288 A N N U A L R E G I S T E R, 1794. 



dered more intelligible and con«;e- 

 nial to an English mind, it alone 

 keeps possession of the stage to this 

 day. 



Whilst tbepublic gave him praise, 

 critical envy was not silent. To be 

 a favourite of the muses in itself was 

 a stimulus to ill-nature; but for a 

 lowmechanicto woo such mistresses 

 was insufferable : — hence, amongst 

 other reflections upon our new dra- 

 matist, it was said, " The tragedy 

 was not his own ; or at least he was 

 sofarassisted by his noble patron, as 

 to leave him little or no merit ; that 

 they could evidently see the liney- 

 vjoolsey shoot itself wi th the silk ; and 

 that though some passages were 

 poetical, others were little better 

 than a prosaic history of the times." 

 A similar charge has been often 

 alleged against young authors, on 

 account perhaps of the facility with 

 which it might be made. A novice, 

 if he has merit, creates envy, and 

 persons possessed of this quality find 

 their interest in attempting to crush 

 a rival in embryo. A novice like- 

 wise, generally speaking, has not 

 many friends to defend him ; nor is 

 he himself dexterous enough to re- 

 pel the arts, the intrigues, and the 

 insinuations of the many; — he be- 

 sides all this cannot be compared 

 with himself; so that there are va- 

 rious assailable places about him, 

 which envy is quick-sighted enough 

 to :ee and to attack. 



Speaking of this as a general 

 question, and we speak upon some 

 experience, we believe it is not 

 once in twenty times that an author 

 rises into any degree of fame by 

 another man's labours, and by his 

 permission. Fame is not so easily ac- 

 quired, and when acquired not so 

 easily parted with, as 'to form the 

 common commerce of friendship ; 



the receiver of fame too, from the 

 inequality of talents, must soon be 

 discovered, and when discovered, 

 his pretensions are at an end. The 

 charge in the course of time has 

 been made against many, and yet 

 no one instance, we believe, has 

 appeared, that any great work has 

 been claimed by any but the origi- 

 nal author : so that we are pretty 

 safe in giving credit to any man who 

 publicly signs his name to a work, 

 except he has already shewn himself 

 incompetent to such credit for speak- 

 ing truth on that occasion. 



Upon the question at issue. Whe- 

 ther Jones was the author ©f the 

 Earl of Essex? there is all the inter- 

 nal evidence of its being a fact. 

 There is nothing in the writing of 

 that tragedy that may not be at- 

 chieved by the author of the poems 

 which M'ere already published in his 

 name, and universally acknowledged 

 • to be his. He had previously shewn 

 his tragedy, peace-meal, to many of 

 his friends, and has been known to 

 make several alterations, during the 

 rehearsal, on the spot. Jones freely 

 confessed the few alterations which 

 lord Chestevlield suggested, which 

 were in the two great familiarity of 

 language in some passages, and one 

 in particular, of changing the phrase, 

 " the house is up," to " the senate 

 is resolved." But, except these, 

 and some ari angements of the scenes 

 suggested by Colley Cibber, we 

 subscribe to Jones's repeated decla- 

 rations, " that the tragedy was en- 

 tirely his own.'' 



Indeed, if any doubt could arise 

 upon this subject, it must have been 

 long since cleared up by his two 

 subsequent tragedies. " Harold,"' 

 and " The Cave of Idra." This 

 last was brought upon the stage s©me 

 years after Jones's death, by his old 



friend 



