always with Kelly. Mrs. Crouch benefitted greatly by his instructions. Their house soon became, after the play, the resort of many of the patrons of the theatre, and its proprietors. The hospitality was of the gayest kind. Something, in course, was taken by all who sat down, but temperance presided at the board, and the wit, that sparkled like the wine, flowed in just measure, and with good taste. The actress herself sometimes sat at table in the splendid decorations she had worn at the theatre, and so continued an enchantress till she retired to her room from the party. This, perhaps, had something in it of foreign taste; but it was infinitely agreeable. There I have met with those, who indeed gladdened life; and enjoyed the perfection of music, not imposed as a task, but sung from the gratification it afforded the singers, as well as that it gave to the delighted hearers. The reader may add, to this unaffected treat, the occasional surprise of Sheridan, arriving from a late debate, and evincing that he had a fertility of imagination which was absolutely inexhaustible. He may expect to find Mr. Kemble, too, in such a party; and there he, in truth, frequently was. Points of management were often settled in five minutes, at such a rencontre with Sheridan, that he could not be brought to decide by all the morning solicitations of the parties, who besieged his dwelling house. It is true, that what are called the little hours stole away imperceptibly in such society; but for this, the guest never had to apologize to either reason, decorum, or good taste.

On the 3d of May died Mrs. Yates who had been the most graceful actress of her time. The death of Mrs. Cibber in 1766, left her without a rival. I have, I think, noticed the enchanting music of her declamation and the elegance of her form. Her Andromache, and the monody upon Garrick's death, are what chiefly adhere to my memory. Mrs. Yates, more than any actress, or woman that I have ever seen, reminded you of classic times. The style of her features was not modern, and she courted a likeness to the statues of antiquity, in the solemn composure of her attitudes. She was the Poussin of the stage.

Davies tells a story of her starting into great notice, by acting Mandane, in the Orphan of China, during Mrs. Cibber's indisposition; and how she deceived Garrick, at rehearsal, when nearly perfect in the character, by affected ignorance: how, then, Murphy fell keenly to the work of tuition. and in a week or ten days, did such wonders, that Garrick saw her success to be probable. The story is inconceivably foolish. Mrs. Yates was not in a condition then, to play tricks

with her manager. Nobody at rehearsal affects ignorance who really has knowledge. If she possessed the power of the part, why delay, and ten days drudgery with Murphy, to be parrotted into his meaning? The truth is, that prejudice in the manager, produces timidity in the actress. Accident alone, excites the evidence of talent. When Mrs. Siddons, in Lady Anne, trembled at Garrick's Richard, I am quite sure that she did not think herself a great actress.

Had Henderson lived, there was a probability that Mrs. Yates would have joined him, and contributed her declamatory aid to the attraction of his readings. They would, no doubt, have recited select scenes from our best dramatic authors. This arrangement, it is likely, occurred to him upon seeing, in May 1785, how admirably she performed the Duchess of Braganza, for the benefit of the once celebrated Mrs. Bellamy. It would have been impossible to strike out a nobler diversification of Henderson's various talent, than Mrs. Yates could have supplied. The alternations of form, countenance and sex, would have had great value in the exhibition. Old Sheridan, reading after Henderson, was like that unfortunate animal called a dinner-bell, in a certain assembly; a heavy proser, whom nothing but the phlegm of a Dutchman can possibly endure; yet he must be endured, till the great performer has had time for refreshment.

Mrs. Siddons, on the 7th of the month, changed her character in Rowe's very interesting tragedy, Jane Shore. There were critics then, and there always will be, idle enough to justify a mere experiment, and decide against the most obvious propriety. So here, because the terrors of Mrs. Siddons were indeed great, they asserted, that it would be wise in her to assume the disgusting ingratitude, and the senseless explosions of Alicia, and resign the noble generosity of Shore as to her great betrayer's offspring, and all the gentle sufferings, which in her matchless expression, produced the most salutary woe, that ever dimmed the eyes of intelligence and beauty; I saw her Alicia, it has passed away like a turbid dream, leaving a pain upon the recollection, not sufficiently defined for expression. But her Shore remains there in all the lonely loveliness of its virtuous poverty; an image superior to the pencil of the artist, and which she alone could excite in the imagination.*

• I shall not scruple to intrude a grammatical remark of some importance, into a record of dramatic excellence. Let the spectator recall here the ef fect of one short word, in the line uttered by expiring Shore to her husband

"Forgive me !—BUT forgive me!"

and let them then meditate on the absurdity of defining such a word, an articulate sound having no meaning in itself.

As the opinion upon the comparative value of the two characters need not be left entirely to my own credit with the reader, I apprehend it will not be very difficult for him to pronounce the following exclamation of Jane Shore, before Glo'ster, superior in value to all the "frantic hair," and "waving floods of bluish fire" that sound like meaning in the mouth of Alicia.

"J. Shore. O, that my tongue had every grace of speech Great and commanding as the breath of kings;

That I had art and eloquence divine,

To pay my duty to my master's ashes,

And plead till death, the cause of innocence."

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Kelly has been already noticed on his appearance in Lionel. He had, what I at least thought, a better opportunity in Young Meadows, soon after, of displaying his science and musical expression. The graceful melody of Arne, "O how shall I in language weak," proved Kelly's feeling and taste to be greatly beyond all existing competition. The Rosetta of Mrs. Crouch was, at that time, inferior only to the Rosetta of Mrs. Billington; whose voice, be it observed, was not equally rich, nor her shake equally true but I have already dilated upon her accomplished and perfect style. She was the greatest of all English singers.

On the 14th of May, one of those irregular humourists, who are the fiddles of male societies, and are allowed to exceed all ordinary decorum, for the pleasantry expected, William Hewerdine, acted, for a benefit, Young Philpot in the Citizen, at Covent Garden Theatre; but it was a misnomer ; all his convivial spirit died away before the large and unaccustomed party, and he was to the last degree flat and unprofitable.

"Where be your gibes now, your jests, your songs? Your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table in a roar? Not one now!"

I have heard poor Hewerdine firing away from his sawcy cock-boat, upon that first rate, Porson; and laughed at the opposition of the modern to the ancient GREEK. Learning had an irreparable loss in the one, and conviviality in the other. The duller sons of either fashion or business may easily avoid their errors; but up to a certain point, human nature could not be more instructive than Porson, nor entertaining than Hewerdine.

This incidental mention of Porson reminds me of a curious circumstance, as to his prodigious memory. I was dining C c

with him at the house of a mutual friend, when, over wine, a very dull man became outrageous in the praise of Pope's Eloisa to Abelard. The professor began upon the poem, and recited it, with some occasional accompaniments, of imitations by two moderns, in Ovidian Latin; and, as a perpetual or running commentary, he repeated the Macaronic version, called Eloisa in dishabille, which has stolen into print, and been attributed to Porson, as he assured me, erroneously. Our wise friend lost all forbearance at this outrage. He would not endure such a profanation of the work of an exalted genius. He would have satisfaction for the buffoon tra yesty of his favourite poem." The man's head was wrong: but. taking him aside, I did at last hit upon an argument, that charmed away his anger. I asked him, "how he could think it possible for the professor to undervalue the poem? and what proof HE could give of his own yeneration for it, equivalent to the committing it so accurately to memory, together with three rival versions of such different complexions?" Goodman Dull then really laughed away his folly, and returned to table quite reconciled to his master.

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CHAPTER XIV.

Summer of 1787.-The Royalty Theatre.-The question stat ed.-Palmer before the Magistrates.-Whimsical conduct.· Colman's novelties.-Inkle and Yarico.-The Village Law yer-Winter Season of 1787-8.-Kemble alters the Pilgrim.-Dryden's Spleen. Mrs. Jordan.-Marriage of Mr. Kemble to Mr. Brereton's widow.-Excellence of that choice Bannister.-Mrs. Inchbald again.-King and no King.-King Lear by Mr. Kemble.-Fate of Sparta.-Cri ticism.-Mrs. Cowley and Mr. Merry.-Smith's last benefit.-Greathead's Regent.-Mrs. Piozzi's happy Epilogue.Grimaldi.-Lady Wallace.- The Ton.-Mrs. Abington.Beatrice.-Animal magnetism.—Singular anecdote.-Pal mer returns from the East.-Mrs. Jordan in Sir Harry Wildair.-Mrs. Siddons in Cleopatra.--Palmer amusing in Falstaff.-Leoni, Master Braham.-Mr. Smith's Farewell.

Garrick's more Judicious.--Old Sheridan.-Colman's Ways and Means.-Mr. Kemble's father acts in London.-The School for Scandal in the Hay-Market.

THE summer of 1787 witnessed an attempt of the elder Palmer to give to the inhabitants of the eastern part of the metropolis that essential luxury, a theatre. The appearance of Garrick among us in that quarter of the town had left a sort of dramatic longing, which was at length too powerful to be resisted, and, under the approbation of the Lord Lieutenant Governor of the Tower, the first stone of the building was laid on the 26th of December, 1785. The theatre stood very near Well-close Square; and the usual accompaniments of a play-house, taverns and public-houses, crowded soon about the site of expected gaiety and profit.

They who think that the play-house, under proper restrictions, may, from the associations it suggests, become not only an amusement but a lesson, saw a degree of oppression in refusing such a school of morals to that great division of the metropolis, or taxing it with such a personal toil or heavy coach-fare as must be inflicted upon the visitors of the pa tent theatres.

In examining the matter of a contest, it saves a world of time if we set aside the false pretences of the parties. Pal