his invention to enrich with the greatest variety of character and incident, and his judgment to charm, not only by the propriety and grace of particular parts, but by the order, harmony, and congruity of the whole: to this high excellence he made strong approaches in the Joseph Andrews; and in the Tom Jones he has fairly borne away the palm. In the progress of Henry Fielding's talents there seems to have been three remarkable periods; one when his genius broke forth at once with an effulgence superior to all the rays of light it had before emitted, like the sun in his morning glory, without the ardour and the blaze which afterwards attend him; the second, when it was displayed with collected force, and a fulness of perfection, like the sun in meridian majesty, with all his highest warmth and splendour; and the third, when the same genius, cheer and enliven, but showed at the same time that it was tending to its decline, like the same sun abating from his ardour, but still gilding the western hemisphere. and all in the highest degree, in those of Socrates | colouring, his wit to enliven by the happiest allusions, and Brutus; and, perhaps, in some among us. I at least know one to whom nature could have added no one great or good quality more than she hath bestowed on him. Here, then, appear three distinct characters; the great, the good, and the great and good. The last of these is the true sublime in human nature; that elevation, by which the soul of man, raising and extending itself above the order of this creation, and brightened with a certain ray of divinity, looks down on the condition of mortals. This is indeed a glorious object, on which we can never gaze with too much praise and admiration. A perfect work! the Iliad of nature! ravishing and astonishing, and which at once fills us with love, with wonder, and delight. The second falls greatly short of this perfection, and yet hath its merit. Our wonder ceases; our delight is lessened; but our love remains: of which passion goodness hath always ap-grown more cool and temperate, still continued to peared to me the only true and proper object. On this head, it may be proper to observe, that I do not conceive my good man to be absolutely a fool or a coward; but that he often partakes too little of parts or courage to have any pretensions to greatness. Now, as to that greatness, which is totally devoid of goodness, it seems to me in nature to resemble the false sublime in poetry; where bombast is, by the ignorant and ill-judging vulgar, often mistaken for solid wit and eloquence, whilst it is in effect the very reverse. Thus pride, ostentation, insolence, cruelty, and every kind of villany, are often construed into true greatness of mind, in which we always include an idea of goodness. This bombast greatness, then, is the character I intend to expose; and the more this prevails in, and deceives the world, taking to itself not only riches and power, but often honour, or at least the shadow of it, the more necessary it is to strip the monster of these false colours, and show it in its native deformity; for, by suffering vice to possess the reward of virtue, we do a double injury to society, by encouraging the former, and taking away the chief incentive to the latter. Nay, though it is, I believe, impossible to give vice a true relish of honour and glory, or, though we give it riches and power, to give it the enjoyment of them, yet it contaminates the food it cannot taste, and sullies the robe, which neither fits nor becomes it, till virtue discains them both." To these three epochas of our author's genius, the reader will be beforehand with me in observing that there is an exact correspondence in the Joseph Andrews, Tom Jones, and Amelia. Joseph Andrews, as the preface to the work informs us, was intended for an imitation of the style and manner of Cervantes : and how delightfully he has copied the humour, the gravity, and the fine ridicule of his master, they can witness who are acquainted with both writers.* The truth is, Fielding, in his performance, was employed in the very province for which his talents were peculiarly and happily formed; namely, the fabulous narration of some imagined action which did occur, or might probably have occurred, in human life. Nothing could be more happily conceived than the character of Parson Adams for the principal personage of the work; the humanity and benevolence of affection, the goodness of heart, and the zeal for virtue, which come from him upon all occasions, attach us to Mr. Adams in the most endearing manner; his excellent talents, his erudition, and his real acquirements of knowledge in classical antiquity and the sacred writings, together with his honesty, command our esteem and respect; while his simplicity and innocence in the ways of men provoke our smiles by the contrast they bear to his real intellectual character, and conduce to make him in the highest manner the object of mirth, without degrading him in our estimation, by the many ridiculous embarrassments to which they every now and then make him liable; and, to crown the whole, that habitual absence of mind, which is his predominant foible, and which never fails to give a tinge to whatever he is about, makes the honest clergyman almost a rival of the renowned Don Quixote; the adventures he is led into, in consequence of this infirmity, assuming something of the romantic air which accompanies the knight-errant, and the circumstances of his forgetfulness tending as strongly to excite our laughter as the mistakes of the Spanish hero. I will venture to say that, when Don Quixote mistakes the barber's basin for Mambrino's helmet, no reader ever found the Thus hath our author developed the design with which he wrote the history of Jonathan Wild; a noble purpose, surely, and of the highest importance to society. A satire like this, which at once strips of the spurious ornaments of hypocrisy, and shows the genuine beauty of the moral character, will be always worthy of the attention of the reader, who desires to rise wiser or better from the book he peruses; not to mention that this performance hath, in many places, such seasonings of humour, that it cannot fail to be a very high entertainment to all who have a taste for exhibitions of the absurd and ridiculoas in human life. But though the merit of the Life of Jonathan Wild be very considerable, yet it must be allowed to be very short of that higher order of composition which our author attained in his other pieces of invention. Hitherto he seems but preludng, as it were, to some great work, in which all the component parts of his genius were to be seen in their full and vigorous exertion; in which his imagination was to strike us by the most lively and just Acter * Fielding's ridicule is of a very different species from that of Cervantes. Dr. Warton thinks it difficult to say why Fielding should call this novel an imitation of that truly original author.-C. In the plan of the work, Mr. Fielding did not form to himself a circle wide enough for the abundance of his imagination; the main action was too trivial and unimportant to admit of the variety of characters and events which the reader generally looks for in such productions: the attainment of perfection in this kind of writing was in reserve for Mr. Fielding in a future work. Soon after the publication of Joseph Andrews, the last comedy which came from this writer's pen was exhibited on the stage, entitled The Wedding Day : and, as we have already observed, it was attended with an indifferent share of success. The law, from this time, had its hot and cold fits with him: he pursued it by starts; and after frequent intermissions, which are ever fatal in this profession, in which whoever is situated, is, for a long time, in the condition of the boatman described in the Georgics, working his way against the stream, and, if he should by chance remit from his labour, he is rapidly carried back, and loses from the progress he had made: -si brachia forte remisit, situation more ridiculous and truly comic than Par- | tinency which are the characteristics of his sister.* son Adams's travelling to London to sell a set of sermons, and actually snapping his fingers, and taking two or three turns round the room in ecstacy, when introduced to a bookseller in order to make an immediate bargain; and then immediately after, not being able to find those same sermons, when he exclaims "I profess, I believe I left them behind me." There are many touches in the conduct of this character, which occasion the most exquisite merriment; and I believe it will not be found too bold an assertion, if we say that the celebrated character of an absent man, by La Bruyere, is extremely short of that true and just resemblance to nature, with which our author has delineated the features of Adams: the former, indeed, is carried to an agreeable extravagance, but the latter has the fine lights and shades of probability. It will not be improper here to mention, that the Rev. Mr. Young, a learned and much esteemed friend of Mr. Fielding's, sat for this picture. Mr. Young was remarkable for his intimate acquaintance with the Greek authors, and had as passionate a veneration for Eschylus as Parson Adams; the overflowings of his benevolence were as Atque illum in præceps prono rapit alveus amni. strong, and his fits of reverie were as frequent, and occurred too upon the most interesting occasions. These occasional relaxations of industry Mr. FieldOf this last observation a singular instance is given ing felt, and he also felt the inconveniences of them; by a gentleman who served, during the last war in which was the more severe upon him, as voluntary Flanders, in the very same regiment to which Mr. and wilful neglect could not be charged upon him. Young was chaplain. On a fine summer's evening, The repeated shocks of illness disabled him from he thought proper to indulge himself in his love of a being as assiduous an attendant at the bar as his own solitary walk; and accordingly he sallied forth from inclination, and patience of the most laborious applihis tent. The beauties of the hemisphere, and the cation, would otherwise have made him. Besides landscape round him, pressed warmly on his imagi- the demands for expense, which his valetudinarian nation; his heart overflowed with benevolence to all habit of body constantly made upon him, he had likeGod's creatures, and gratitude to the Supreme Dis-wise a family to maintain; from business he derived penser of that emanation of glory which covered the little or no supplies; and his prospects, therefore, face of things. It is very possible that a passage in his dearly beloved Eschylus occurred to his memory these discouraging circumstances, if we add the ingrew every day more gloomy and melancholy. To on this occasion, and seduced his thoughts into a profound meditation. Whatever was the object of firmity of his wife, whom he loved tenderly, and the his reflections, certain it is that something did power- tions will be well nigh full. To see her daily languishagonies he felt on her account, the measure of his afflicfully seize his imagination, so as to preclude all at-ing and wearing away before his eyes, was too much tention to things that lay immediately before him; and, in that deep fit of absence, Mr. Young proceeded on his journey till he arrived very quietly and calmly in the enemy's camp, where he was, with difficulty, brought to a recollection of himself, by the repetition of Qui va la? from the soldiers upon duty The officer who commanded, finding that he had strayed thither in the undesigning simplicity of his heart, and seeing an innate goodness in his prisoner, which commanded his respect, very politely gave him leave to pursue his contemplations home again. Such was the gentleman from whom the idea of Parson Adams was derived; how it is interwoven into the History of Joseph Andrews, and how sustained with unabating pleasantry to the conclusion, need not be mentioned here, as it is sufficiently felt and acknowledged. The whole work indeed abounds with situations of the truly comic kind; the incidents and characters are unfolded with fine turns of surprise; and it is among the few works of invention, produced by the English writers, which will always continue in request. But still it is but the sunrise of our author's genius.-The hint, it seems, was suggested to him by the success of the late Mr. Richardson's history of Pamela Andrews: Joseph is here represented as her brother, and he boasts the same virtue and con When for a man of his strong sensations; the fortitude of *This is not all. Borrowing the hint might have been pardonable, and even felt as a compliment by Richard son; but the truth is, Joseph Andrews was written to ridicule Pamela, who, in the latter chapter, is made to assume a conduct and language befitting "the beggar on horseback." This Richardson never forgave. In his Correspondence, lately published, wherever he has occasion to mention Fielding, it is with rancour or contempt, and his correspondents, who seem to have con spired to flatter him into dotage, repeat his sentiments with profound acquiescence.-C. executed in the year 1715, when the nation laboured | could not lie still; but he found leisure to amuse himunder the same difficulties, by the celebrated Mr. self, and afterwards the world, with the History of Addison, who afterwards rose to be secretary of state. Tom Jones. And now we are arrived at the second The Freeholder, by that elegant writer, contains, no grand epoch of Mr. Fielding's genius, when all his doubt, many seasonable animadversions, and a deli- faculties were in perfect unison, and conspired to procate vein of wit and raillery: but it may be pro- duce a complete work. If we consider Tom Jones nounced with safety, that in the True Patriot there in the same light in which the ablest critics have exwas displayed a solid knowledge of the British laws amined the Iliad, the Eneid, and the Paradise Lost, and government, together with occasional sallies of namely, with a view to the fable, the manners, the humour, which would have made no inconsiderable sentiments, and the style, we shall find it standing figure in the political compositions of an Addison or the test of the severest criticism, and indeed bearing a Swift. The Jacobite Journal was calculated to dis- away the envied praise of a complete performance. credit the shattered remains of an unsuccessful party, In the first place, the action has that unity which is and, by a well applied raillery and ridicule, to bring the boast of the great models of composition; it turns the sentiments of the disaffected into contempt, and upon a single event, attended with many circumthereby efface them, not only from the conversation, stances, and many subordinate incidents, which seem, but the minds of men. in the progress of the work, to perplex, to entangle, and to involve the whole in difficulties, and lead on the reader's imagination, with an eagerness of curio Our author, by this time, attained the age of fortythree; and being incessantly pursued by reiterated attacks of the gout, he was wholly rendered incapasity, through scenes of prodigious variety, till at ble of pursuing the business of a barrister any longer. length the different intricacies and complications of He was obliged, therefore, to accept an office, which the fable are explained, after the same gradual manseldom fails of being hateful to the populace, and, of ner in which they had been worked up to a crisis; course, liable to many injurious imputations; namely, incident arises out of incident; the seeds of every an acting magistrate in the commission of the peace thing that shoots up are laid with a judicious hand; for Middlesex. That he was not inattentive to the and whatever occurs in the latter part of the story, calls of his duty, and that, on the contrary, he la- seems naturally to grow out of those passages which boured to be a useful citizen, is evident from the many preceded; so that, upon the whole, the business, tracts he published* relating to several of the penal with great propriety and probability, works itself up laws, and to the vices and malpractices which those into various embarrassments, and then afterwards, laws were intended to restrain. Under this head by a regular series of events, clears itself from all will be found several valuable pieces; particularly a impediments, and brings itself inevitably to a concluCharge to the Grand Jury, delivered at Westminster, sion; like a river, which, in its progress, foams on the 29th of June, 1749. In this little work, the amongst fragments of rocks, and for a while seems history of grand juries, from their origin, and the pent up by unsurmountable oppositions; then angrily wise intention of them for the cognizance of abuse, dashes for a while, then plunges under ground into and the safety of the subject, are thought to be caverns, and runs a subterraneous course, till at traced with no small skill and accuracy. The pam-length it breaks out again, and meanders round the phlet on the Increase and Cause of Robberies, has been country, and with a clear, placid stream flows gently held in high estimation by some eminent persons who into the ocean. By this artful management, our auhave administered justice in Westminster Hall, and thor has given us the perfection of fable; which, as still continue to serve their country in a legislative the writers upon the subject have justly observed, capacity. It has been already observed, that he left consists in such obstacles to retard the final issue of behind him two volumes of crown law: and it will the whole, as shall at last, in their consequences, not be improper to mention, in this place, a pam- accelerate the catastrophe, and bring it evidently and phlet, entitled A Proposal for the Maintenance of the necessarily to that period only, which, in the nature Poor; which, though it is not reprinted in this collec- of things, could arise from it; so that the action could tion, not being deemed of a colour with works of in- not remain in suspense any longer, but must naturally vention and genius, yet it does honour to our author close and determine itself. It may be proper to add, as a magistrate; as it could not be produced without that no fable whatever affords, in its solution, such intense application, and an ardent zeal for the ser- artful states of suspense, beautiful turns of survice of the community. prise, such unexpected incidents, and such sudden discoveries, sometimes apparently embarrassing, but always promising the catastrophe, and eventually promoting the completion of the whole. Vida, the celebrated critic of Italy, has transmitted down to us, in his art of poetry, a very beautiful idea of a well-concerted fable, when he represents the reader of it in the situation of a traveller to a distant town, who, when he perceives but a faint shadowy glimmering of its walls, its spires, and its edifices, pursues his journey with more alacrity than when he cannot see any appearances to notify the place to which he is tending, but is obliged to pursue a melancholy and forlorn road, through a depth of valleys, without any object to flatter or to raise his expectation. Amidst these severe exercises of his understanding, and all the laborious duties of his office, his invention Among these was a pamphlet entitled, " Examples of the Interposition of Providence in the Detection and Penishment of Murder, with an Introduction and Conclusion," 1752. He advertised this repeatedly in his Covent-Garden Journal, and appears to have conceived great hopes of its usefulness among the lower orders. The public mind was at that time much disturbed by murders committed with a degree of barbarity, neither usual nor characteristic of this country. The Proposal for the Maintenance of the Poor," noticed by Mr. Murphy, appears to be among the first suggestions of a county work-house, in which the different objects of industry and reformation might be united. He wrote also a pamphlet on the case of Elizabeth Canning, which was answered by Dr. (afterwards Sir John) Hill, between whom and our author there was a frequent interchange of animosities. See Hill's "Inspector," No. 128, a most absurd specimen of self-confidence.-C. Haud aliter, longinqua petit qui forte viator Nunc etiam dubias oculis videt, incipit ultro with a just detestation of imposture, hypocrisy, and all specious pretences to uprightness. There is perhaps, no province of the Comic Muse that requires so great a variety of style as this kind of description of men and manners, in which Mr. Fielding so much delighted. The laws of the mockepic, in which this species of writing is properly included, demand, that, when trivial things are to be represented with a burlesque air, the language should be raised into a sort of tumour of dignity, that, by the contrast between the ideas and the pomp in which they are exhibited, they may appear the more ridiculous to our imaginations. Of our author's talent in this way, there are instances in almost every chapter; and were we to assign a particular example, we should refer to the relation of a battle in the Homerican style. On the other hand, when matters, in appearance, of higher moment, but, in reality, attended with incongruous circumstances, are to be set forth in the garb of ridicule which they deserve, it is necessary that the language should be proportionably lowered, and that the metaphors and epithets made use of be transferred from things of a meaner nature, that so the false importance of the object described may fall into a gay contempt. The first specimen of this manner that occurs to me is in the Jonathan Wild: "For my own part," says he, "I confess I look on this death of hanging to be as proper for a In the execution of this plan, thus regular and uniform, what a variety of humorous scenes of life, of descriptions, and characters, has our author found means to incorporate with the principal action; and this, too, without distracting the reader's attention with objects foreign to his subject, or weakening the general interest by a multiplicity of episodical events? Still observing the grand essential rule of unity in the design, I believe no author has introduced a greater diversity of characters, or displayed them more fully, or in more various attitudes. Allworthy is the most amiable picture in the world of a man who does honour to his species: in his own heart he finds constant propensities to the most benevolent and generous actions, and his understanding conducts him with discretion in the performance of whatever his goodness suggests to him. And though it is apparent that the author laboured this portrait con amore, and meant to offer it to mankind as a just object of imitation, he has soberly restrained himself within the bounds of probability, nay, it may be said, of strict truth; as, in the general opinion, he is supposed to have copied here the features of a worthy character still in being.* Nothing can be more en-hero as any other; and I solemnly declare, that, had tertaining than Western; his rustic manners, his natural undisciplined honesty, his half-enlightened understanding, with the self-pleasing shrewdness which accompanies it, and the bias of his mind to mistaken politics, are all delineated with precision and fine humour. The sisters of those two gentlemen are aptly introduced, and give rise to many agreeable scenes. Tom Jones will at all times be a fine lesson to young men of good tendencies to virtue, who yet suffer the impetuosity of their passions to hurry them away. Thwackum and Square are excellently opposed to each other; the former is a well drawn picture of a divine who is neglectful of the moral part of his character, and ostentatiously talks of religion and grace; the latter is a strong ridicule of those who have high ideas of the dignity of our nature, and of the native beauty of virtue, without owning any obligations of conduct from religion. But grace, without practical goodness, and the moral fitness of things, are shown, with a fine vein of ridicule, to be but weak principles of action. In short, all the characters down to Partridge, and even to a maid or an hostler at an inn, are drawn with truth and humour; and indeed they abound so much, and are so often brought forward in a dramatic manner, that every thing may be said to be here in action; every thing has manners; and the very manners which belong to it in human life. They look, they act, they speak to our imaginations, just as they appear to us in the world. The sentiments which they utter are peculiarly annexed to their habits, passions and ideas; which is what poetical propriety requires; and, to the honour of the author, it must be said, that whenever he addresses us in person, he is always in the interests of virtue and religion, and inspires, in a strain of moral reflection, a true love of goodness and honour, *Ralph Allen, Esq. of Prior Park. Fielding, while writing this novel, lived at Tiverton, in the neighbour. hood, and dined every day at Allen's table. Graves's Anecdotes of Allen.-C. Alexander the Great been hanged, it would not in the least have diminished my respect to his memory." A better example of what is here intended might, no doubt, be chosen, as things of this nature may be found almost every where in Tom Jones, or Joseph Andrews; but the quotation here made will serve to illustrate, and that is sufficient. The mock-epic has likewise frequent occasion for the gravest irony, for florid description, for the true sublime, for the pathetic, for clear and perspicuous narrative, for poignant satire, and generous panegyric. For all these different modes of eloquence, Mr. Fielding's genius was most happily versatile; and his power in all of them is so conspicuous that he may justly be said to have had the rare skill, required by Horace, of giving to each part of his work its true and proper colouring. -Servare vices, operumque colores. In this consists the specific quality of fine writing; and thus, our author being confessedly eminent in all the great essentials of composition, in fable, character, sentiment, and elocution; and as these could not be all united in so high an assemblage, without a rich invention, a fine imagination, an enlightened judgment, and a lively wit, we may fairly here decide his character, and pronounce him the English Cervantes. It may be added, that in many parts of the Tem Jones we find our author possessed the softer graces of character-painting, and of description; many situations and sentiments are touched with a delicate hand; and throughout the work he seems to feel as much delight in describing the amiable part of human nature, as in his early days he had in exaggerating the strong and harsh features of turpitude and deformity. This circumstance breathes an air of philanthropy through his work, and renders it an image of truth, as the Roman orator calls a comedy. And hence it arose, from this truth of character which prevails in Tom Jones, in conjunction with the other qualities of the writer above set forth, that the suf- | hazardous and daring in his metaphors, which was frage of the most learned critic* of this nation was given to our author, when he says, "Mons. de Marivaux in France, and Mr. Fielding in England, stand the foremost among those who have given a faithful and chaste copy of life and manners, and, by enriching their romance with the best part of the comic art, may be said to have brought it to perfection." Such a favourable decision, from so able a judge, will do honour to Mr. Fielding with posterity; and the excellent genius of the person with whom he has paralleled him, will reflect the truest praise on the author who was capable of being his illustrious rival. The observed to him, lest his example, and the connivance manner unexpected, it works itself clear, and comes by natural but unforeseen incidents, to a termination. Marivaux possessed rare and fine talents: he was an attentive observer of mankind, and the transcripts he made from thence are the image of truth. At his reception into the French Academy, he was told, in an elegant speech made by the Archbishop of Sens, that the celebrated La Bruyere seemed to be revived in him, and to retrace with his pencil those admirable portraits of men and manners, which formerly unmasked so many characters, and exposed their vanity and affectation. Marivaux seems never so happy as when he is reprobating the false pretences of assumed characters: the dissimulation of friends, the policy of the ambitious, and the littleness and ar-rises gradually into tumult and perplexity, till in a rogance of the great, the insolence of wealth, the arts of the courtezan, the impertinence of foppery, the refined foibles of the fair sex, the dissipation of youth, the gravity of false importance, the subtleties of hypocrisy and exterior religion, together with all the delicacies of real honour, and the sentiments of true virtue, are delineated by him in a lively and striking manner. He was not contented merely to copy their appearances; he went still deeper, and searched for all the internal movements of their passions with a curiosity that is always penetrating, but sometimes appears over solicitous, and, as the critic expresses it, ultra perfectum trahi. It is not intended by this to insinuate that he exceeds the bounds of truth; but occasionally he seems to refine till the traces grow minute and almost imperceptible. He is a painter who labours his portraits with a careful and scrupulous hand; he attaches himself to them with affection; knows not when to give over, nescivit quod bene cessit, relinquere, but continues touching and retouching, till his traits become so delicate, that they at length are without efficacy, and the attention of the connoisseur is tired before the diligence of the artist is wearied. But this refinement of Marivaux is apologized for by the remark of the epic poet, who observes that this kind of inquiry is In this last-mentioned particular, Fielding boasts a manifest superiority over Marivaux. Uniformity amidst variety is justly allowed in all works of invention to be the prime source of beauty, and it is the peculiar excellence of Tom Jones. The author, for the most part, is more readily satisfied in his drawings of character than the French writer; the strong specific qualities of his personages he sets forth with a few masterly strokes, but the nicer and more subtle workings of the mind he is not so anxious to investigate; when the passions are agitated, he can give us their conflicts, and their various transitions, but he does not always point out the secret cause that sets them in motion, or, in the poet's language," the small pebble that stirs the peaceful lake." Fielding was more attached to the manners than to the heart: in descriptions of the former he is admirable; in unfolding the latter he is not equal to Marivaux. In the management of his story, he piques and awakens curiosity more strongly than his rival of France; when he interests and excites our affections, he sometimes operates more by the force of situation than by the tender pathetic of sentiment, for which the author of Marianne is remarkable; not that it must be imagined that Fielding wanted these qualities; we have already said the reverse of him; but, in these particulars, Marivaux has the preference. In point of If, therefore, he sometimes seems over curious, it is style he is more unexceptionable than Marivaux, the the nature of the subject that allures him; and, in critics never having objected to him that his figures general, he greatly recompenses us for the unwilling- are forced or unnatural; and in humour the praise of ness he shows to quit his work, by the valuable illus-pre-eminence is entirely his. Marivaux was detertrations he gives it, and the delicacy with which he mined to have an air of originality, and therefore dismarks all the finer features of the mind. His diction, dained to form himself upon any eminent mode of it must not be dissembled, is sometimes, but not often, preceding writers; Fielding considered the rules of far-fetched and strained; and it was even objected to composition as delivered by the great philosophic him in the speech already mentioned, of the Arch-critic; and finding that Homer had written a work bishop of Sens, that his choice of words was not always pure and legitimate. Each phrase, and often each word, is a sentence; but he was apt to be Like following life through insects we dissect; Dr. Warburton. entitled Mar tes, which bore the same relation to comedy that the Iliad or Odyssey does to tragedy, he The best critics are inclined to consider Margites as a forgery.-C. |