noble lord who was the ringleader, relenting the next day, in his cooler moments, of this outrage, sent a bank note of a hundred pounds to the manager; but this was a very small reparation of the damage sustained. Upon this occasion the guards remained

neuter.

Another tumult happened at the same theatre a very short time after, on account of the managers continuing raised prices to old entertainments, but this conflict ended without any bloodshed, or even scene slaughter. After two or three nights' disturbance, a country gentleman was taken out of the upper boxes (the civil power only acting) and carried before Justice Deveil, but as usual his worship declined going through with his theatrical part. This unwarrantable step (though, perhaps, the constables might have acted by virtue of warrants) irritated the audience so much that they insisted upon Mr. Fleetwood's coming upon the stage; but as he was not an actor, he pleaded the privilege of being exempted from appearing on the public stage; but sent them word, that he was ready to confer with any number that should be deputed to meet him in the green-room. The representatives of the audience were accordingly chosen, and so completely executed their commission, as to obtain of the manager all they requested.

But the most general opposition to theatrical measures was upon another occasion, at the Little Theatre in the Haymarket; and as this affair merits more serious attention than either of the former, the reader will, doubtless, not be displeased to meet with a few previous reflections, which it is hoped will not appear impertinent.

The French tongue had, by the artifice of Louis the Fourteenth's administration, been industriously promulgated throughout Europe; it was spoken at all the courts, and bid fair to be the universal language; a necessary step, according to the opinion of that all-grasping prince, towards universal empire. To this end comedians were trained up in France, and at convenient times dispersed throughout the capital cities of Europe; and this was thought a favourable juncture for them to make their appearance at London. The proprietors of the Little Theatre in the Haymarket were so infatuated as to imagine French comedies would amuse and instruct the town, and absolutely introduced them upon that stage. But the public took the alarm, and even resolved to suppress the insult, as every true Englishman then considered it. The curtain drew up with the actors surrounded by guards, well knowing they stood in need of much protection; but this step no way intimidated the audience, who, being

resolved not to let them go on, began regularly with cat calls, then a volley of pippins, and thirdly a general discharge of rotten eggs. The proprietors were now terrified, more especially when they found the soldiers remain motionless, and quaking behind the scenes at the consequences; at length, as their last resource, they sent for Justice Deveil to read the Riot Act. But Sir Thomas, so far from being allowed to proceed in this business, found himself under the absolute necessity of ordering with his own voice both troops and actors off the stage. The warriors and comedians being now retired, the audience thought it was time to testify their resentment to the proprietors for their impudent and insolent attempt, and accordingly demolished without reserve all the benches, scenes, and decorations. Nor did the ambassadors of France and Spain, who were present upon this occasion, escape with impunity, but had a share of abuse to divide between them proportioned to their rank, and which they were compelled to hear, as they could not get away; the cutting of the traces of their carriages having been judged a very proper preliminary step to make sure of the honour of their company during this whole comi-tragi-farcical conflict.

The spirit which was shewn against the French comedians engendered many tumults, which the undiscerning multitude imagined equally popular and national as the opposition to Gallic performers and performances. This contagion spread from the Haymarket to Drury Lane, and furnished Quin with many opportunities of testifying his natural prowess, as well as his jocular persuasive abilities, which frequently succeeded. He has more than once appeased an audience by telling them a story, when they were elevated to the highest pitch of rage at the play not beginning in time. His famous story of the round and square trenchers is well known, and it is equally well testified that he absolutely told this story to a crowded house, one night when the play could not begin till the arrival of some of the royal family, who did not come till past seven.

The following anecdote is also related of him, but with what degree of truth the editor of these sheets will not pretend to determine. There was one evening a riot at the stage door, when Mr. Quin wounded a young fellow, who had drawn upon him, slightly in the hand. The spark presently after came into one of the green boxes over the stage door. The play was Macbeth, and in the fine soliloquy where he sees the imaginary dagger, as Quin repeated,

"And on thy blade are drops of reeking blood,”

the young fellow bawled out, "Ay-reeking indeed! What,

does your conscience prick you? You rascal, that's my blood you drew just now." Quin, giving him a severe side-look, replied just loud enough to be heard by him, "Damn your blood, I say, and then without the least hesitation went on with the speech; so that the major part of the audience scarce noticed the interruption. The only comment that shall be made upon this story is, that if it be true it was a proof of a most extraordinary presence of mind, vast coolness of temper, and uncommon fortitude; no small qualifications to perfect an actor; for not to be visibly flustered at any little interruption which he may meet with whilst upon the stage, or in the course of his speech, is one of those negative qualifications that may be put in competition with the more brilliant excellencies of capital performers. How few actors there are who, in similar circumstances, would not have deprived the audience of a material share of their entertainment, in one of the most principal scenes, the reader is left to determine from his own knowledge and experience.

I am sorry to find myself brought to that period of Mr. Quin's life which is equally disagreeable to recollect as it is to recite.

Every one who knew Mr. Quin whilst upon the stage must have been sensible that notwithstanding the rough fantastic manner which so much characterized him, no one was of a more humane disposition, or less addicted to revenge: this may be gathered from his behaviour upon various occasions, and particularly to the self-sufficient Theophilus Cibber. There was at this time upon Drury Lane Theatre a subaltern player, or rather faggot, whose name never made its appearance in the bills, and therefore will scarce be found in the annals of the theatres of that period: Williams, however, was the name he bore; he was a native of Wales, and was not the least nettlesome of his countrymen. He performed the part of the Messenger in the tragedy of Cato, and in saying "Cæsar sends health to Cato," he pronounced the last word Keeto; which so struck Quin that he replied, with his usual coolness, "Would he had sent a better messenger." This reply so stung Mr. Williams that he from that moment vowed revenge: he followed Quin into the green room when he came off the stage, and after representing the injury he had done him by making him appear ridiculous in the eyes of the audience, and thereby hurting him in his profession, he then called him to an account as a gentleman, and insisted upon satisfaction. But Quin, with his usual philosophy and humour, endeavoured to rally his passion. This did but add fuel to his antagonist's rage, who, without further remonstrance, retired, and waited for Quin under the Piazza, upon his return

from the tavern to his lodging. Williams drew upon him, and a rencounter ensued, in which Williams fell.

Quin was tried for this affair at the Old Bailey, and it was brought in manslaughter, to the entire satisfaction of the court and all who were acquainted with the origin and progress of this quarrel.

CHAPTER V.

The state of the theatre at the time of the Beggar's Opera coming out; its success. The fate of Cibber's attempt in the same way, and of the second part of Mr. Gay's opera. The origin of the licensing act; to whom we are indebted for it. Mr. Quin's further progress as an actor; engages at Drury Lane; the revolutions of that theatre; the uncommon applause he meets with in the character of Cato.

NOTWITHSTANDING Quin's great merit, added to the abilities of Ryan, Boherne, Spillar, Griffin, Egleton, and the two Bullocks, who were at that time considered as actors of the first class in their different walks, Booth and Wilks had so far the ascendency over the taste and judgment of the town that they carried all before them; and from the time of the run of the Merry Wives of Windsor Rich could never fill his house without orders, till he introduced pantomimes, and acted Harlequin himself; or rather, till he, with much reluctance, was prevailed upon to perform Gay's Beggar's Opera, which came out in 1727, and had such amazing success. Cato, it is true, met with great applause, but this opera had a run of forty nights longer than that muchadmired tragedy.

This uncommon reception of the Beggar's Opera induced Colley Cibber to attempt something of the same kind next year, under the title of Love in a Riddle; but how different was its reception from Gay's production! it was damned to the lowest regions of infamy the very first night, which so mortified Cibber, that it threw him into a fever; and from this moment he resolved, as soon as he conveniently could, to leave the stage, and no longer submit himself or his talents to the capricious taste of the town.

It was then generally thought that his jealousy of Gay, and the high opinion he entertained of his new piece, had operated so strongly, as to make him set every engine in motion to get the sequel of the Beggar's Opera, called Polly, suppressed, in order to engross the town entirely to Love in a Riddle. Whether Cibber did or did not bestir himself in this affair, it is certain that Gay and Rich had the mortification to see all their hopes of a succeeding harvest blasted, by the Lord Chamberlain's absolute prohibition of it, after it had been rehearsed and was just ready to bring out.

This naturally leads me to say a few words upon the origin