THE ATHEIST.

THIS is intended as a sequel to the "Soldier's Fortune," (Vol. II.) and, like that comedy, is composed of a mass of adventures, without much order of succession, or coherence of plan, The principal aim, in both pieces, has obviously been to engage the imagination by bustle, novelty, and profusion of incidents, rather than, by just delineation of character, exactitude of plot, and propriety of sentiment, to win the slow approbation of the judgment. The dialogue has more freedom and vivacity than the other comedies, and abounds with that species of licentious wit which secured it's favourable reception with audiences whose minds were corrupted, by habit and example, to a perfect relish of grossness, and contempt of decency. Marriage, and all those decorums which embellish social life, and may be said to hold society most firmly together, are despised and ridiculed; and unbounded freedom, or rather licentiousness, extolled and set up in their stead. The play receives it's principal title from a character too frequent at that period: at least, if real Atheists were few, there were numerous pretenders to the title. The loose wits at the court of Charles II. affected, as a fashionable distinction, to discard all belief in religion, either natural or revealed; and even the king himself was sometimes believed not to be unfavourable to the same mode of thinking. The satire was, therefore, perhaps, properly directed. But, at present, when Atheism has

ceased to be a popular doctrine, a character compounded of lewdness and blasphemy, cannot fail to offend; although the intention be to stigmatize and expose those vices. It may here be urged, in mitigation of the censure which oppresses Otway's comedies, that their very grossness destroys, in a great measure, their pernicious influence; for it may truly be said, that vice, in many parts of them, "need only be seen to be

hated."

The adventures of Beaugard and Porcia, which seem to constitute the whole of what may be termed the plot, are borrowed from "The Invisible Mistress," a novel of Scarron: an author who has supplied many of our dramatists with plots and incidents. There is no analogy (as has been supposed) between this comedy and Dryden's "Kind Keeper;" except that indecency, both as to moral and sentiments, which prevails in both pieces, although, perhaps, least in Otway's. The character of Sir Jolly Jumble, in the first part of the "Soldier's Fortune," bears some resemblance to that of Aldo, in Dryden's play.

This was the last dramatic performance of Otway, which we are in possession of; and from the allusion to the junction of the two theatres, in the prologue, and to some political occurrences in the play, appears to have been represented in 1683. It was printed 1684. Otway, in his own, laments the paucity of good prologues; and, unfortunately, like other critics, fails to instruct by example.

ΤΟ

THE LORD ELANDE,

ELDEST SON TO THE

RIGHT HONOURABLE THE MARQUIS OF HALLIFAX.

MY LORD,

It was not without a great deal of debate with myself, that I could resolve to make this present to your lordship; for though epistles dedicatory be lately grown so epidemical that, either sooner or later, no man of quality (whom the least author has the least pretence to be troublesome to) can escape them; yet methought your lordship should be as much above the common perplexities that attend your quality, as you are above the common level of it, as well in the most exalted dégrees of a noble generous spirit, as in a piercing apprehension, good understanding, and daily ripening judgment, all sweetened by an obliging affability and condescension; of which I have often, in the honour of your conversation, had particular cause to be proud; and for which, therefore, a more than ordinary reason, now, to be grateful.

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And it is upon that pretence I here presume to shelter this trifle under your protection; for, indeed, it has great need of such protection: having at it's first coming into the world met with many enemies, and very dustrious ones too; but this way I was sure it must live: would he but once vouchsafe to espouse it's defence, whose generosity will overthrow the ignoblest envy; whose good-nature cannot but confound the most inveterate malice; and whose wit must baffle the sauciest ignorance.

My lord, it would but argue me of the meanest impertinence and formality, to pretend here an harangue of those praises you deserve: for he who tells the world whose son you are, has said enough to those who do not know you; and the happy few, whom you have picked and chosen for your conversation, cannot but every hour you are pleased to bestow upon them, be sensible of more than I could tell them in a volume: your lordship being the best panegyric upon yourself; the son of that great father of his country, who, when all manner of confusion, ruin, and destruction, was breaking in upon us, like the guardian angel of these kingdoms, stood up; and with the tongue of an angel too, confounded the subtleties of that infernal serpent*, who would have debauched us from our obedience, and turned our Eden into a wilderness. Certainly his name must be for ever honourable, precious his memory, and happy his generation, who durst exert his loyalty, when it was grown almost a reproach to have any, and stem a torrent of faction, popular fury, and fermenting rebellion, to the preserving of the best of kings in his throne, and the happiest of people in their liberties.

May he live long to complete the reparations he has made in our defence; still by the strength of his judgment, to foresee those evils that may yet threaten us, and by the power of his wisdom to prevent them; to root out the footing and foundations of the king's open (nay, and bosom) enemies: as a watchful, bold, and sincere counsellor to his master; to be a driver of treacherous, grinning, self-ended knaves, insinuating spies, and useless unprofitable fools from his service: a patron and promoter of honesty, merit, and ability, which else too often, by neglect, are corrupted to their contraries. In fine, to continue (as he is) a kind indulgent father

The Earl of Shaftesbury. This extraordinary character, foiled in his projects, had now retired to Holland; a state whose ruin he had formerly urged with violence. His death, soon after, excited no regret.