THOMAS D'URFEY.

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or humour, which stood up from the surface of his character, were polished and worn away. There is a something twinkling in the eye which to a certain extent redeems the portrait: but we confess that we would rather have seen it more completely justifying its master's fame. Addison was an indifferent dramatist, and a bad poet; but his humour was delicate and delightful.

No. 87. MATTHEW PRIOR.

From a Picture by Richardson, in the Collection of Lord Hardwicke. If this be a likeness of PRIOR, and we have the strongest reason to believe it quite authentic, it is undoubtedly the finest head that we have seen of that lively writer. It does not, indeed, coincide with our recollections of some of his verses; but it is an exceedingly striking portrait. It indicates the author of "The Nut Brown Maid," or perhaps the diplomatist, but scarcely the humorous fabler. Prior's stories are neatly and piquantly told. We do not see high poetry or romance in any of his verses, but we look for pleasant narrative, shrewdness, and comic spirit,-and we find them. We shall be excused for recommending this portrait to the particular notice of the reader, as a work of art, full of beauty and expression.

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No. 88. THOMAS D'URFEY.

From an original Picture, in the Collection of the Dutchess of Dorset. We never saw a human countenance which so entirely resembled a mask as this, and yet it is a strong resemblance of the author. "D'URFEY of the forlorn aspect," was fit to have lived at the courts of King Artaxominous, or the Prince of Brentford, or to have presided at the revels of Amoroso, King of (little) Britain. There face inflicted upon an animal

never before, perhaps, was such

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SIR JOHN VANBRUGH.

with two legs; and the unhappy proprietor of this physiognomy was so aware of this, that the present likeness was obtained only by stealth. It is a face for a knocker; or a cornice; or the top of a stick; or a letter box (if the mouth were open); or a snuffbox (if it were less grave); or, were it more reasonably proportioned, it might perhaps be admitted to figure as one of those libels on Highlandmen which are planted at the doors of tobacconists and snuff-shops as decoys to unwary (if there be any unwary) Scots. A wit in want of a butt, or the manager of a country company whose clown was sick, or a man whose peas were daily disappearing in the sparrow season, would covet such a head; but, we apprehend, no one else. It is like a satire upon human beauty, curious from its enormity.

No. 89. SIR JOHN VANBRUGH.

From a Picture by Kneller, in the Collection of William Baker, Esq. WE remember, as we were crossing Blackheath about two or three years ago, in one of the Kent coaches, that a travelling 'squire (our companion) pointed out to us a pile of building which he called "Vanbrugh Fields," and said that he had been told that 'twas built by "a Sir John Vanbrugh, a famous artist in his time.” We assented to his reputation, and informed our informant that the knight had erected some of his works upon a better foundation even than Vanbrugh Fields: and we moreover, on an inquiry being made as to what these were, entrusted to the country gentleman questioning us the secret of Sir John having constructed (besides houses) certain comedies, which had entitled him to the admiration of the literary world. "Ha, indeed! you don't say so?" rejoined our friend; on which we asserted that we did say so, and that we would maintain it. And we say so still; for notwithstanding the buildings of Vanbrugh, and the epigram (or

WILLIAM CONGREVE.

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epitaph) upon him, and notwithstanding that the painter has chosen to place the compasses in his hand, as though to fix him to one profession, we think that the order of his architecture will become obsolete before his language, and that his buildings will shake to their foundation, before his humour and wit will give way. Vanbrugh was the third writer of modern comedy-at least, he and Farquhar were on the third step together-there being only Wycherley and Congreve, of that brilliant faction, decidedly above him. The dramatist looks like a gentleman in this engraving; but whether he has more of the poet or the architect in his face, we leave to the opinion of the reader.

From an original Picture in the possession of the Publisher. THIS face, with its fine-cut features, is full of gentility. It is almost too finished and too delicate for humour; and accordingly we find that CONGREVE, though, perhaps, the most brilliant wit in the whole circle of the drama, (we omit Shakspeare,) had not much notion of humour or character. He was a writer of great power in a particular way: i. e. he was a great master of fanciful wit, of pointed antithesis, and of dazzling repartee. He had, if we may be allowed the expression, more quickness than force of intellect. He struck smartly and cut keenly, but he had no grasp over his characters. They are prodigiously inferior, as may be supposed, to Shakspeare's; nor are they equal to those of Wycherley, or even of Farquhar. But the flashing of his wit is splendid and incessant. It is like the summer lightning, only not harmless. The power of Congreve was over words-or, we should say, images, (for he was not a punster,) rather than over persons: we recollect his sayings while we forget his charac

ters. Foresight and the Old Bachelor are almost the only two people who are engraven, at full length, on our memory.-It is a curious fact, that Congreve should have said to Voltaire (who requested to be introduced to him) that " he wished to be visited as a gentleman, and not as an author." He, who could lash so smartly the empty humming gentility of his cotemporaries, should surely have known better. The reply of the French wit-that he should not have troubled him at all had he not been an authorwas richly merited by the weakness of our countryman's avowal. But, let us forget his faults, and think only of his fame. There are many persons who have done sillier things than he, but none who have uttered more witty sayings. It is a bad symptom of the intellect of this age, we think, whatever may be said of its morality, that the large farces of our cotemporaries should be liked, and the humble dialogue of the last age upheld, in preference— for it really is so-to the dazzling and airy wit of Congreve, and the matchless comedy of Shakspeare himself.

No. 91. ELIJAH FENTON.

From an original Picture in the possession of Thomas Fenton, Esq. THE appearance of FENTON is unprepossessing. He has a heavy look, yet obtrusive, and full of pretence; such as might have become a pedagogue, (he was originally a schoolmaster,) but is scarcely indicative of the "divine afflatus." This writer is principally known by his tragedy of "Mariamne." He also assisted Pope in translating some books of Homer (we believe, of the Odyssey,) wrote a few small poems, drank two bottles of wine a day, and got a precarious living by depending upon some literary or political patron.

BARTON BOOTH.

No. 92. JOHN GAY.

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From a Picture by Dahl, in the Collection of the Dutchess of Dorset. THIS poet has a sharp eye, full of observation, and a determined mouth. His dress is plain, and his cap is unadorned, and looks like a thistle he might have written under it the Scotch motto ("Nemo me impune lacessit")-for he was a smart and lively fabler, and could " point a moral," and trim the luxuriant folly of high and low life, as any reader of the "Beggar's Opera" can testify. That drama, indeed, is his great performance. It is full of wit and satire, and many of the songs are as sweet and soothing as a dream. GAY's pastorals are pleasant in parts, and his "Black-eyed Susan," and "The Hare with many Friends," in former times carried (with his opera) his popularity to an extent that has scarcely been surpassed in the literature of this or any other country. He is now in less request. His Fables have given way to more piquant things; his "Black-eyed Susan" has gone out of fashion with the sea-service; and his "Beggar's Opera" is condemned as vulgar. Whether all this be right or not, we will not undertake to determine.

No. 93. BARTON BOOTH.

From an original Picture in the Collection of Charles Mathews, Esq. BOOTH was, in his time, a celebrated tragic actor. He ran away from the famous right hand of Dr. Busby, (of Westminster school,) and enlisted in the theatrical corps, where he became known to Betterton, and played for the first time in London, in Fletcher's tragedy of " Valentinian." He translated several odes of Horace, and wrote the masque of "Dido and Eneas." Cibber says, that "the masterpiece of Booth was Othello ;" and this alone gives us a high idea of his talent. He owed, however, his highest advancement, it seems, to Addison's "Cato," in which he