ature, if the change be made between the acts, for it
is no less easy for the spectator to suppose himself at Athens in the
second act, than at Thebes in the first; but to change the scene, as is
done by Rowe, in the middle of an act, is to add more acts to the
play, since an act is so much of the business as is transacted without
interruption. Rowe, by this licence, easily extricates himself from
difficulties; as in Jane Grey, when we have been terrified with all the
dreadful pomp of public execution; and are wondering how the heroine
or the poet will proceed, no sooner has Jane pronounced some prophetic
rhymes than--pass and be gone--the scene closes, and Pembroke and
Gardiner are turned out upon the stage.

I know not that there can be found in his plays any deep search into
nature, any accurate discriminations of kindred qualities, or nice
display of passion in its progress; all is general and undefined. Nor
does he much interest or affect the auditor, except in Jane Shore,
who is always seen and heard with pity. Alicia is a character of empty
noise, with no resemblance to real sorrow or to natural madness.

Whence, then, has Rowe his reputation? From the reasonableness and
propriety of some of his scenes, from the elegance of his diction, and
the suavity of his verse. He seldom moves either pity or terror, but
he often elevates the sentiments; he seldom pierces the breast, but
he always delights the ear, and often improves the understanding. His
translation of the "Golden Verses," and of the first book of Quillet's
poem, have nothing in them remarkable. The "Golden Verses" are tedious.

The version of Lucan is one of the greatest productions of English
poetry, for there is perhaps none that so completely exhibits the
genius and spirit of the original. Lucan is distinguished by a kind
of dictatorial or philosophic dignity, rather, as Quintilian observes,
declamatory than poetical; full of ambitious morality and pointed
sentences, comprised in vigorous and animated lines. This character Rowe
has very diligently and successfully preserved. His versification,
which is such as his contemporaries practised, without any attempt at
innovation or improvement, seldom wants either melody or force. His
author's sense is sometimes a little diluted by additional infusions,
and sometimes weakened by too much expansion. But such faults are to
be expected in all translations, from the constraint of measures and
dissimilitude of l