Nor less he pleased, when on some surly plan
He was at once the actor and the man.

975

In Brute he shone unequall'd: all agree Garrick's not half so great a brute as he. When Cato's labour'd scenes are brought to view, With equal praise the actor labour'd too; For still you'll find, trace passions to their root, Small difference 'twixt the Stoic and the Brute. In fancied scenes, as in life's real plan,

So great that we knew not which most to admire,
Glutton, parasite, pander, pimp, letcher, or liar,
He felt as he spoke, nature's dictates are true,
When he acted the part, his own picture he drew."
EPIGRAM BY HOGARTH.

"Your servant, sir," says sulky Quin,
"Sir, I am yours," replies Macklin;
"Why you're the very Jew you play,

Your face performs the task well.”
"And you are Sir John Brute, they say,
And an accomplish'd Mask well."

Says Rich, who heard the sneering elves,
And knew their horrid hearts:

"Acting too much your very selves,
You overdo your parts."

98

Quin having quarrelled with Rich, and retired in the sulks to Bath, intimated his wish to return by the following laconic epistle:

This was answered by return in the same spirit:

"Stay there and be d-d.

Yours, J. RICH."

975 Sir John Brute in Vanbrugh's Provoked Wife.

989

He could not, for a moment, sink the man.
In whate'er cast his character was laid,
Self still, like oil, upon the surface play'd.
Nature, in spite of all his skill, crept in:
Horatio, Dorax, Falstaff,—still 'twas Quin.
Next follows Sheridan. A doubtful name,
As yet unsettled in the rank of fame:
This, fondly lavish in his praises grown,
Gives him all merit; that allows him none;
Between them both, we'll steer the middle course,
Nor, loving praise, rob judgment of her force.

990

Just his conceptions, natural and great, His feelings strong, his words enforced with weight. Was speech-famed Quin himself to hear him speak, Envy would drive the colour from his cheek; 996 But step-dame Nature, niggard of her grace, Denied the social powers of voice and face.

986 Dorax, the rough soldier in Dryden's Don Sebastian.

987 Thomas Sheridan, the Godson of Dean Swift, was born at Quilca, in Ireland, in 1721. After a classical education, he in 1743 appeared on the stage in Dublin, and acquired considerable eminence as a tragedian, particularly in the character of Cato. In the situation of manager he became very unpopular in that city, owing to his attempts to prevent any spectators intruding behind the scenes; and, being compelled to embark for England, was engaged during one season at Covent Garden. In 1756 he revisited Dublin, where the animosity against him had subsided, and was received with great applause. However he soon quitted the Irish stage and commenced lecturer on elocution, in which he met with signal success, and was honoured by the university of Dublin with the degree of M. A. At the accession of

Fix'd in one frame of features, glare of eye,
Passions, like chaos, in confusion lie:
In vain the wonders of his skill are tried
To form distinctions Nature hath denied.
His voice no touch of harmony admits,
Irregularly deep, and shrill by fits.

1000

The two extremes appear like man and wife, 1009 Coupled together for the sake of strife.

His actions always strong, but sometimes such,
That candour must declare he acts too much.
Why must impatience fall three paces back?
Why paces three return to the attack?
Why is the right leg, too, forbid to stir,
Unless in motion semicircular?

Why must the hero with the Nailor vie,
And hurl the close-clench'd fist at nose or eye?
In royal John, with Philip angry grown,

1010

1015

George the Third a pension was granted to him, and in 1763 he read a course of elegant lectures on elocution to numerous audiences in the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. In 1778 he compiled a Dictionary of the English language with respect chiefly to its orthoepy. He also published a life of Swift in 1784, and died in 1788. Mr. Sheridan was a man of considerable abilities, and his oratorical essays evince his talents as an author. He was husband to the author of Nourjahad and of Sidney Biddulph, and father of the Right Honourable R. B. Sheridan, M. P. for Stafford. As an actor it may be considered as a sufficient tribute to his merit to relate that he excited the jealousy of Garrick more than any other player. As a man, it may suffice to quote Dr. Johnson's character of him, "that were mankind divided into two classes of good and bad, he would stand considerably within the ranks of the former."

I thought he would have knock'd poor Davies down. Inhuman tyrant was it not a shame

1019

To fright a king so harmless and so tame?
But, spite of all defects, his glories rise,
And art, by judgment form'd, with nature vies.
Behold him sound the depth of Hubert's soul,
Whilst in his own contending passions roll;
View the whole scene, with critic judgment scan,
And then deny him merit if you can.

Where he falls short, 'tis Nature's fault alone;
Where he succeeds, the merit's all his own.

1026

Last Garrick came.-Behind him throng a train 1027 David Garrick was the son of Peter Garrick, of Lichfield, a captain in the army. He was born in 1716. In 1737, he with his townsman and instructor, Dr. Samuel Johnson, came to London to seek his fortune, where he first entered himself of Lincoln's Inn, with a view to the Bar, and afterwards entered into partnership with his brother Peter in the wine trade. In 1741, after experiencing some slights from the managers of Drury Lane and Covent Garden, he determined to make trial of his theatrical qualifications at the playhouse in Goodman's Fields, under the direction of Mr. Giffard. The part he chose for his first appearance was that of Richard the Third, in which he displayed so clear a conception of the character, such power of execution, and a union of talent so varied, extensive, and unexpected, as soon established his reputation as the first actor of his own or of any former age. In the whole range of low comedy he blended such a knowledge of art with the simplicity of nature, as made all the minutiae of the picture complete. Thus his Abel Drugger was as perfect in design and colouring as the dark and deep sorrows of the royal Lear. His fame spread through every part of the town with the greatest rapidity; and Goodman's Fields theatre, which had been confined to the inhabitants of the city, became the resort of fashion, and was honoured with the notice of all ranks and

Of snarling critics, ignorant as vain.

One finds out,-"He's of stature somewhat lowYour hero always should be tall you know,True natural greatness all consists in height," Produce your voucher, Critic.-" Serjeant Kite." Another can't forgive the paltry arts

By which he makes his way to shallow hearts; Mere pieces of finesse, traps for applause."Avaunt! unnatural start, affected pause."

1035

For me, by Nature form'd to judge with phlegm, I can't acquit by wholesale, nor condemn.

orders of people. At Goodman's Fields Mr. Garrick remained but one season, after which he removed to Drury Lane, where he continued till Fleetwood's mismanagement and want of prudence brought that theatre to the brink of ruin. Rich, of Covent Garden, availed himself of the folly of his brother manager, and engaged Garrick in his service; here he continued only one year, when Rich refusing him an adequate share in the profits, Garrick closed with Lacy, who was then the sole proprietor of the theatre in Drury Lane, for a moiety of the patent at £8000, which sum, by a strict attention to economy, he had accumulated. This transaction took place in 1747, and his joint management with Lacy continued with uninterrupted cordiality and consequent success, until the death of the latter in 1773, when the whole management devolved to the survivor. In June, 1749, Garrick married Mademoiselle Violetta, a native of Vienna and a famous dancer, first to the Queen of George the Second, then at the play-house; she was of unexceptionable moral character, and a protégé of Dorothy, Countess of Burlington; she was a beautiful woman, and was in such favour at Burlington House, that the tickets for her benefits were designed by Kent and engraved by Vertue. She secured and merited the attachment of Garrick, and the respect of his friends and

a large circle of society, and survived him forty-three years, dying in October, 1822, at the advanced age of ninety; dur