I shall adventure to affirm this of the Sentiments of our author, that they are generally the most familiar which I have ever met with, and at the same time delivered with the highest dignity of phrase; which brings me to speak of his diction. Here I shall only beg one postulatum, viz., That the greatest perfection of the language of a tragedy is, that it is not to be understood; which granted (as I think it must be), it will necessarily follow that the only way to avoid this is by being too high or too low for the understanding, which will comprehend everything within its reach. Those two extremities of stile Mr Dryden illustrates by the familiar image of two inns, which I shall term the aerial and the subterrestrial.

Horace goes farther, and sheweth when it is proper to call at one of these inns, and when at the other:

  Telephus et Peleus, cum pauper et exul uterque,
  Projicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba.

That he approveth of the sesquipedalia verba is plain; for, had not Telephus and Peleus used this sort of diction in prosperity, they could not have dropt it in adversity. The aerial inn, therefore (says Horace), is proper only to be frequented by princes and other great men in the highest affluence of fortune; the subterrestrial is appointed for the entertainment of the poorer sort of people only, whom Horace advises,

—dolere sermone pedestri.

The true meaning of both which citations is, that bombast is the proper language for joy, and doggrel for grief; the latter of which is literally implied in the sermo pedestris, as the former is in the sesquipedalia verba.

Cicero recommendeth the former of these: "Quid est tarn furiosum vel tragicum quam verborum sonitus inanis, nulla subjecta sententia neque scientia." What can be so proper for tragedy as a set of big sounding words, so contrived together as to convey no meaning? which I shall one day or other prove to be the sublime of Longinus. Ovid declareth absolutely for the latter inn:

Omne genus scripti gravitate tragoedia vincit.

Tragedy hath, of all writings, the greatest share in the bathos; which is the profound of Scriblerus.

I shall not presume to determine which of these two stiles be properer for tragedy. It sufficeth, that our author excelleth in both. He is very rarely within sight through the whole play, either rising higher than the eye of your understanding can soar, or sinking lower than it careth to stoop. But here it may perhaps be observed that I have given more frequent instances of authors who have imitated him in the sublime than in the contrary. To which I answer, first, Bombast being properly a redundancy of genius, instances of this nature occur in poets whose names do more honour to our author than the writers in the doggrel, which proceeds from a cool, calm, weighty way of thinking. Instances whereof are most frequently to be found in authors of a lower class. Secondly, That the works of such authors are difficultly found at all. Thirdly, That it is a very hard task to read them, in order to extract these flowers from them. And lastly, it is very difficult to transplant them at all; they being like some flowers of a very nice nature, which will flourish in no soil but their own: for it is easy to transcribe a thought, but not the want of one. The EARL OF ESSEX, for instance, is a little garden of choice rarities, whence you can scarce transplant one line so as to preserve its original beauty. This must account to the reader for his missing the names of several of his acquaintance, which he had certainly found here, had I ever read their works; for which, if I have not a just esteem, I can at least say with Cicero, "Quae non contemno, quippe quae nunquam legerim." However, that the reader may meet with due satisfaction in this point, I have a young commentator from the university, who is reading over all the modern tragedies, at five shillings a dozen, and collecting all that they have stole from our author, which shall be shortly added as an appendix to this work.

DRAMATIS PERSONAe.

MEN.

King Arthur, a passionate sort of king, | husband to queen Dollallolla, of whom he | stands a little in fear; father to Huncamunca,| Mr MULLART. whom he is very fond of, and in love with | Glumdalca. |

Tom Thumb the Great, a little hero | with a great soul, something violent in his | YOUNG temper, which is a little abated by his | VERHUYCK. love for Huncamunca. |

Ghost of Gaffer Thumb, a whimsical sort | Mr LACY. of ghost. |

Lord Grizzle, extremely zealous for the | liberty of the subject, very cholerick in his | Mr JONES. temper, and in love with Huncamunca. |

Merlin, a conjurer, and in some sort | Mr HALLAM.
  father to Tom Thumb. |

Noodle, Doodle, courtiers in place, and | Mr REYNOLDS,
  consequently of that party that is uppermost | Mr WATHAN.

Foodle, a courtier that is out of place, | and consequently of that party that is | Mr AYRES. undermost |

Bailiff, and Follower, of the party of | Mr PETERSON, the plaintiff. | Mr HICKS.

Parson, of the side of the church. | Mr WATSON.

WOMEN.

Queen Dollallolla, wife to king Arthur, | and mother to Huncamunca, a woman intirely | Mrs MULLART. faultless, saving that she is a little given | to drink, a little too much a virago towards | her husband, and in love with Tom Thumb. |

The Princess Huncamunca, daughter to | their majesties king Arthur and queen | Dollallolla, of a very sweet, gentle, and | Mrs JONES. amorous disposition, equally in love with | Lord Grizzle and Tom Thumb, and desirous to | be married to them both. |

Glumdalca, of the giants, a captive |
  queen, beloved by the king, but in love with | Mrs DOVE.
  Tom Thumb. |

Cleora, Mustacha, maids of honour in love with Noodle and
  Doodle.—Courtiers, Guards, Rebels, Drums, Trumpets,
  Thunder and Lightning.

SCENE, the court of king Arthur, and a plain thereabouts.

ACT I.

SCENE I.—The Palace. DOODLE, NOODLE.

Doodle. Sure such a [1]day as this was never seen!
The sun himself, on this auspicious day,
Shines like a beau in a new birth-day suit:
This down the seams embroidered, that the beams.
All nature wears one universal grin.

[Footnote 1: Corneille recommends some very remarkable day wherein to fix the action of a tragedy. This the best of our tragical writers have understood to mean a day remarkable for the serenity of the sky, or what we generally call a fine summer's day; so that, according to this their exposition, the same months are proper for tragedy which are proper for pastoral. Most of our celebrated English tragedies, as Cato, Mariamne, Tamerlane, &c., begin with their observations on the morning. Lee seems to have come the nearest to this beautiful description of our author's:

  The morning dawns with an unwonted crimson,
  The flowers all odorous seem, the garden birds
  Sing louder, and the laughing sun ascends
  The gaudy earth with an unusual brightness;
  All nature smiles.—Caes.