scenes of past enjoyments, does but augment the force of exitting evils. I returned pensively home, and invoked Sleep to compose my agitated

spirit Sleep, which, in the abfence of positive pleasure, is the first blefling in life.

RUSTICUS.

Wolfey he, however, did ample justice to the former more particularly-it was studied not only in the best conception of the part, but exhibited with fingular taste and judgment and from

this model Macklin has often acknowledged to have received great improve

CIBBER.

Of Cibber he has often faid, "that Nature formed him for a coxcomb;"for though, in many respects, he was a tenfible and obferving man, a good performer, and a most excellent comic writer, yet his predominant tendency was, to be confidered amongst the men as a leader of fashion, amongst the women as a beau garçon. Hence he excelled in almoft the whole range of light fantattic comic characters. His Lord Foppington was confidered for many years as a model for dress, hauteur, and nonchalance, which distinguished the fuperior coxcombs of that day; and the picture of him which we have seen in this stage drets, viz. a stiff embroidered fuit of clothes, loaded with the ornaments of rings, muff, clouded cane, and fruff box, would exhibit the best lefion to a modern beau of the versatiJity and frivolity of fashion,

His Richard, though it was a part he was much followed in, Macklin did not entirely approve of; he wanted variety of powers, as well as dignity of deportment, and his voice, naturally thrill, did not accord with the deep minded heroic Richard: his Jago and Cardinal

As a reader of plays, too, Macklin gave him great praise, which he had many opportunities of hearing, not only on the stage, but from often reading to the firit Mrs. Macklin parts that the withed to have his opinion on. This he condescended to do long after he quitted the stage, to the delight and improvement of of those who heard him.

In corroboration of this latt euloge on Cibber's character, we have the authority of one of the most refpectable dramatic writers of the present day, who has often heard him read the Comedy of the Provoked Husband, in order to instruct Mrs. Woffington in the part of Lady Townly. His reading this play was, to use the Critic's own words, " an impressive perfonification of each part, to that it ppeared more like a rehearsal than a mere recitation." He had, he confefled, what founded like aquaintness of voice in his tones, which did not altogether correfpond with the reading of the present day-but this he confidered as the coftume of an old picture which belonged to the character of the times, and gave it the value of an original,.

RYAN,

As to Ryan, though he claimed the lovers' parts in tragedy, and the fine gentlemen in comedy, and pofßefled them through a long life, yet he did not rife much above mediocrity-he was, however, a sensible inottentive man, and in several parts of tragedy, fuch as Hamlet, Orestes, Iago, Edgar, &c. fhewed a knowledge of his authors which was well worthy the attention of rifing Actors.

"Poh!

The circumftance of his being shot in the mouth by fome street-robbers, though in some respect true, was not the cause of that defect in his utterance which the public both gave him pity and credit for he had a fcar ever after upon his upper lip from the wound, it is true, but it did him no farther damage. The story, however, was in circulation that he had a fine voice before this accident, and Ryan, perhaps wil. ling to favour this report, did not contradict it. Quin, however, who knew the real abilities of Ryan, and loved the man with a fincere friendship, could not help cracking his joke upon the occafion; for when Ryan was one day complaining to him of the inabilities of a young friend of his, whom he could not diffuade from the Stage, poh!" says Quin, "try him, perhaps he may yet do something." "I have," fays the other, " and nothing will do; he wants almost every requifite." Why then," says Quin, "burn him in the mouth, and that at least will give him the credit of a good Actor*." Under fuch masters Macklin had to form himself as an Actor. It must be confefied he had good opportunities; and, confidering the many impediments thrown in his way from original difadvantages, he availed himself of fuch mafters very creditably both for his talents and industry. He was a long time, however, before he could make any way on the Theatre he was, as we have before stated, at first rejected by Rich almost as totally inefficient-a repulfe which, to a mind less daring than Macklin's, would have deterred him from a fecond attempt-but he seemed to know the powers that then lay dormant in his mind, and the perse. verance he was master of, and his future success in life fully answered all his expectations.

When he was first let in to the Theatre (as he himself expressed it)-" for, Sir, my falary was so small I could hardly say I was engaged-his charac.

ters were very trifling-the mere faggots and fubordinate parts of the drama. This must have been very mortifying to a man who, in his probationary country excursions, figured away in Richard, Hamlet, &c.; but he confidered London as the great emporium for talents, and he trusted to himfelf for the reft.

An opportunity at last presented itself of taking him out of this drudgery by being accidentally caft in the Comedy of the Coffeehouse Politician, by Harry Fielding, brought out in 1730. This part was originally designed for another, who either failed in the representation, or was taken ill after the first night-fo that it was on the fpur of the occafion Macklin was thought of. He more than answered the Author's expectation; for if we are to believe his own opinion, his performance in it much contributed to the fuccess of the piece.

And, indeed, when we confider that Comedy had a confiderablerun, though much under the par of Fielding's general abilities, we are inclined to think Macklin did not over compliment himfelf.

His next step to preferment was in the Drunken Colonel, in the Intriguing Chambermaid, a part which Macklin valued himself much on, and was well received in; and yet, though be might have confiderable practice in the diflipation of those times, we must, from what we have feen of him in Sir John Brute, think him greatly deficient in the character of a rake of fashion. Woodward, who fucceeded him in this part, must have been much his superior-but Woodward was a Actor, amongst some others of that day, who has left his niche in the temple of the drama still uninhabited.

From this period, Macklin's thes trical glass pointed upwards, and he was called into a variety of parts which increased his falary and reputation, till the full extent of his abilities were difcovered in Shylock, in the Merchant of Venice.

From this fixed point of view, we shall now confider him as an Αθον, and enquire into what qualifications,

:

and

and in what lines of performance he was entitled to the praise of this character.

In his perfon he was above the middle fize, rather tout than well proportioned, with a marked eye, an aquiline nofe, and a face altogether that expressed more acumen than grace, or even than what we call openness of

countenance.

His voice was strong, clear, important, and fufficiently variable for the parts he generally played: he had likewife the peculiar manner of governing it, and hence the terminations of his fentences were as well heard, "even in the whirlwind of paffion," as in the middle parts-a point of attention which he supported ed to the end of his ftage life, and which he inculcated in all the various pupils he had under his direction, adding, by way of example, "Sir, there is no hearing nine Actors out of ten through the whole of a paffage, and it is nine to one but that the tenth man roars like a bull."

With these requifites he was always perfect in his parts, which he faid he by no means received from nature (having always what the players call " a hard ftudy"), but strengthened his memory from much private reading in his profession, as well as by attending to as many rehearsals as he could. Rebearsals, too, in his time, were very different from what they are at prefent-Players were not permitted to " mouth over their parts," and hurry from one paflage to another without attending to the enunciation or exhibition of the character-almost every thing was demanded at a rehearíal as before an audience-every perfon did their best to please, and their errors were either inodestly reprehended by the Manager or deputy, or by the mutual correction of themselves.

But hear how a cotemporary Author has described these rehearsals, of which he was often a spectator. "If a new play (fays he, speaking of the period of Wilks, Booth, and Cibber's admini. stration) was coming on, the first three readings fell to the share of the Author -if a revived play, it fell to the thare of the Manager who was the principal performer in it. The readings over, there followed a limited number of rehearsals with their parts in their hands. After which, a distant morning was appointed for every perfon in the play to appear perfect, because the

rehearsals only then begin to be of use to the Actor. When he is quite perfect in the words and cues, he can then be instructed, and practise his proper entrées, emphasis, attitudes, and exits.". Thus the rehearsals went on under the eye of a perfon who had ability to inftruct, and power to encourage and advise those of industry and merit, and to forfeit and difcharge the negligent and worthless. They foon found by experience, that regularity was the first step to success; and not only the merits of the great Actors appeared by that in their full luftre, but even those of the lowest class acquired a decency that faved them from contempt."

Macklin, through life, was an hearty amateur of his profession, and, of course, was always thinking and observing on what could induce to his own improvement and the credit of the Stage. Hence, the moment he got any afcendancy on the Theatre, which commenced under the management of Mr. Highmore, he began the office of drilling and organizing. "This man (fays Victor, speaking of Macklin) was at that time of feeming humble pretensions, but of capabilities to raisfe himself to the office of Lord High Cardinal." No doubt he was not without ambition, and was fond of thewing the power delegated to him by the Mana ger. Hence he was constantly informing his recruits how the great Actors managed formerly, that they were not only attentive to the performance of their own parts, but to the bye play which was always to be expected from persons interested in the scene-he enjoined them to keep their eyes from wandering over the house, either in search of admiration, or the loofer companions of their leifure hours, but to confider the audience, as con. nected with the conduct of the piece, " as to many cabbage italks," &c. &c. In short, those who remember him in the latter part of his life at rehearsals, as well as in the performance of plays, mu't have obferved a peculiar decorum, not only in the part he represented, but throughout the whole piece-every thing run more upon all fours than utual, which very much contributed to the cunning of the scene.

As he grew old, he was, at times, a little too dictatorial in these rehearfals; and when he defired a thing to be done, which was not readily complied with, he would let loose the natural irritability

4

irritability of his temper, and affume a tone too managerial-he likewife would grow tedious in arranging the etiquette of the scene in respect to fitting or standing, croffing the stage or remaining still, and many other little peculiarities, that in a great measure must be left to the difcretion of the per former. At one of his late rehearsals of the Man of the World, he was going on in this kind of way, when a performer, not a little goaded at this school-boy kind of treatment, tartly observed, "Why, d-nit, Mr. Mack lin, you don't mean to teach me the A. B. C. of my profession at this time of day?" "No, Sir," says Macklin, affuming one of his civil farcattic leers, " I only wanted to teach you man

ners."

Of his Shylock in the Merchant of Venice we have a number of living witnesses as evidences of its being one of the finest pieces of modern acting; and there are passages in it, particularly in the third act, which exhibit the contrafting paffions of grief for his daughter's elopement, and joy at Antonio's misfortunes, which demand an uncommon verfatility of powers. This and the whole of the trial scene we may fafely pronounce have not been equalled at least fince Macklin had possession of the part. Many have fince attempted it, and with confiderable success-such as the late Mr. Henderson, the present Mr. Murray, and Mr. Cooke; each of which would be principals, but for Macklin's fuperior abilities, which have placed them in the second class. To Henderson's Shylock the veteran himself paid this compliment, when asked, Whether he was entitled to that popular applause which he received ? "Sir, there is no putting out the light of the fun-the young fellow has very confiderable merit." At Murray's Shylock he was so infenfible

VOL. XLI. JAN. 1802.

(fuch was the deranged state of Mack. lin's intellect at the time), that he frequently asked, in the course of the representation, what play it was? He then seemed to recollect himself, and fcrew up his attention to the scene, but nature was too imbecile for any fort of mental combination. All these succeeding Shylocks, though just and pleasing portraits of the character, wanted the original firmness and colouring of Macklin's pencil. There was, beside his judgment, which went to the study of every line of it, fuch an iron visaged look, fuch a relentless favage cait of manners, that the audience seemed to thrink from the character, nor could they recover the true tone of their feelings till the merchant was liberated from the fangs of fuch a merciless creditor. Cooke seems to be the nearest the original of any we have

ever seen.

His Sir Pertinax Mac Sycophant in the Man of the World, and Sir Archy Mac Sarcasm in Love-a-la-Mode-characters both drawn and performed by himfelf -did equal credit to his pen and performance. They are both cunning plodding men of intrigue and knowledge of the world, and they were both given in a fine style of colouring and difcrimination - the difficulty of an Englishman keeping up the Scotch accent, through the whole of a five act piece, may likewife be numbered amongst the merits of this Actor.

The above three characters being the only ones that the rifing generation can remember him in-we shall now proceed to others (which can be remembered but by a few) in which he had great celebrity-fuch as his Iago, Sir Gilbert Wrangle, Sir Francis Wronghead, Sir Paul Pliant, Tra. panti, Scrub, Lory, &c. &c.

The first of these (lago) we have seen him in about thirty years ago, to the Othello and Desdemona of the then Mr. and Mrs. Barry; and it would be difficult for any critic of the first reputation to name a play so strongly caft and represented. The merit of the two former we had frequent occafions to mention as of the first order-nor did Macklin fall short of fuch excellence-his gradual disclosure of the character, his feeming openness and concealed revenge, and, above all, his foliloquies, were so much the natural workings of real character as to demand

D