Now breaking a jest, and now breaking a limb. A note to the second edition says—‘The above Gentleman [Richard Burke, _v. supra_] having slightly fractured one of his arms and legs, at different times, the Doctor [i.e. Goldsmith] has rallied him on those accidents, as a kind of _retributive_ justice for breaking his jests on other people.’ Here Cumberland lies. According to Boaden’s _Life of Kemble_, 1825, i. 438, Mrs. Piozzi rightly regarded this portrait as wholly ironical; and Bolton Corney, without much expenditure of acumen, discovers it to have been written in a spirit of _persiflage_. Nevertheless, Cumberland himself (_Memoirs_, 1807, i. 369) seems to have accepted it in good faith. Speaking of Goldsmith he says—I conclude my account of him with gratitude for the epitaph he bestowed on me in his poem called _ Retaliation_.’ From the further details which he gives of the circumstances, it would appear that his own performance, of which he could recall but one line— All mourn the poet, I lament the man— was conceived in a less malicious spirit than those of the others, and had predisposed the sensitive bard in his favour. But no very genuine cordiality could be expected to exist between the rival authors of _The West Indian_ and _She Stoops to Conquer_. And Comedy wonders at being so fine. It is instructive here to transcribe Goldsmith’s serious opinion of the kind of work which Cumberland essayed:—‘A new species of Dramatic Composition has been introduced, under the name of _ Sentimental_ Comedy, in which the virtues of Private Life are exhibited, rather than the Vices exposed; and the Distresses rather than the Faults of Mankind, make our interest in the piece. . . . In these Plays almost all the Characters are good, and exceedingly generous; they are lavish enough of their _Tin_ Money on the Stage, and though they want Humour, have abundance of Sentiment and Feeling. If they happen to have Faults or Foibles, the Spectator is taught not only to pardon, but to applaud them, in consideration of the goodness of their hearts; so that Folly, instead of being ridiculed, is commended, and the Comedy aims at touching our Passions without the power of being truly pathetic.’ (_Westminster Magazine_, 1772, i. 5.) Cf. also the _Preface to The Good Natur’d Man_, where he ‘hopes that too much refinement will not banish humour and character from our’s, as it has already done from the French theatre. Indeed the French comedy is now become so very elevated and sentimental, that it has not only banished humour and _Moliere_ from the stage, but it has banished all spectators too.’