not in the sitter, but the picture-not the beauty of the original, but how it is to be translated into the language of art.

I am tracing the power of Mr. Kemble, and only incidentally here insist upon the poet's talent. Few men have written better than the passage upon the countenance of Roque : it is modelled after the antique, and Shakspeare would not have disdained it.

"No-Providence has slubber'd it in haste.
'Tis one of her unmeaning compositions
She manufactures when she makes a gross.
She'll form a million such-and all alike-

Then send them forth, asham'd of her own work,
And set no mark upon them."

The actor again showed his mastery in the art by the tone and manner of

"Give me thy hand, Raque."

and the expression of hopeless sorrow, when he faltered out "I'm past jesting with"-the interview with Floranthe-his fainting at her feet-the melancholy

"It has chanc'd, before,

That I have dream't this.-"

the hysteric laugh, and the modulation of the voice in

"I shall weep soon, and then I shall be better."

To which should be added the characteristic glow at the last

"For no man else could I restrain the transport
That gushes on my soul, when I have pull'd,
At last, one flinty father to my feet."

I have paid my tribute, tl:us, to the actor's genius. As to the author, what more need I say, than that his greatest power is in the Mountaineers? His diction is occasionally stiffened, by what are now the expletives, do and did :-his fable is not well involved, and has no unity. His two incidents follow each other, as they do in the Sierra Morena; and upon the whole he has not business for more than his three short acts. Had he amplified his fable, and strengthened his dramatis personæ, the reign of George the Third would have produced a tragedy, which in passion and character, in sentiment and poetic diction, was worthy of the brightest period of dramatic literature.

After the complete success of the play, the rival geniuses, whose convivial were quite upon a par with any of their other powers, sat down to enjoy their triumph. Octavian on this occasion relinquished his proud boast

"Thou hot and rolling sun, I rise before thee"

for he had been many hours in his course before Kemble rose from this perfect celebration. I saw the piece several times during its run, but found little change in his manner. He had by meditation so settled the part in his mind, that the successive representations were only stronger or fainter impressions of the same design.

What remained was an affair of business, seldom pleasant. Kemble, in his love for Octavian, had sacrificed much of the usual produce of his summer. Colman could not afford the worth of the performance; his season was short-his receipts moderate. What he could do, he did-he proposed the following basis of settlement between Mr. Kemble and himself. "Put me as the author of a new play out of the question. Let it be supposed that the sole attraction is yourself. Look then at the receipts during the whole number of nights-by Cocker, so MUCH. Then take a worn-out play, the 'Battle of Hexham,' if you will, for the same number of nights-deduct the second from the first, and let us divide the difference." There can be no doubt that Mr. Kemble would have gotten five times the sum, had he listened to the offers made to him by the country theatres: but looking to his FAME, the diversification afforded by a character so peculiar, so grea and original, was worth the sacrifice, large as it was, which had been made to it. Disappointment certainly was expressed upon the subject on the one part, and much regretted on the other.

CHAP. VII.

Mrs. Radcliffe's Romance of the Forest-Mr. Boaden dra matises it.-How to dress a Ghost.-Mr. Harris's recep tion of the play, and its author.-New Drury.-Mr. Kemble's taste in Scenery.--Mr. Capon selected.--His knowledge and unwearied pains.—Mr. Kemble's Perfect Collection of the Drama.-Drury at Colman's in the winter of 1793-4.-Morton's Children in the Wood.--Miss Poole's Ophelia.-Hamlet Drest a la Vandyke at Covent Garden.-The Pictures in the Play.-Munden in Polonius.-Mr. Kemble in Young Marlow.-Bannister, jun.Bold Stroke for a Wife.-Richard Tickell.-Mrs. Webb dies.-Miss Leake.-Dreadful accident at Colman's.Novelties.-The Grand National Theatre opened.-The author's Fontainville Forest.-Ludicrous night rehearsal of it.-Remonstrates with Mr. Harris.-New effect.Drury opens for Plays with Macbeth.-Banishment of Banquo's Ghost.-Mr. Charles Kemble in Malcolm.-Prologue and Epilogue.-The Jew by Cumberland.-Bannister.Bishop Watson's opinion of Cumberland as a Logician.Mr. Pye.--Mr. H. Siddons.-Lodoiska done by Mr. Kemble.--Glorious First of June.-Summer Season.-Palmer in Octavian.-Death of the elder Colman.

MR. BOADEN had read the Romance of the Forest with great pleasure, and thought that he saw there the groundwork of a drama of more than usual effect. He admired, as every one else did, the singular address by which Mrs. Radcliffe contrived to impress the mind with all the terrors of the ideal world; and the sportive resolution of all that had excited terror into very common natural appearances; indebted for their false aspect to circumstances, and the overstrained feelings of the characters.

But, even in romance, it may be doubtful, whether there be not something ungenerous in thus playing upon poor timid human nature, and agonizing it with false terrors. The disappointment is, I know, always resented, and the laboured explanation commonly deemed the flattest and most uninteresting part of the production. Perhaps, when the attention

Rr

is once secured and the reason yielded, the passion for the marvellous had better remain unchecked; and an interest selected from the olden time be entirely subjected to its gothic machinery. However this may be in respect of romance, when the doubtful of the narrative is to be exhibited in the drama, the decision is a matter of necessity. While description only fixes the inconclusive dreams of the fancy, she may partake the dubious character of her inspirer; but the pen of the dramatic poet must turn every thing into shape, and bestow on these "airy nothings a local habitation and a

name."

Notwithstanding, therefore, his alarm at venturing within that circle, which none but Shakspeare had hitherto trodden with success, Mr. Boaden decided to make his experiment, and ascertain whether the failure of others had not proceeded from defective preparation as to the supernatural incident, or from its imperfect or vulgar exhibition. I have, early in this work, stated my opinion, that nothing ever was more tasteless than the stage exhibition of the Ghost in Hamlet. The great author has written with his highest power: he has displayed unbounded knowledge of effect: he has given to frequent repetition the absolute power of novelty; and yet, as far as the royal shade himself is concerned, all this charm is dispelled by the heavy, bulky, creaking substantiality of the spirit. Whereas the whole of this "gracious figure" should look as if it was collected from the surrounding air, and ready, when its impression should be made, to melt into "thin air" again.

Perhaps the sublimest of painting is the figure of the Royal Dane, as he appeared in the large composition of Mr. Fuseli for the Shakspeare Gallery. It has what seems person, invested in what seems to be armour; it bears the regal sceptre; its countenance is human in its lineaments, though it inspires more awe than mere humanity can excite. How is all this produced? By recollecting some of the known principles of the sublime. By the artifices of the pallet; by keeping down all too positive indications of substance; by the choice of a cold słaty prevalent colour, touched slightly with the pale silvery tone of moonlight; by a step gigantic in its extent, and action of the most venerable dignity and command.

How far the author might be able to get such an effect attempted upon the stage was matter of much anxiety. He wrote his play with some care, he thinks, as to the diction (for he has never read it since); and after taking the opinion of certain friends and brother authors, he sent his work to

Mr. Harris, to whom, at that time, he had not the honour to be known. It is now with a mournful pleasure he retraces the interview he had with that gentleman in the library of his house at Knightsbridge-the smile with which he first of all announced his acceptance of the play; and then the peculiar glance of thought he turned upon me, when he proceeded to rid me of some obvious encumbrances to the action, sundry useless characters, and enforced the duties of compression, or explanation, or omission-all which, he said, long experience, rather than critical study, had discovered to him. There was a benevolence, a paternity in his manner, that won my entire confidence. A few alterations I had to make, but they were easily done. The author took his play home, not back, and left his new friend, the manager, happy beyond measure, sure that his play would be acted in the coming season, and really but little fearing the grand ordeal of the public.

I anticipate the reader's curiosity, whether, enjoying the honour of Mr. Kemble's friendship, I made him acquainted with the subject that now occupied me? Unquestionably I did, and he advised me to be satisfied with nothing less than a five-act play. As the subject presented itself to me, I did not see the possibility of working out the leading character to an importance worthy of his great talent; and as to the heroine, I had no view beyond the powers of a young actress, the wife of a friend; but all my arrangements of this kind were set aside by the policy of the theatre; the manager told me who must act the principal male and female part of my play.

Mr. Kemble at this time did not conceal (at least from me he did not) that at Drury Lane Theatre "they did not want plays; the treasures of our ancient authors were inexhaustible. Shewy after-pieces and laughable farces might be necessary; but what could be expected now in the way of the regular drama, that previously had not been better done?" This, to be sure, admitted of no dispute. Mr. Harris, I dare say, thought of the mighty dead with similar respect; but he acted in a way more beneficial to the living: and by steady encouragement of such talent as there was, punctual and even liberal payment, and constant vigilance and forecast, he stood against the greatest mass and variety of talent that ever combined into one dramatic company.

The new theatre was now rapidly advancing to completion; and Mr. Kemble's active mind had full employment in the preparations for the stage itself. As the dimensions of the new theatre were calculated for an audience, the price