emosthenes, and his contemporaries, speak with a freedom at which we
are astonished, notwithstanding the notion we have of a popular
government; yet, at what time but this did comedy adventure to claim the
same rights with civil eloquence? The Italian comedy of the last age,
all daring as it was, could, for its boldness, come into no competition
with the ancient. It was limited to general satire, which was sometimes
carried so far, that the malignity was overlooked in an attention to the
wild exaggeration, the unexpected strokes, the pungent wit, and the
malignity concealed under such wild flights as became the character of
harlequin. But though it so far resembled Aristophanes, our age is yet
at a great distance from his, and the Italian comedy from his scenes.
But with respect to the liberty of censuring the government, there can
be no comparison made of one age or comedy with another. Aristophanes is
the only writer of his kind, and is, for that reason, of the highest
value. A powerful state, set at the head of Greece, is the subject of
his merriment, and that merriment is allowed by the state itself. This
appears to us an inconsistency; but it is true that it was the interest
of the state to allow it, though not always without inconveniency. It
was a restraint upon the ambition and tyranny of single men, a matter of
great importance to a people so very jealous of their liberty. Cleon,
Alcibiades, Lamachus, and many other generals and magistrates were kept
under by fear of the comick strokes of a poet so little cautious as
Aristophanes. He was once, indeed, in danger of paying dear for his wit.
He professed, as he tells us himself, to be of great use by his writings
to the state; and rated his merit so high as to complain that he was not
rewarded. But, under pretence of this publick spirit, he spared no part
of the publick conduct; neither was government, councils, revenues,
popular assemblies, secret proceedings in judicature, choice of
ministers, the government of the nobles, or that of the people, spared.

The Acharnians, the Peace, and the Birds, are eternal monuments of the
boldness of the poet, who was not afraid of censuring the government for
the obstinate continuance of a ruinous war, for undertaking new ones,
and feeding itself with wild imaginations, and running to destruction,
as it did, for an idle point of honour.

Nothing can be more reproachful to the Athenians than his play of the
Knights, where he r