attended the last year of his management, had contributed to quicken his refolution of leaving for a time his native country. His own, and Mrs. Garrick's health, were not fo firm as their friends and the public wifhed. The baths of Padua were celebrated for their healing power in certain disorders, and pronounced efficacious in Mrs. Garrick's cafe. Exercife, amufement and change of air were what her husband feemed principally to want. To a mind active and inquifitive, fuch as Mr. Garrick's, the knowledge of foreign customs would afford inftruction as well as entertainment. The theatres on the continent, with their multifarious exhibitions, might, in all probability, furnish him with proper materials to enrich his own dominions on his return home. His inclination to travel might gain additional ftrength from two other motives, very incidental to the human breaft; the defire of increafing his importance, by not being fo often feen; and convincing the public, that the fuccefs and fplendour of the ftage depended folely on himself. He fet out for Dover, in his way to Calais, the 15th of September, 1763, accompanied by Mrs. Garrick.'

In the next chapter, which is the thirty-third of the work, we have the history of the ftage during Mr. Garrick's abfence; including the introduction of Mr. Powell to the theatre, under the aufpices of Mr. Colman and Mr. Lacy.

The thirty-fourth chapter gives an account of Mr. Garrick's entertainment in France and Italy, where he was careffed by the moft illuftrious princes, and perfons of the firft diftinction of both fexes.

The thirty-fifth chapter continues Mr. Davies's view of the ftate of the theatre during Mr. Garrick's abfence; and in the thirtyfixth we again behold, on his own theatre, the favourite of the age. On the first night of his public appearance, he addressed the audience in a prologue, which he wrote for the occafion, and which he delivered with fo much humour and pleafantry, that he was obliged to fpeak it for ten fucceffive nights, amidst fuch loud and repeated applaufes, as no actor, perhaps, was ever welcomed with before.

The next thirteen chapters continue the hiftory of the stage, of actors, and of poets; including a sketch of the lives and deaths of Mr. Kelly, Dr. Goldsmith, Meffrs. Quin, Barry, Moffop, Havard Mrs. Clive, Mrs. Pritchard, &c. alfo a particular account of Mr. Cumberland and Mr. Foote.

Chapter XLIX. brings us to that period of Mr. Garrick's hiftory, when, by the death of Mr. Lacy, he became fole manager, viz. in the year 1773. He was now advanced to within a few years of fixty. He had been,' our author obferves, • much afflicted with chronical disorders, fometimes with the gout, but more often with the ftone and gravel, which never left him without an unkind token of a speedy return.' He did not, however, finish his dramatic race till the year 1776; when, after performing Don Felix in the Wonder, he took his leave of

the audience, in a manner fo pathetic and tender, as could not fail of powerfully exciting both the tears and acclamations of a moft crowded and brilliant affembly.

The fifty-fecond chapter carries on the narrative of Mr. Garrick's life, after his difpofal of his property in Drury-Lane theatre, to the beginning of the year 1779, when, to the great grief of his very numerous friends, and his innumerable admirers, he died at his houfe in the Adelphi. He was interred, with extraordinary magnificence, on the 1ft of February, in Weftminfter Abbey, near the monument of his beloved Shakespeare.

Our biographer concludes with a view of Mr. Garrick's general character; in which we have an estimate of his theatrical talents, compared with thofe of the greatest performers, either of his own age, or of former times; from the immortal Roscius, down to Wilkes, Booth, and Baron. In this parallel, Mr. Garrick's fame fuffers no diminution; and we think that Mr. Davies has, by his comparative obfervations, demonftrated his thorough acquaintance with the fubje&t.

Of Mr. Garrick's character in private life, we have al-, ready spoken at large, in the first part of our account of these Memoirs. We fhall now, therefore, take leave of a work which we have not regarded as an object of criticism, but as a fund of agreeable amufement, and interefting information :-for which the ingenious Author is entitled to our hearty acknow-" ledgement.

* We must not forget to obferve, that in this work, too, we have an account of the fhare which this benevolent man bore in the establishment and endowment of the Fund for the fupport of decayed Actors.'

ART. XI. Midnight the Signal. In Six Letters to a Lady of Qua-. lity. 12mo. 2 Vols. 5 s. fewed. Dodfley.

THE

HE evil which this Letter-writer has undertaken to reprove, is of confiderable magnitude'; and the fervency and intenseness of his zeal are every way proportionable to the copioufnefs of his fubject. Whatever has the leaft tendency to prove, the pernicioufnefs of late hours, either with refpect to prudence, health, or virtue, is here enumerated and examined in almoft every poffible point of view. It is but juftice to this Author to acknowledge, that he seems to write, whatever may be his opinions, not only from his immediate feelings, but also under the strongest conviction of the truth of what he has advanced. Nevertheless, it is to be feared, he only fights as one that beateth the air.' By this remark we mean not, however, to infinuate that this well-intended, and, let us add, not illexecuted, attempt is any otherwife feeble, than as the enormity,

I

which it is meant to oppofe, is invincible. It is to be doubted, whether even the eloquence of angels could influence the conduct of fashion: fubmiffive only to the dictates of caprice, and inattentive to every remonftrance of truth or reafon, she is truly the deaf adder that stoppeth her ears, refufing to hear the voice of the charmer, charm he never fo wifely.

The abfurdity of devoting to pleasure and bufinefs those hours which nature intended for repofe, and the reparation of animal life, is fuch as might aroufe the indignation of a more phlegmatic moralift than the Writer of thefe Letters. The folly of this procraftinating humour, the offspring of indolence and luxury, and the fruitful parent of numberlefs disorders both of mind and body, he has painted in its true colours.

The following paffages may ferve as fpecimens both of the Writer's arguments, and of his manner of enforcing them :

An evil difpofition may prevail in the mind; and evil deeds may accompany it, though we retire to reft with the fun. But there is a kind of heavenly temper in obeying the call of nature, expreffed in good hours; and the contrary difpofition appears in a striking point of view, in those who run retrograde to this order of things.

How ftrangely do we abufe the hours, by reverfing their order! Even the business of government, as directed by the great council of the nation, now generally begins when it should end. In many countries abroad, where I have travelled, the public officers are at their bufinefs, nearly with the first appearance of the fun; and they confider, that, the fooner they have done their work, the fooner their hours of amufement will commence. I know of no country where bad hours are fo much the ton as with us.

The custom of bad hours has many pernicious effects. It revolts against common charity in respect to the welfare of others. Whence arife the disorders of domeftic life? Come they not chiefly from bad hours? Hogarth has given us an admirable portrait of a morning, or rather a noon interview, between a fashionable pair, after a night's extravagance but this expreffes nothing of the fcene, in the earliest part of the night, among the fervants, male and female, who are left at home, kept from their reft, unawed by the eye of mafter or miftrefs. It defcribes nothing that is paffing abroad by mafter or miftrefs, coachman, footman, or chairman. What a fcene of diffipation is fpread around! If the ingenious artift had employed his pencil, if any pencil could reach the defcription,-what a display it would furnish!

Is not a great part of the bad principles, debaucheries, thefts, and infidelity found among many domeftics, owing to the bad hours kept by mafters and miftreffes? Those who pafs their days and nights in a manner fo hurtful to themselves, act injuriously to the community.'

The cuftom of bad hours wounds the fimplicity and purity of our manners! It is a departure from Sobriety, darkening the profpect of our comfort and peace; it fo bewilders the understanding, we cannot discover what we mean, nor why we are fo loft, as to act without a meaning.

REV. Nov. 1780.

'I will

I will prefume to tell you, that I had rather hear you were fo illadvised, as to retire to a nunnery when you again go to France, than that you fhould fubmit to become a dupe to the ton, or accomplished in the art and mystery of Squandering time.

If you should return next winter to vifit this grand abode of every thing that is, and is not good; the fight of you, like the "converfation of a friend, will brighten my eyes;" but unless you refolve to revolt from the ton, I fall receive a more exalted confolation, in hearing that you are determined to ftay in the North. Wherever you draw this vital air, feek for the friends of freedom of mind, detached from all party in f fhions, as well as politics, as your reafon may dictate. Be manly, generous, and pious; fear God, and exercise your charity but pay no fervile homage to dangerous or fantastical cuftoms. Act up to your own true fenfe of right, and in good time you will become an angel indeed!

You may be told, that things are not fo bad as your old friend reprefents them. I will venture to affure you, that several who are connected with my most intimate friends, are galloping through their eflates, and others are running into perdition! Follies unheard of by their forefathers are daily committed. Subjects are guilty of imperial extravagancy; as if each could command the purfe of the nation; and that this had no bottom. If it were proper, I could tell you of many, of whom your benignant heart has no fufpicion, living on the verge of penury. I expect to fee them fall, fall unpitied by those, whofe example has been the caufe of their ruin; and who, by infamous customs being grown callous to the fufferings of their own families, have no tears for the tale of another's woe! You will think this paffing ftrange, and wondrous pitiful, but fo it is!-Be on your guard!

" Nor fhould you wonder, when I tell you, that fuch fad events are happening, at a period when arts and refinements are carried to the most exalted height; and every thing which can adorn life, or render it pleafing, prefents itfelf to our hands and eyes. But here, alas! the venom lurks! The fancy is awakened by a profufe variety of objects: the paffions are inflamed with a multiplicity of defires: and the votaries to folly afk no affiftance from Heaven!-They seem abandoned to their destiny. Not having hearts to glorify the Giver of all good, they rather fpurn at his bounty: in real deed they feek their own mifery.

Your good heart may lead you to think, that moralists expect too much; that is, more than reafon and experience warrant, every age having furnished fo much caufe for complaint; but fuch are not able moralifts. You will please to confider, that it is of little moment to compare times. Are we now very faulty, and fhall we mend?-If we have lefs hypocrify than in fome times paft, I apprehend we abound more in impudence and infidelity. Our native fimplicity and honest firmness; our strong principles and courage, in maintaining truth, have given way to the ton. This abounding fo much in frivolity and extravagance, we can boaft but of few manly qualities, and hardly leave ourselves language for the defcription of modern follies.

In the whole catalogue of extravagant irregularities, late hours, or bad hours, feem to stand forth as both caufe and effect. Bad hours of

of rifing; bad hours of meals; bad hours of bufinefs; bad hours of amusement; bad hours for reft.-This habit has created fo pro-, craftinating a humour, no good can come of it! This undisciplined ftate, is, in effect, a contempt of time, unhinging the whole œconomy of life. Time refents the affront; and many who might have been the friends and protectors of the wretched, feel the hour when they are become incapable of doing any good to themfelves.

Cuftom is vulgarly denominated the law of fools; and it is the law of those who act on no higher principle. What is the ton? It is not virtue, nor fenfe; it is not prudence, economy, nor religion: it is the custom of those who fuffer themselves to be dupes to forms or modes of living, which have no foundation in reafon or religion; and confequently no tendency to promote private or public virtue. Whatever militates against both thefe, puts the ax to the root of moral rectitude and national felicity.'

ART. XII. A Difcourfe delivered to the Clergy of the Archdeaconry of Ely, on May the 9th and 10th, 1780. By Richard Watfon, D. D. F. R. S. Regias Profeffor of Divinity in the University of Cambridge, and Archdeacon of Ely. Cambridge printed, and fold by Rivington. 4to. 1780.

Some tents wit and humour, to throw a ridicule on the OME pert bantling of the Mufes hath lately exerted all his character and writings of Dr. Watfon. But where wit bears no proportion to malice, and the vivacity of humour' is ficklied o'er by the pale caft of Envy,' we feel difguft where the Author meant to afford us diverfion, and our esteem for Dr. Watfon is only confirmed by those arts which have been made ufe of to depreciate his merit. -But we would not produce an abortion to the view of the public. Let that which dropped dead-born from the prefs,' be buried where it fell!

The Difcourfe before us was delivered at Dr. W.'s primary archidiaconal vifitation. The Author makes a modeft apology for ftepping out of the common track purfued on fuch occafions, and hopes his zeal for the interefts of literature, and the honour of the university of Cambridge, will be admitted as a juft plea for the fingularity of his addrefs. The capital object of it is the recommendation of the study of Oriental languages-the ex-, cellence and advantage of which our learned Author hath dif played with a warmth and energy of addrefs peculiar to himself. Why (fays the Doctor) fhould the fine talents of those who have a turn for languages, be for ever confined to the making a few meagre additions to the learned labours of fuch as have gone before them, in publishing or commenting on the works of Greek and Roman authors, whilft the extenfive field of Arabic, Perfic, and Chinese literature, remains unknown, or unexplored 'We yet know nothing, or next to nothing, of the treasures of Eaftern learning; but from what we do know, there is no reason

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why