แ

usual defence for attacks of this sort, directed by "friends," against Garrick, was that they were all mere "squibs," and full of good-natured "fun," and that they could do no harm. This was Foote's excuse. But in all these attacks is to be found a malicious sting, which cannot be so defended.* In Murphy this medi

* When the prompter asks, "Are all the places let?" he is answered— ""Tis the manager

Settles that matter: 'tis he that lets

The boxes for those nights. It makes our king
Of greater pith and moment: lords and ladies
All send their cards to him: he plays the parts,
Not for the public, but for his private friends.
But this must not transpire: 'tis ours, you know,
Still to deceive the town, and make 'em think
The boxes are with equity disposed."

Murphy then takes care to ventilate his own wrongs :

"Why such constant vent of brazen lies

And epigrams as implements of scandal?

Why such impress of scribblers, whose sore task
Doth scarce deserve the freedom of the house?"

The explanation is an unworthy insinuation :

Was, as you know, by the author of 'Alzuma'
Dar'd to fight in which our prudent monarch,
Declining open combat, most wisely chooses
By covert stratagem to annoy his foe."

They then see the ghost of Shakspeare, and tell Garrick.

"Gar. A branch of mulberry bore he in his hand?

Becket. He did.

Gar. I would I had been there.

His collar-say, was it unbuttoned?

George. It was, as I have seen it in the abbey,

Quite loose and open."

When the ghost takes leave of Garrick, he is made to say

"Fare thee well at once:

Yon window shows the morning to be near;

And thy once glowworm eyes, with age grown dim,
Begin to pale their ineffectual fire.

Gar. Hold, hold, my heart,

And you, my sinews, though you are grown old,

Yet bear me stiffly up."

Yet at the very time he was penning down this collection or unkind insinu. ations, he himself was on the most familiar terms with the manager.

tated attack was treacherous, for as we have seen, he approved of what had been done.

This wonderful composition held its ground for almost eight years; was acted even after Garrick's retirement, then gave place to the purer Shakspeare in 1780, and will never be heard of again. But Garrick's Romeo, Cibber's Richard, and Tate's Lear, are not to be so easily got rid of. As it was at this point that the slow decay of the stage seemed to set in, we may now take a glance at its fine company-the grand, strong, cohort which Garrick trained and directed the noble procession which was fast beginning to grow thin, and fade out in the distance. No such procession ever came again.*

* Dr. Doran has collected all that is important as to the lives of the English players, in his "History of the English Stage." What follows in the next chapter is another view, and will, I think, be found interesting, viz., a series of little sketches from recollections and eye-witnesses, and which will give us a good idea of what their characteristics were.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE GREAT ACTORS.

1772.

ZOFFANY, the theatrical artist, has painted a very characteristic scene of Drury Lane green-room, in which are grouped all the leading performers.* The manager himself sits to the left, in an easy attitude, his legs over the arm of a chair, declaiming some part for their instruction. Hogarth is in the middle, pointing to the instructor; while Mrs. Garrick sits with the rest, demurely listening-as though she belonged actually to the company. Even their little dog is there, and George Garrick, the faithful henchman, stands obsequiously, with his hand on his brother's chair, and, characteristically enough, is the only one of the company who is not seated. The whole has an almost domestic air the manager's wife always came down to rehearsals-brought her work-listened—and was deferentially asked her opinion by her husband; and though this devotion was often smiled at, and his favourite excuses to a claimant, "Well, well, I'll speak to Mrs. Garrick," often mimicked, there can be no doubt but that her presence and interest in the

* There are present Beard, Baddeley, Woodward, Aicken, Smith, Macklin, Mrs. Yates, Mrs. Abington, and O'Brien.

business, was founded on good policy, and had the happiest effect. For it brought order, dignity, and self-respect and as the chief and his wife, imported these courtesies and decencies of life, so they had insensibly the effect of bringing about a similar tone among their subordinates.

Yet Zoffany's selection seems arbitrary. It does not fairly represent the strength of Drury Lane,that wonderful company-which, for nearly thirty years continued so strong, sterling, and varied in its talents, with an almost classic solidity in their dealing with a part. This was indeed the merit of this excellent set, who were a perfect "school," with all that honest work, labour, study, and talent could train them in. No clap-trap would be endured, and if we look at their portraits-such, at least, as have been done by the skilful touch of Reynolds and Zoffany-we shall see what a power of highly developed expression they could infuse into their faces.

Garrick, while he ruled Drury Lane, might be said to have controlled two different generations of actors. The older one was by far the most remarkable, and was the choice and brilliant corps with which the splendid successes of Drury Lane were achieved. It included Macklin, Barry, Woodward, Mossop, Sheridan, King, Foote, Smith, Yates, Shuter, and Ross with Pritchard, Clive, Cibber, Woffington, and Yates. The newer generation who came during the last years of his administration, were, Parsons, Dodd, Bensley, Shuter, Weston, O'Brien, Powell, and the two Palmers; with Miss Pope, Miss Younge, Mrs. Barry, Mrs. Abington, and Mrs. Siddons. Towards

the end of his reign, when his retirement had been talked of for some time, a sort of insubordination and irregularity set in the indulgence in "airs" and humours, which have always been the curse of the stage, the good salaries, and petting of the town, began, and tempted the overbalanced histrionic soul to kick. Nothing, indeed, can be clearer, than that it was Garrick, and Garrick alone, that did all for the stage. At the other house, where there was no such control, there was constant disorder and decay: and the moment he retired, the gradual decadence which has continued almost to the present time, set in.

What a company to act great plays! what a green-room! It was, indeed, a fine classical school, where all were masters-not rude, raw creatures, taken as it were, from the plough-but who had served long years in the ranks. What full, round, brightly coloured figures! They stand out-we seem to know them-like historical characters. The parts in which they played, filled the minds of the playgoers who were fortunate enough to see them, and came back as something wonderful and satisfactory to think on. It is in looking over the wonderful series of theatrical portraits of that time-those noble mezzotints of McArdell, Smith, and others, who worked under the inspiration and direction of Reynolds and Zoffany--that we catch an idea of what true expression, and dramatic character, was then. As we look on these incomparable works, we seem to be looking at the play itself; the stately, sumptuously dressed, women; the wonderful faces and figures (figure, as well as face, teeming with expression) of the Kings, Woodwards, Footes, Westons,