posture, that he looked more like an old man than a lion.

The second lion was a tailor by trade, who belonged to the play-house, and had the character of a mild and peaceable man in his profession. If the former was too furious, this was too sheepish, for his part; insomuch, that after a short modest walk upon the stage, he would fall at the first touch of Hydaspes, without grappling with him, and giving him an opportunity of shewing his variety of Italian trips: it is said, indeed, that he once gave him a rip in his fleshcolor doublet; but this was only to make work for himself, in his private character of a tailor. I must not omit that it was this second lion who treated me with so much humanity behind the scenes.

The acting lion at present is, as I am informed, a country gentleman, who does it for his diversion; but desires his name may be concealed. He says very handsomely, in his own excuse, 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 same time, says, with a very agreeable raillery upon himself, that if his name should be known, the ill-natured world might call him, The ass in the lion's skin. This gentleman's temper is made out of such a happy mixture of the mild and the choleric, that he out-does both his predecessors, 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 disadvantage, of whom I must declare myself an admirer; namely, that Signior Nicolini and the lion have been seen sitting peaceably by one another, and smoking a pipe together behind the scenes ;

by which their common enemies would insinuate, that it is but a sham combat which they represent upon the stage; but, upon inquiry, I find, that if any such correspondence has passed between them, it was not till the combat was over, when the lion was to be looked upon as dead, according to the received rules of the drama. Besides, this is what is practised every day in Westminster-Hall, where nothing is more usual than to see a couple of lawyers, who have been tearing each other to pieces in the court, embracing one another as soon as they are out of it.

I would not be thought, in any part of this relation, to reflect upon Signior Nicolini, who, in acting this part, only complies with the wretched taste of his audience; he knows very well, that the lion has many more admirers than himself; as they say of the famous equestrian statue on the Pont-Neuf at Paris, that more people go to see the horse, than the king who sits upon it. On the contrary, it gives me a just indignation to see a person whose action gives new majesty to kings, resolution to heroes, and softness to lovers, thus sinking from the greatness of his behavior, and degraded into the character of the London Prentice. I have often wished, that our tragedians would copy after this great master in action. Could they make the same use of their arms and legs, and inform their faces with as significant looks and passions, 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 expressions of an Italian opera? In the mean time, I have related this combat of the lion, to shew what are at present the reigning entertainments of the politer part of Great-Britain.

Audiences have often been reproached by writers for the coarseness of their taste; but our present grievance does not seem to be the want of a good taste, but of common sense.

C

No. 14.

FRIDAY, March 16.

BY STEELE.

Teque his, infelix, exue monstris.

OVID. Met. 1. 4. v. 590.

Wretch that thou art! put off this monstrous shape.

I WAS reflecting this morning upon the spirit and

humor of the public diversions five and twenty years ago, and those of the present time; and lamented to myself, that though in those days they neglected their morality, they kept up their good sense; but that the beau monde, at present, is only grown more childish, not more innocent, than the former. While I was in this train of thought, an odd fellow, whose face I have often seen at the play-house, gave me the following letter with these words, Sir, the lion presents his 'humble service to you, and desired 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 ' resentment against your reflections upon operas, till that of this day, wherein you plainly insinuate, that 'Signior Grimaldi and myself have a correspondence ( more friendly than is consistent with the valor of his

character, or the fierceness of mine. I desire you "would, for your own sake, forbear such intimations

for the future; and must say it is a great piece of 'ill-nature in you, to shew so great an esteem for a 'foreigner, and to discourage a lion that is your own 'countryman.

'I take notice of your fable of the lion and man, (No. 11.) but am so equally concerned in that matter, ' that I shall not be offended to whichsoever of the ani'mals the superiority is given. You have misrepre'sented me, in saying that I am a country-gentleman, 'who act only for my diversion; whereas had I still 'the same woods to range in which I once had when 'I was a fox-hunter, I should not resign my man'hood for a maintenance; and assure you, as low as circumstances are at present, I am so much a man of honor, that I would scorn to be any beast for 'bread but a lion. Yours, &c.'

my

I had no sooner ended this, than one of my landlady's children brought me in several others, with some of which I shall make up my present paper, they all having a tendency to the same subject, viz. the elegance of our present diversions.

SIR,

Covent-Garden, March 13. 'I have been for twenty years under-sexton of this 'parish of St. Paul's, Covent-Garden, and have not 'missed tolling into prayers six times in all those ' years; which office I have performed to my great 'satisfaction till this fortnight last past, during which ' time I find my congregation take the warning of my 'bell, morning and evening, to go to the puppet-show, 'set forth by one Powell, under the Piazzas. By this 'means I have not only lost my two customers whom I used to place for sixpence apiece over-against Mrs. Rachel Eyebright; but Mrs. Rachel herself is gone

thither also. There now appear among us none but a 'few ordinary people, who come to church only to say their prayers, so that I have no work worth speaking of but on Sundays. I have placed my son at the Piazzas, to acquaint the ladies that the bell rings for church, and that it stands on the other side of the garden; but they only laugh at the child.

'I desire you would lay this before all the world, that I may not be made such a tool for the future, ' and that Punchinello may chuse hours less canonical. As things are now, Mr. Powell has a full congregation, while we have a very thin house; which if 6 can remedy, you will very much oblige, Sir,

you

'Yours, &c.'

The following epistle I find is from the undertaker of the masquarade.

( SIR,

I

'I have observed the rules of my masque (No. 8) so 'carefully (in not inquiring into persons,) that I cannot 'tell whether you were one of the company or not last 6 Tuesday; but if you were not, and still design to come, I desire you would, for your own entertain'ment, please to admonish the town, that all persons, 'indifferently are not fit for this sort of diversion. 'could wish, Sir, you could make them understand, ⚫ that it is a kind of acting, to go in masquarade, and a man should be able to say or do things proper for the dress in which he appears. We have now and then rakes in the habit of Roman senators, and grave politicians in the dress of rakes. The misfortune of 'the thing is, that people dress themselves in what 'they have a mind to be, and not what they are fit for.

There is not a girl in the town, but let her have her 'will in going to a masque, and she shall dress as a ( shepherdess. But let me beg of them to read the