ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. We are sorry to be under the dreadful necessity of violating a promise, but the "Voice from the Catacombs" must not be heard through the medium of our pages. We have done as B. O. B. desired-his verses are burnt. We have to thank H. B. for his contribution, and also for his valuable suggestions. He will see that we have, in one particular, acted on them in the present number. The lines" To Maria" are too much of a good joke. To prevent, however, so accomplished a lady from sinking into oblivion, we will give one verse. "There's a voice so enchanting, melodious, and clear, 'Tis a foretaste of heaven that sweet voice to hear, The poor Greeks!-they are to be pitied for being the prey of so many "metre-ballad-mongers"-our correspondent will understand us. in The author of "Lines sent to the Author of Childe Harold forms us "that there is but little doubt they were received by Lord Byron, though certainly not acknowledged."--No wonder! "The rejected Newdigate" is not worth the trouble our friend B. A. D. has taken about it. The author of it is an egregious ass, too contemptible even for ridicule. "Extracts from my Brother's Diary-book ”—“ C. L. D.”—“ Reflections on Thomson's Seasons"-and many others are rejected. The "Wanderer”—“ Quizzing”—and "Country Friends and Lass" are under consideration. Want of room compels us to defer till our next number--" SelfLove"-the conclusion of Bassompierre-and Billingsgate Melodies. THE LITERARY LOUNGER. FEBRUARY, 1826. THE DRAMA. THEATRICAL PORTRAITS. "My sons! (she answered) you have done your parts, THE critical analysis of the merits and faults of living originals is a most hazardous and invidious task, without some compromise of self-judgment, the portrait is considered unfavourable and unfairly drawn, and so to exaggerate by panegyric, as to gratify personal vanity, is to destroy at once the object assumed-the impartial review of the subject; besides which, the actions of an individual while living, form a bad criterion for such judgment, his character is perhaps determined by the performance of a single action—but when he ceases “to be,” that action is placed in the scale so fairly with the other, and there is, comparatively speaking, so little of party feeling left, that something approaching to truth must necessarily be arrived at. The former part of this remark applies to our subject, the review of the real and comparative merits of the tragedians of the present day; that the heroes of the sock and buskin are vain men, must be allowed, and surely if the error is to be palliated, it should be in their case; dependant as they are on the favour of a large, indiscriminate, and capricious body, generally represented by the press, they naturally watch its movements with an eye of jealousy, and taught by the flattery of friends to be blind to their own faults, consider that which is really a fair and impartial, a malicious and prejudiced criticism. The second part is not quite so apposite. If an estimate of living E characters is to be fairly drawn, it is of those whose actions (as far at least as regard our inquiry) are public, and equally open to the gaze of all--and such is the case with the objects of our enquiry. The length which a few prefatory remarks has led us into, almost requires an apology-it convinces us, at all events, that the sooner we proceed to our immediate subject the better. The four leading actors" of the present day, are Messrs. Kean, Young, Macready, and Kemble, the latter of whom, however, divides the favour of both Thalia and Melpomene. Of the biography of these parties we shall say nothing, whether they saw the light within one year of each other, or were born at distant intervals, whether this one "made his first appearance before a British public" on the 1st of September at the Plymouth, or the other at the York Theatre, does not in the slightest degree affect our inquiry we shall speak of their merits as actors, as the supporters of intellectual amusement, and in stating the beauties which each possesses, shall not conceal those errors, which may perhaps, after all, be considered but as foils which make the real beauties still more evident. With varied qualifications, some the gift of nature altogether-rough as the unpolished gem-others in a great measure the result of years of acute and laborious study, and yet from that very circumstance, so much the more classic, and elaborately finished-one with a noble presence" and manly proportions-and another with a diminutive and insignificant person-yet each in his turn brilliant or pleasing—each with his peculiar excellence and peculiar mannerism—and each commanding a large portion of the object of their ambition, the attention and the admiration of the lovers of the drama! Hence it proceeds, that the admirers of bold and vigorous passion, and of the display of extraordinary energy, delight to hear the bursts of frenzy-or the screams of reckless desperation—-given utterance to by Kcan; those again who love the more subdued and classic style of stage oratory, will speak in rapturous terms of Young; those who can for ever listen to the voice of melody uttering the charmed sounds of patriotism or of virtue, the fittest themes for the voice of melody to charm with, and yet who love to hear the burst of generous passion, but not too roughly handled, will dilate on Macready's superior excellencies; and lastly, those whose object in visiting the theatre is rather the desire of pleasure, than astonishment, who seek for varied talent, and do not care for readings too deep or abstruse, admire the gay, the graceful, the still time-defying Kemble. From this slight outline, the characteristic talent of each may be known, we shall devote the remainder of this paper to the attentive consideration of the merits of each, and shall, in the first place, consider those of Kean. No one can seize with greater power than he does, the feelings, nor can any one more directly appeal to them; no one succeeds so well in harrowing up the sympathies of our nature, for often after slurring over a speech, he will burst out, with the voice of inspiration, "sweeping all before him." In the expression of jealousy, or of madness, or of hate, or indeed of any violent paroxysm, he is incomparably the finest actor we have. No one is fitter able to express the scowl of contempt than he is-the dark and malign workings of the "inward man are traced in each muscle of his countenance; he seems the miserable victim of hate in De Montford, or of avaricious passion in Sir Giles Overreach. And yet with all these powers of perception and expression, Kean is by no means a satisfactory actor; in seizing every chord of the heart, he draws them too violently together, and communicates a harrowing, indefinable sensation--besides which, a few, a very few, can identify themselves with those passions which his peculiar talents so well enable him to express: the consequence naturally is, that the generality of persons who visit the theatre, judging from their own limited sphere of observation, where they can never have witnessed the betrayal of the dark passions of the soul-doubt their existence altogether-so that, that which is the correct delineation of character, is frequently esteemed an overdrawn and exaggerated picture. Kean's genius may be compared to the mighty cataract, which tumbling headlong over the rocks, in its tremendous descent, first astonishes, but soon involves the eye and the senses in a variety of new, yet unpleasing sensations, differing widely from the placid lake, which reflecting on its bosom, the shadows of groves and palaces, pleases more as more minutely examined. The characters in which Kean has been generally supposed to excel, are Richard III. Othello, Lucius Junius Brutus, and Sir Giles Overreach. Of these, we consider his performance of Othello the best and surest |