How much our Author employ’d himself in Poetry, after his Retirement from the Stage, does not so evidently appear: Very few posthumous Sketches of his Pen have been recover’d to ascertain that Point. We have been told, indeed, in Print, but not till very lately, That two large Chests full of this Great Man’s loose Papers and Manuscripts, in the Hands of an ignorant Baker of _Warwick_ (who married one of the Descendants from our _Shakespeare_), were carelessly scatter’d and thrown about, as Garret-Lumber and Litter, to the particular Knowledge of the late Sir _William Bishop_, till they were all consumed in the general Fire and Destruction of that Town. I cannot help being a little apt to distrust the Authority of this Tradition; because as his Wife survived him seven Years, and as his Favourite Daughter _Susanna_ surviv’d her twenty-six Years, ’tis very improbable they should suffer such a Treasure to be remov’d, and translated into a remoter Branch of the Family, without a Scrutiny first made into the Value of it. This, I say, inclines me to distrust the Authority of the Relation: but, notwithstanding such an apparent Improbability, if we really lost such a Treasure, by whatever Fatality or Caprice of Fortune they came into such ignorant and neglectful Hands, I agree with the _Relater_, the Misfortune is wholly irreparable. To these Particulars, which regard his Person and private Life, some few more are to be glean’d from Mr. ROWE’S Account of his _Life_ and _Writings_: Let us now take a short View of him in his publick Capacity, as a _Writer_: and, from thence, the Transition will be easy to the _State_ in which his _Writings_ have been handed down to us.