perhaps miscarry.  Your reputation is established; you will never forfeit it yourself-and to give your works to unworthy performers is like sacrificing a daughter to a husband of bad character.  As to my offering it to Mr. Colman, I could merely be the messenger.  I am scarce known to him, have no right to ask a favour of him, and I hope you know me enough to think that I am too conscious of my own insignificance and private situation to give myself an air of protection, and more particularly to a work of yours, Sir.  What could I say, that would carry greater weight, than “This piece is by the author of Braganza?"(278)

A tragedy can never suffer by delay:  a comedy may, because the allusions or the manners represented in it maybe temporary.  I urge this, not to dissuade your presenting Vitellia to the stage, but to console you if both theatres should be engaged next winter.  My own interests, from my time of life, would make me with reason more impatient than you to see it represented, but I am jealous of the honour Of your poetry, and I should grieve to see Vitellia, at Covent-garden not that, except Mrs. Yates, I have any partiality to the tragic actors at Drury-lane, though Smith did not miscarry in Braganza-but I speak from experience.  I attended “Caractacus” last winter, and was greatly interested, both from my friendship for Mr. Mason and from the excellence of the poetry.  I was out of all patience; for though a young Lewis played a subordinate part very well, and Mrs. Hartley looked her part charmingly, the Druids were so massacred and Caractacus so much worse, that I never saw a more barbarous exhibition.  Instead of hurrying “The Law of Lombardy,"(279) which, however, I shall delight to see finished, I again wish you to try comedy.  To my great astonishment there were more parts performed admirably in “The School for Scandal,"(280) than I almost ever saw in any play.  Mrs. Abington was equal to the first of her profession, Yates, the husband, Parsons, Miss Pope, and Palmer, all shone.  It seemed a marvellous resurrection of the stage.  Indeed, the play had as much merit as the actors.  I have seen no comedy that comes near it since the “Provoked Husband.”

I said I was Jealous of your fame as a poet, and I truly am.  The more rapid your genius is, labour will but the more improve it.  I am very frank, but I am sure that my attention to your reputation will excuse it.  Your facility in writing exquisite poetry may be a disadvantage; as it may not leave you time to study the other requisites of tragedy so much as is necessary.  Your writings deserve to last for ages; but to make any work last, it must be finished in all parts to perfection.  You have the first requisite to that perfection, for you can sacrifice charming lines, when they do not tend to improve the whole.  I admire this resignation so much, that I wish to turn it to your advantage.  Strike out your sketches as suddenly as you please, but retouch