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idea of female beauty does not appear founded on the most perfect model; for in this figure, as well as in that of Night, the bosom is faulty; the two hemispheres are placed at too great a distance, and their form is not handsome. But so much the more bold, powerful, and masculine is the broad chest of Crepusculo, who, as well as Day, is throughout of a gigantick, colossal nature, energetick, and wonderful, such as Michael Angelo alone knew how to create. I cannot say much in commendation of Night, though much celebrated by poets. Considered impartially, she is a huge caricature on woman, presenting disagreeable forms snd striking disproportions, whether you examine her unnaturally long, flat body, disfigured with folds and wrinkles; or the leg, which is much too long for the thigh; or the ugly bosom, or the ungraceful position; in which last quality she is rivalled by Day, her companion on the same sarcophagus. Night has been praised because her sleep is so perfectly natural; the expression of the face is certainly a true representation of a person in sound sleep; but who sleeps in such a constrained posture?* Next to the original magnitude of these figures, the manner in which they are executed demands the admiration of the connoisseur, and the study of the artist. The figures are not quite finished in many parts, and still cleave here and

That these four figures are intended to represent the four times of the day....Day and Night, Aurora and Twilight,...we are informed, only by tradition; and it should be observed, that, with the exception of Night, who is asleep, none of the figures have any characteristick to confirm such a supposition.

there to the rude block of marble which serves for their basis; but where they are finished, the chisel has been employed with wonderful ability. Michael Angelo knew not how to paint in marble like Canova, but how to sketch and to model with the chisel. All the parts on which the light falls, and which are exposed to the view, are finished in the highest degree, almost to a polish; on the contrary, in those which recede into the shade, or are otherwise withdrawn from the view, the chisel is perceived without any farther polish. No neglect appears in the form, which is every where equally perfect and complete, but merely in the parts which are concealed; this negli gence however, evinces the genius of a master. This liberty taken by Michael Angelo with the mechanical portion of his art, this evident contempt for every thing superfluous (for whatever is not essential, and at most can only please the eye) gives to his execution that solemn grandeur and boldness, that lofty and haughty character, which are peculiar to his productions. But I must part from you, ye sublime creations of the sublimest genius, who sheds a lustre upon the age of modern art; I must leave the sanctuary which incloses you, perhaps for ever. Adieu, ye noble forms! never may the rude hands of barbarians drag you from your native home! And thou sublime, divine genius! drop a spark of thy fiery spirit into our enervated art, and inspire it anew with more solemn, more grand, and more manly conceptions.

To be continued.

IT is the opinion of some persons by no means deficient in good sense and respectability, that theatrical representations are injurious to the morals of a people. Imprest with this conviction they opposed the establishment of a theatre in this town, and now, in many instances, abstain from attending it. Prejudices of this nature arise from a narrow education and ignorance of the world; since no civilized people ever existed, among whom the dramatick muse was not a distinguished favourite, whose smiles have been courted, and whose labours have been ap plauded by the best and wisest men of all nations.

It would be superfluous to recur to the sages of antiquity, and in form the reader, that Socrates and Cicero were in the habit of attend ing theatrical exhibitions, the latter of whom was bound by the closest ties of intimacy and affection to the celebrated Roscius. It might plausibly be objected, that these men, though virtuous and wise, were yet pagans, and consequently not obliged to lead the strict exemplary life which chris tianity requires. It ill becomes those, who have embraced the gospel, to encourage by their presence the idle amusements of a wicked world, and to sit listening for hours together, amidst a promiscuous crowd, to the studied humours and fictitious distresses of buffoons and mimicks. But if it can be shown, that the great teachers of christian morality, and defenders of christian doctrines, Vol. III. No. 4. Ꮓ

JOHNSON.

No. 8.

have not only attended, but written plays, it will follow, that theatres are by no means so dangerous as bigotry and ignorance apprehend. Addison, Young, and Johnson were not men, who would knowingly have encouraged immorality, or have lessened the influence of religion.

The first of these writers wrote in defence of revelation, and was not less distinguished by his piety than his literature. Since the invention of letters, no mortal author ever produced so wonderful an effect on the morals and manners of society. He brought philosophy from the libraries of the learned, and introduced her at the toilettes of ladies. During the publication of the Spectator, national improvement became visible, conversation took a more interesting and edifying turn, dulness and impertinence fled before the mighty magician, and even infidelity lost a portion of her audacity, and grew more modest and unassuming. Now this great sage not only attended plays, but in the immortal work alluded to, which was expressly written for the religious and moral improvement of a nation, frequently discusses theatrical subjects, and passes numerous encomiums on his contemporary dramatists. Nay, he wrote plays himself, and his tragedy of Cato, whilst it increased his reputation as a writer, in no respect diminished his authority as a moral and religious instructor.

Dr. Young was distinguished by a religious sensibility, which

bordered on enthusiasm. Yet christian and clergyman as he was, he thought it neither inconsistent with his profession, nor derogatory from his dignity, to write plays. His Revenge, one of the noblest productions in our language, will remain an ever lasting monument of his genius, and will be read and acted as long as that language shall be understood.

If any than of the last century stands. eminently high in his religious, moral, and literary character, that man is Dr. Samuel Johnson. This great moralist, notwithstanding the strictness of his principles, was fond of the drama, and was the intimate friend of David Garrick. He would probably have written many plays, had his Irene succeeded, but on the ill success of this piece turned his attention to other departments. of literature.

Let none therefore, who do not surpass the moral and religious

worth of Addison, Young, and Johnson, inveigh against the inmoral tendency of dramatick exhibitions. The charge is not true at the present day, and were Jeremy Collier to rise from the grave, he might justly ridicule the insipidity, but could not truly arraign the morality of the modern drama. Unfounded censures of this nature ought to be confined to the monks of the cloister, or the fanaticks of the tabernacle. As Johnson expresses it in my motto, harmless mirth and salutary wo' are at present the innocent offspring of the theatre, and I have sometimes experienced as much edification from a good play as from a good sermon. But should the play chance to be some modern novelty, of no intrinsick worth, yet still I can derive much amusement from the talents of the more distinguished performers, the broad farce of Twaits, the chaster humour of Bernard, and the buskined dignity and electrifying energy of Cooper.. C.

WK sometimes meet in the world those pleasant originals, whose part here below seems in-tended to serve only for the amusement and instruction of their fellow creatures. I have just made an acquaintance with a being of this nature. His history might fill volumes; but as I have neither the time nor inclination to write, I shall content myself with offering only a slight sketch of his charac

ter.

Giacomo Della Rocca was born in Italy on the banks of the Tiber, and not far distant from the most

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teemed; in another all was dissimulation; this was composed only of speculators; that of proud supercilious nobles and as to all the others it was difficult to determine what they were. Though he had a choice, and though the forms of government were very various, yet S. Della Rocca, from these circumstances, was not more happy. Sole heir of an immense fortune, he was highly caressed by his parents, who,observing with anxiety the gloomy and discontented character of their son, proposed that he should travel.

But alas here was another embarrassment! what climate could find attractions for him who was born under the mild skies of Italy, in the bosom of that country, the nursery of the arts, on that fertile, favoured soil! He might indeed seek for other men in order to compare them with his fellow country men, to gain experience and knowledge of human nature; but to seek a country more blessed by the orb of day, more caressed by nature ! .... this would be madness.

No matter; it is the wish of S. Della Rocca to travel: it is indeed the only means of diverting his mind. His parents agree to it, and consent to the departure of their son.

To what country shall he go? This is not easy to decide upon. To England? There the weather is too cold, the atmosphere is thick ened with fog; there they burn coal; the people are so independent, that they can insult you with impunity; in that country they live on flesh; a most horrible repast for S. Della Rocca. No, we will not go to England.

Shall we to the North? Then we should perish with cold. I will not hear of Scandinavia. Prussia is too military. In Germany there

is too much ceremony. The ice of the North is melancholy and dangerous. The Helvetian is not polished enough. Batavia is a low marshy country. The air of Brabant is damp, thick, and unhealthy. In Turkey the women are condemned to seclusion, or only permitted to appear veiied. Poland is a flat,uniform country, and S. Della Rocca loves variety. All that might have determined him for this last country is, that his mother possessed a great estate there. But interest was not his inducement for travelling, and in this respect all countries were indifferent to him. Assailed by a thousand desires, he sees only a tiresome uniformity in the happiness he enjoyed a mild, tempe rate climate was necessary to Giacomo, where there was a variety of seasons; a land inhabited by amiable, lively, graceful, sensible women, and by men of an affability of manners, whose occupations were varied, and to whom the ennui of life was unknown. . . . . Behold then S. Della Rocca in the road to Paris.

However teeming with pleasures is this theatre of wonders, it is yet incompetent to fulfil the wishes of a madman, whose misfortune is an eternal desire of novelty. The women were not such as his imagination had painted them there was to much assurance in their air; no modesty bowed down their heads; they possessed the talent of smiling,without the inclination; of being absent from design; of looking upon one object without perceiving it, only to contemplate another to which their eyes were not apparently directed; of listening,without hearing; of welcoming with kindness those, for whom they felt only disgust; one held negli gently to her eye an opera glass, for which she had no need; an

other supported the gaze of the beholder with an air of ignorance that she was the object of contemplation, and, in order to shew a delicate hand, knew how to remove a lock of hair which in no way incommoded her; in short, the eyes of this one would have appeared entirely lifeless, without the fire of voluptuousness, or the lightning of envy; and the red and white had replaced on her complexion the roses and lilies. He did not tell me under what aspect he beheld the men, or what he thought of them; all that I know is, that he soon embarked for America,

The war had just ceased, and the new world offered to the old a form of government which possibly might satisfy S. Della Rocca. But he carried also into this country his melancholy character.— Life appeared to him only a moment, tediously prolonged; the air was always too thick or too sharp; the foliage had not variety enough of shades; the morning was scarcely different from the evening, and one day constantly resembled another. Besides,they might have formed much better laws at Philadelphia; the people had not sufficiently profited by their lessons of experience; they ought to have better consulted the manners and relations of the state. As to the country, it was in vain that the striking beauties of an immense view, varied by the luxuriant hand of nature, offered themselves to his eye. It was not for him that bloomed the enamel of the meadows, that the birds warbled their songs of melody, that the flowers exhaled their perfumes, or the rivulets meandered through verdant plains.

I shall not follow our discontentod friend through all his travels,

and the reader will permit me to leave him to pay a visit, alone, to the East and West Indies, and to Africa, that he might there disapprove of whatever was done, blame all customs, all institutions, finding that the man of nature was too savage, and that civilized people were too far removed from nature.

After an absence of ten years, he returned to Europe; and arrived just at that period, when the division of Poland took place, three portions of which had been made without its consent. The estates of our traveller's mother, situated in a palatinate of the centre, were divided into three lots, and cach of them confiscated; one by the empress of Russia, who was not enriched by it; another by the king of the Romans, who had no expectation of advantage from it; and the third by the king of Prussia, who rendered justice only to his ancient subjects. Here certainly was sufficient to offend a far more gentle disposition than that of S. Della Rocca. But, by an inconceivable contradiction, he was only moderately affected by it, and as he saw nothing more than an abuse of the generality of institutions, and being most singularly whimsical, he consoled himself by arguments that would have discouraged any other being but himself." Had I to contend with but one crowned head," said he to himself, "I would hazard a few remonstrances; but to complain to three different princes, one of whom might send me into Siberia, another imprison me, and the third make me a proposition to enter his army....I find that either of these rewards is not worth the trouble that I should give myself in obtaining them."Therefore he remained quiet.

This diminution of his fortune,