selected, we should say that nothing but the acting of Garrick
and the partiality of the audience could have saved so feeble and
unnatural a drama from instant damnation. The ambition of the
poet was still unsubdued.. When the London season closed, he
applied himself vigorously to the work of removing blemishes. He
does not seem to have suspected, what we are strongly inclined to
suspect, that the whole piece was one blemish, and that the
passages which were meant to be fine were, in truth, bursts of
that tame extravagance into which writers fall when they set
themselves to be sublime and pathetic in spite of nature. He
omitted, added, retouched, and flattered himself with hopes of a
complete success in the following year; but, in the following
year, Garrick showed no disposition to bring the amended tragedy
on the stage. Solicitation and remonstrance were tried in vain.
Lady Coventry, drooping under that malady which seems ever to
select what is loveliest for its prey, could render no
assistance. The manager's language was civilly evasive; but his
resolution was inflexible. Crisp had committed a great error ;
but he had escaped with a very slight penance. His play had not
been hooted from the boards. It had, on the contrary, been
better received than many very estimable performances have
been-than Johnson's "Irene," for example, or Goldsmith's
"Good-natured Man." Had Crisp been wise, he would have thought
himself happy in having purchased self-knowledge so cheap. He
would have relinquished, without vain repinings, the hope of
poetical distinction, and would have turned to the many sources
of happiness which he still possessed. Had he been, on the other
hand, an unfeeling and unblushing dunce, he would have gone on
writing scores of bad tragedies in defiance of censure and
derision. But he had too much sense to risk a second defeat, yet