queft I would give them an exact Account of the Stature, the Mien, the Afpect of the Prince who lately vifited England, and has done fuch Wonders for the Liberty of Europe. It would puzzle the most Carious to form to himfelf the fort of Man my feveral Correfpondents expect to hear of, by the Action mentioned when they defire a Defcription of him: There is always fomething that concerns themselves, and growing out of their own Circumstances, in all their Inquiries. A Friend of mine in Wales befeeches me to be very exact in my Account of that wonderful Man, who had marched an Army and all its Baggage over the Alps; and, if poffible to learn whether the Peafant who fhewed him the Way, and is drawn in the Map, be yet living. A Gentleman from the Univerfity, who is deeply intent on the Study of Humanity, defires me to be as particular, if I had Opportunity, in obferving the whole Interview between his Highness and our late General. Thus do Mens Fancies work according to their feveral Educations and Circumstances; but all pay a Refpect, mixed with Admiration, to this illuftrious Character. I have waited for his Arrival in Holland, before I would let my Correfpondents know, that I have not been fo uncurious a Spectator, as not to have feen Prince Eugene. It would be very difficult, as I faid, juft now, to answer every Expectation of those who have writ to me on that Head; nor is it poffible for me, to find Words to let one know what an artful Glance there is in his Countenance who furprised Cremona; how daring he appears who forced the Trenches at Turin: But in general I can fay, that he who beholds him, will eafily expect from him any thing that is to be imagined or executed by the Wit or Force of Man. The Prince is of that Stature which makes a Man most easily become all Parts of Exercife, has Height to be graceful on Occafions of State and Ceremony, and no lefs adapted for Agility and Difpatch: his Afpect is erect and compos'd;. his Eye lively and thoughtful, yet rather vigilant than fparkling; his Action and Addrefs the most ealy imaginable, and his Behaviour in an Affembly peculiarly graceful in a certain Art of mixing infenfibly with the reft, and becoming one of the Company, inftead of receiving the Courtship of it. The Shape of his Perfon, and ComFofure

pofure of his Limbs, are remarkably exact and beautiful. There is in his Look fomething fublime, which does not seem to arife from his Quality or Character, but the innate Difpofition of his Mind. It is apparent that he fuffers the Prefence of much Company, instead of taking delight in it; and he appeared in Publick while with us, rather to return Good-will, or fatisfy Curiosity, than to gratify any Taste he himself had of being popular. As his Thoughts are never tumultuous in Danger, they are as little difcomposed on Occafions of Pomp and Magnificence: A great Soul is affected in either Cafe, no further than in confidering the propereft Methods to extricate it felf from them. If this Hero has the ftrong Incentives to uncommon Enterprizes that were remarka ble in Alexander, he profecutes and enjoys the Fame of them, with the Juftnefs, Propriety, and good Senfe of Cafar. It is eafy to obferve in him a Mind as capable of being entertained with Contemplation as Enterprize; a Mind ready for great Exploits, but not impatient for Occafions to exert it felf. The Prince has Wisdom and Valour in as high Perfection as Man can enjoy it; which noble Faculties in Conjunction, banish all Vain-glory, Oftentation, Ambition, and all other Vices which might intrude upon his Mind to make it unequal. Thefe Habits and Qualities of Soul and Body render this Perfonage fo extraordinary, that he appears to have nothing in him but what every Man fhould have in him, the Exertion of his very felf, abftracted from the Circumftances in which Fortune has placed him. Thus were you to fee Prince Eugene, and were told he was a private Gentleman, you would fay he is a Man of Modesty and Merit : Should you be told That was Prince Eugene, he would be diminished no otherwife, than that Part of your diftant Admiration would turn into familiar Good-will. This I thought fit to entertain my Reader with, concerning an Hero who never was equalled but by one Man; over whom alfo he has this Advantage, that he has had an Opportunity to manifeft an Efteem for him in his Adversity.

T

Tuesday,

N° 341.

Tuesday, April 1.

Revocate animos, maflumque timorem

Mittite

Virg.

TAVING, to oblige my Correfpondent Phyfibulus,

H printed his Letter laft Friday, in relation to the

new Epilogue, he cannot take it amifs, if I now publish another, which I have juft received from a Gentleman who does not agree with him in his Sentiments upon that Matter.

SIR,

I

Am amazed to find an Epilogue attacked in your last Friday's Paper, which has been fo generally applauded by the Town, and received fuch Honours as were never before given to any in an English Theatre.

THE Audience would not permit Mrs. Oldfield to go off the Stage the first Night, till fhe had repeated it twice; the fecond Night the Noife of Ancora's was as ⚫ loud as before, and fhe was again obliged to fpeak it twice: the third Night it was called for a fecond time; ⚫ and, in fhort, contrary to all other Epilogues, which are dropt after the third Representation of the Play, this has already been repeated nine times.

I must own I am the more furprized to find this Cenfure in oppofition to the whole Town, in a Paper which has hitherto been famous for the Candour of its • Criticisms.

I can by no means allow your melancholy Correfpondent, that the new Epilogue is unnatural because it is gay. If I had a mind to be learned, I could tell ⚫ him that the Prologue and Epilogue were real Parts of ⚫ the ancient Tragedy; but every one knows that on the British Stage they are diftinct Performances by themfelves, Pieces intirely detached from the Play, and no way effential to it.

THE

THE moment the Play ends, Mrs. Oldfield is no more Andromache, but Mrs. Oldfield; and tho' the Poet had left Andromache flone-dead upon the Stage, as your ingenious Correspondent phrases it, Mrs. Oldfield might • ftill have spoke a merry Epilogue. We have an In• ftance of this in a Tragedy where there is not only a • Death but a Martyrdom. St. Catharine was there perfonated by Nell Gwin; fhe lies fone-dead upon the Stage, ⚫ but upon those Gentlemens offering to remove her Body, whofe Business it is to carry off the Slain in our English Tragedies, the breaks out into that abrupt Beginning of what was a very ludicrous, but at the fame time thought a very good Epilogue.

Hold, are you mad? you damn'd confounded Dog,
I am to rife and fpeak the Epilogue.

THIS diverting Manner was always practifed by Mr. Dryden, who, if he was not the best Writer of Tragedies in his Time, was 'allow'd by every one to have the happieft Turn for a Prologue or an Epilogue. The Epilogues to Cleomenes, Don Sebaftian, The Duke of Guife, Aurengzebe, and Love Triumphant, are all • Precedents of this Nature.

⚫ I might further juftify this Practice by that excellent Epilogue which was fpoken a few Years fince, after the Tragedy of Phaedra and Hippolitus; with a great many others, in which the Authors have endeavoured to ⚫ make the Audience merry. If they have not all fuc⚫ceeded fo.well as the Writer of this, they have however ⚫ fhewn that it was not for want of Good-will.

¢

I muft further obferve, that the Gaiety of it may be ⚫ftill the more proper, as it is at the End of a French Play; fince every one knows that Nation, who are ge⚫nerally esteemed to have as polite a Tafte as any in Europe, always clofe their Tragick Entertainments with what they call a Petite Piece, which is purposely defign'd to raise Mirth, and send away the Audience wellpleased. The fame Person who has fupported the chief Character in the Tragedy, very often plays the principal Part in the Petite Piece; fo that I have my felf feen at Paris, Oreftes and Lubin acted the fame Night by the fame Man.

TRAGI-COMEDY, indeed, you have your felf in a former Speculation found fault with very justly, ⚫ because it breaks the Tide of the Paffions while they are yet flowing; but this is nothing at all to the prefent • Cafe, where they have already had their full Course.

6

As the new Epilogue is written conformable to the Practice of our beft Poets, fo it is not fuch an one which, as the Duke of Buckingham fays in his Rebearfal, might ferve for any other Play; but wholly rifes out of the Occurrences of the Piece it was compofed for.

THE only Reafon your mournful Correfpondent gives against this Facetious Epilogue, as he calls it, is, that he has a mind to go home melancholy. I wish the • Gentleman may not be more grave than wife. For my own part, I must confefs I think it very fufficient to have the Anguish of a fictitious Piece remain upon me while it is reprefenting, but I love to be fent home to bed in a good Humour. If Phyfibulus is however refolv'd to be inconfolable, and not to have his Tears • dried up, he need only continue his old Custom, and when he has had his half Crown's worth of Sorrow, flink out before the Epilogue begins.

6

IT is pleafant enough to hear this Tragical Genius complaining of the great Mischief Andromache had done him: What was that? Why, the made him laugh, The poor Gentleman's Sufferings put me in mind of Harlequin's Cafe, who was tickled to death. He tells us foon after, thro' a fmall Mistake of Sorrow for Rage, that during the whole Action he was fo very forry, that he thinks he could have attack'd half a fcore of the fierceft Mohocks in the Excefs of his Grief. I cannot but look upon it as an happy Accident, that a Man who is fo bloody-minded in his Affliction, was diverted from this Fit of outrageous Melancholy. The Valour of this Gentleman in his Diftrefs brings to one's Memory the Knight of the forrowful Countenance, who lays about him at fuch an unmerciful rate in an old Romance. I fhall readily grant him that his Soul, as he himself fays, ⚫ would have made a very ridiculous Figure, had it quitted the Body, and defcended to the Pactical Shades, in such an Encounter.

AS