On Dramatic Reprefentations. 1Ot 
that no fuch perfon ever exifted. But as I tread, _ 
I fuffer the writer to lead me into the fame kind 
of reverie which I had in the former inftance 
created for myfelf; and I follow him with the 
greater eafe, as my mind is not encumbered with 
the labour of invention, but paffively admits thofe 
reprefentations of action and difcourfe, which he 
has wrought into fuch an admirable refemblance of 
nature. I foon become fo rivetted to the book, that 
external objects are obliterated tome. I pity, glow, 
admire; my eyes are fuffufed; I fob; Iam even 
audible in my expreffions of fympathy; till a meffage 
breaks the charm, and fummons me away, full of 
fhame at the real tokens remaining of emotions 
founded on fiction. Now will any one, fairly con- 
fulting his feelings, affert that in fuch a cafe he 
weeps merely from the reflexion on poffible human 
calamities; and that Le Fevre is not for the time 
a real perfon in his imagination? 
Once more—I read in Tacitus the highly-wrought 
defcription given by that hiftorian of the return of 
Agrippina to Italy, after the death of Germanicus. 
I feel myfelf much interefted; but from the rapi- 
dity of the narration, the want of thofe minute 
ftrokes which are neceffary to fill up the picture of 
teal life, and the intermixture of the author's re- 
flexions, the whole is rather addreffed to the intelle& 
than to the imagination; and I rather cry, ‘* How 
admirably this is defcribed!” than view a diftinct 
fpectacle pafling before my fight: But in the midft 
of ° 
