon; and they were a great blemish in his conversation, though he entertained you. He was generally civil to your face, and seldom put you out of humour with yourself; but you paid for his civility the moment you turned your back, and were sure of being made ridiculous. He was not so malignant as some I have known, but his excessive vanity led him into satire and ridicule. He was vain of his classical knowledge (which was but superficial) and of his family, and used to boast of his numerous relations in the West of England. He was most extravagant and baubling, but not generous. He delighted in buying rings, snuffboxes, and toys, which were a great expence to him; and he lost money at play, and was a dupe with all his parts. He loved wine and good living, and was a mighty pretender to skill in cookery, though he did not understand a table as well as he thought; he affected to like distinguished dishes and ragouts, and could not bear to eat plain beef or mutton, which shewed he had a depraved appetite; he spared no expence in his dinners, and his wine was good. He was very disgusting in his manner of eating, and not clean in his person; but he was so pleasant, and had such a flow of spirits, that his faults and foibles were overlooked. He always took the lead in company, and was the chief or sole performer. He had such a rage for shining, and such an itch for applause, that he often brought to my mind Pope's lines on the Duke of Wharton :

"Though senates hung on all be spoke

"The inob must hail him master of the joke."

He loved lords' company, though he gave himself airs of despising them, and treating them cavalierly. He was

Kicentious and sensual, made a jest of religion and morality, and of all worthy men. He told a story pleasantly, and added many circumstances of his own invention to heighten it. He had a good choice of words, and apt expressions, and could speak very well upon grave subjects; but he soon grew tired of serious conver sation, and returned naturally to his favourite amusement -mimickry-in which he did not excel; for he drew caricatures by which made you laugh more than a closer mimick. He was a coarse actor, yet he played the parts in his own plays better than any who have appeared in them since his death; for instance, Major Sturgeon, Aircastle, Cadwallader, &c.

He had a flat, vulgar face, without expression; but where a part was strongly ridiculous, he succeeded, for he always ran into farce; so that I have been often surfeited with him on the stage, and never wished to see him twice in the same character. Though he wanted simplicity in his acting, yet he was a very good judge of the stage; but so unfair, and so disposed to criticise, that you could not depend on his opinion.

As a writer he certainly had merit, and afforded great entertainment to the town for many years. If he had taken more pains in finishing his pieces, they would have been equal to most of our comedies; but he was too indolent, and too idle, to carry them to perfection.

Upon the whole, his life and character would furnish a subject for a good farce, with an instructive moral. It would shew that parts alone are of little use without prudence or virtue; and that flashes of wit and humour give only a momentry pleasure; but no solid entertainment.

REFLECTIONS ON DRAMATIC PERFORMANCES.

IF the stage should be really what the generality of our polite writers tell us it ought to be, a school of agreeable morality, it naturally follows, that those plays are the best which afford us the most pleasing instruction, and that it is neither a strict adherence to the severity of critical discipline, or a slavish imitation of the ancients, which can possibly constitute the excellence of dramatic Literature.

Nothing is more necessary for an author to cosider, who means to exhibit his productions upon the stage,

than the genius of the people before whom they are to be represented: different countries have their different manners, and on this simple account, it is utterly impossible ever to establish an universal criterion for dramatic excellence in writing. The cold declamations, for instance, which suit the taste of a French audience, would make an Englishman yawn at Drury-lane house; and on the other, that force of a fable, that strength of plot, and variety of business which is requisite to entertain an English spectator, would be deemed impertinent or pantomimical, barbarous or unnatural, according as the piece happened to be comic or distressful, by the refining criticism of a Parisian theatre.

It is whimsical enough to hear our modern critics recommending the ancients to our imitation, as the great fathers of the drama, when they themselves acknowledge, that even the best tragedy of Sophocles would be banished indignantly from our stage; not because it would want either the fire of exalted genius, or the spirit of animated poetry, but because it would want that redundancy of business, that complication of incident, which alone can keep a British audience from manifesting a public disapprobation. A fine poem may be a very bad play; a fine play may be a very bad poem. Addison's Cato is the former-the versification is polished the sentiments elevated-the characters marked -the manners consistent-and the conduct critical.Yet with all these advantages, it languishes most miserably in the exhibition.-All our reverence for the author is necessary to restrain our disgust, and had not the political circumstances attending its orignal appearance, fortunately render it a favourite no less with the tories than the whigs, we are confident it could never have survived a second representation.

Yet even admitting that Sophocles, and the various celebrated tragic writers of antiquity abounded as much in incident, as they are notoriously deficient in that necessary article, there is one circumstance which would render them not only disagreeable, but ridiculous on our stage; the classical reader must see we allude to the chorusses of these poets, which are always offensive to common sense, and constantly destroying every idea of probability. About ten years ago a sensible satirical piece, entitled the Wishes; or, Harlequin's mouth opened, was performed in the summer season at Drury-Lane theatre, under the direction of Mr. Murphy and Foote.

The author of this ingenious performance introduced an episode, which illustrates the present observation relative to the Greek chorus very happily. The episode consisted of a mock tragedy, which was called Gunpowder Treason, and of which the supposed writer, Mr. Distress, made Guy Faux, naturally enough, the hero.When Guy comes to that passage, where he purposes to blow up the parliament house, the chorus exhorts him to reject so barbarous an enterprise, and makes use of all the arguments which are obviously applicable in such a situation. Guy however continues immoveably fixed, and prepares to execute his horrid resolution: On which one of the spectators inquires, why does not the chorus send for a constable, and carry the villain to a Justice of Peace. Mr. Distress answers something to this effect, “Poh, poh, that would be natural, and the chorus is never to discover a secret.".

When we see therefore, that the greatest of the Grecian poets are so generally destitute of business, as to be mostly dramatic conversations, and when we see the chorus, the vehicle, through which the argumentative part of their plays is chiefly conveyed, is thus ridicu lously fabricated, why are they eternally held up to us as objects of imitation? Are we to imitate what we know will be disapproved, or to copy an absurdity upon the authority of Sophocles or Euripides? Are we to croud our stage with chorusses, when the chief persons in the drama are talking in a soliloquy of something wholly improper for a second ear? Or to tell a number of humane people our design to commit a murder, without ever suffering their humanity to operate agreeably to the dictates of justice? In fact, highly as the Greek stage may at present be admired by the affectation of criticism, our own is upon a much better establishment.-It is not governed by the laws of composition, but by the principles of common sense. Whatever is repugnant to nature, is with us immediately condemned, and though we tole rate many scenes in favourite pieces, which are palpably unnatural, the beauties nevertheless must greatly exceed the imperfections, to obtain so considerable an indulgence at our hands.