who pretended to have feen the opera in Italy, had informed their friends, that the lion was to act a part in High-Dutch, and roar twice or thrice to a Thorough-Bass, before he fell at the feet of Hydafpes. To clear up a matter that was fo varioufly reported, I have made it my. bufinefs to examine whe-ther this pretended lion is really the favage he ap pears to be, or only a counterfeit.

But before I communicate my discoveries, I must acquaint my reader, that upon my walking behind. the fcenes laft winter, as I was thinking on fomething else, I accidentally juftled against a monstrous animal that extremely ftartled me, and upon my nearer survey of it, appeared to be a lion rampant.. That, on feeing me very much furprised, told me, in a gentle voice, that I might come by him if I pleafed For (fays he), I do not intend to hurt any body. I thanked him very kindly, and paffed by. him and in a little time after faw him leap upon. the stage, and act his part with very great applause.It has been obferved by feveral, that the lion has changed his manner of acting twice or thrice fince his firft appearance; which will not seem strange, when I acquaint my reader, that the lion has been changed upon the audience three several times. The firft lion was a candle-fnuffer, who, being a fellow. of a tefty choleric temper, overdid his part, and i would not fuffer himself to be killed so easily as he ought to have done; befides, it was obferved of him, that he grew more furly every time he came. out of the lion; and having dropt fome words in. ordinary conversation, as if he had not fought his beft,, and that he fuffered himself to be thrown upon his back in the fcuffle, and that he would. wrestle with Mr. Nicolini for what he pleafed, out of his lion's fkin, it was thought proper to discard him and it is verify believed, to this day, that, had he been brought upon the ftage another time, he would certainly have done mifchief. Befides, it

:

was

was objected against the first lion, that he reared himself fo high upon his hinder paws, and walked in so erect a posture, that he looked more like an old man than a lion.

The fecond lion was a taylor by trade, who be longed to the play-houfe, and had the character of a mild and peaceable man in his profeffion. If the former was too furious, this was too fheepish, for his part; infomuch, that, after a fhort modeft walk upon the stage, he would fall upon the first touch of Hydafpes, without grappling with him, and giving him an opportunity of fhewing his variety of Italian trips. It is faid, indeed, that he once gave him a rip in the flesh-colour doublet; but this was only to make work for himself, in his private character of a tailor. I muft not omit that it was this fecond lion who treated me with so much humanity behind the scenes.

The acting lion at prefent is, I am informed, a country gentleman who does it for his diversion, but defires his name may be concealed. He fays very handsomely, in his own excufe, that he does not act for gain, that he indulges an innocent pleasure in it; and that it is better to pass away an evening in this manner, than in gaming and drinking: but at the fame time fays, with a very agreeable raillery upon himself, that if his name fhould be known, the ill-natured world might call him, The afs in the lion's fkin. This gentleman's temper is made out of fuch a happy mixture of the mild and the choleric, that he outdoes both his predeceffors, and has drawn together greater audiences than have been known in the memory of man.

I must not conclude my narrative without taking notice of a groundless report that has been raised to a gentleman's difadvantage, of whom I must declare myfelf an admirer; namely, that Signior Nicolini and the lion have been feen fitting peaceably by one another, and smoking a pipe together

gether behind the fcenes; by which their common enemies would infinuate, that it is but a fham combat which they reprefent upon the ftage: but, upon inquiry, I find, that if any fuch correfpondence has paffed between them, it was not until the combat was over, when the lion was to be looked upon as dead, according to the received rules of the Dra-Befides, this is what is practised every day in Westminster-Hall, where nothing is more ufual than to fee a couple of lawyers, who have been tearing each other to pieces in the court, embracing one another as foon as they are out of it.

ma.

I would not be thought, in any part of this rela tion, to reflect upon Signior Nicolini, who, in acting this part, only complies with the wretched tafte of his audience: he knows very well, that the lion has many more admirers than himfelf; as they fay of the famous Equestrian ftatue on the Pont-Neuf at Paris, that more people go to see the horse, than. the King who fits upon it. On the contrary, it gives me a juft indignation to fee a perfon, whofe action gives new majefty to kings, refolution to heroes, and foftnefs to lovers, thus finking from the greatness of his behaviour, and degraded into the character of the London Prentice. I have often wifhed, that our tragedians would copy after this great mafter in action. Could they make the fame ufe of their arms and legs, and inform their faces with as fignificant looks and paffions, how glorious would an English tragedy appear with that action, which is capable of giving a dignity to the forced thoughts, cold conceits, and unnatural expreffions of an Italian opera. In the mean time, I have related this combat of the lion, to fhew what are at prefent the reigning entertainments of the politer part of Great Britain.

Audiences have often been reproached by writ-. ers for the coarfenefs of their tafte; but our pre

fent

fent grievance does not feem to be the want of a good tafte, but of common fenfe.

C

No. 14.

I

FRIDAY, MARCH 16.

-Teque his, infelix, exue monftris.

OVID. Met. 1. iv. ver. 590.

Wretch that thou art! put off this monftrous fhape-,

WAS reflecting this morning upon the spirit and humour of the public diverfions five and twenty years ago, and thofe of the present time; and lamented to myself, that, though in those days they. neglected their morality, they kept up their good fenfe; but that the beau monde, at prefent, is only grown more childish, not more innocent than the former. While I was in this train of thought, an odd fellow, whofe face I have often seen at the playhouse, gave me the following letter with these words, Sir, The Lion prefents his humble fervice to you, and defired me to give this into your own hands.

From my den in the Hay-market, March 15.

SIR,

• I have read all your papers, and have stifled my • refentment against your reflections upon operas until that of this day, wherein you plainly infinuate, that Signior Nicolini and myself have a correfpondence more friendly than is confiftent with the valour of his character, or the fierceness of mine. I defire you would for your own fake forbear fuch intimations for the future; and muft fay, it is a great piece of ill-nature in you, to fhow fo great an esteem for a foreigner, and to difcourage a lion that is your own countryman.

I take notice of your fable of the lion and man, but am fo equally concerned in that matter, that I fhall not be offended to which foever of the animals the fuperiority is given. You have mifre• presented me in faying, that I am a country gentleman, who act only for my diversion; whereas, • had I still the fame woods to range in which I once had when I was a fox-hunter, I should not refign < my manhood for a maintenance; and affure you, as low as my circumstances are at present, I am so • much a man of honour, that I would fcorn to be any beaft for bread but a lion.

to

• Yours, &c.'

I had no fooner ended this, than one of my landlady's children brought me in feveral others, with fome of which I fhall make up my prefent paper, they all having a tendency to the fame fubject, viz. the elegance of our present diversions.

SIR,

Covent-Garden, March 13. I have been for twenty years under-fexton of this parish of St. Paul's, Covent-Garden, and have not miffed tolling in to prayers fix times in all thofe years; which office I have performed to my great fatisfaction, until this fortnight laft paft, during which time I find my congregation take the warning of my bell, morning and evening, to go to a puppet-fhow, fet forth by one Powell, under the Piazzas. By this means I have not only loft my two cuftomers, whom I ufed to place, for fix-pence apiece, over against Mrs. Rachel Eyebright, but Mrs. Rachel herself is gone thither alfo. There now appear among us none but a few ordinary people, who come to church only to fay their prayers, fo that I have no work worth fpeaking of but on Sundays. I have placed my fon at the Piazzas, to acquaint the ladies, that the bell rings for church, and that it ftands on

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the