undoubtedly tend to keep up the necessary illusion that we are
witnessing scenes in real life, and the more they are acted up to, the
greater is the merit of the piece, and the more perfect the effect
produced. Now, Comedy rarely breaks through these rules; for, from its
nature, the events recorded are frequently comprised within the space of
a day; and there is the same regard paid (as far as it is possible) to
unity of place as well as time. Tragedy, at least modern Tragedy, (with
the exception of _Cato_ and one or two more) entirely disregards these
rules, and we sometimes find the hero of the piece has grown ten years
older within the short space between the acts, or else that he has
travelled from one country to another in the same period of time. Thus,
in _Julius Caesar_, Brutus, in one act is at Rome, and another in
Thessaly. Again, in _Coriolanus_, now we find him expelled by the
Romans, afterwards residing amongst the Volscians, and eventually
marching an immense army to the gates of Rome; all within the space of
two or three hours: this is a sad blow to any scenic illusion, and tends
to weaken, if it does not entirely break, the thread of the imagination.

There is one point in which I consider both Tragedy and Comedy, in
modern days, to be at fault, and that is in the constant introduction of
love on our stage. We cannot frequent the theatre without being sickened
by the repetition of some nauseous courtship and love-making, the
particulars of which, even in real life, can be agreeable to none but
the parties themselves. This blemish is said to have arisen during the
earlier periods of the drama, from the vanity of the female sex; who,
however much they were kept under control, and their opinions
disregarded in ancient days, have amply made up for that restriction
now, by taking matters of taste entirely under their direction. It is
said, that when modern play-writing first came in fashion, the ladies
refused to honour the theatre with their presence, unless their