success in life fully answered all his expectations. "When he was first let in to the theatre, (as he himself expressed it) For, sir, my salary was so small I could hardly say I was engaged,' -his characters were very trifling the mere faggots and subordinate parts of the drama. This must have been very mortifying to a man who, in his probationary country excursions, figured away in Richard, Hamlet, &c. but he considered London as the great emporium for talents, and he trusted to himself for the rest. "An opportunity at last presented itself of taking him out of this drudgery, by being accidentally cast in the comedy of the Coffeehouse Politician, writted by Harry Fielding, and brought out in 1730. This part was originally designed for another, who either failed in the representation, or was taken ill after the first night; so that it was on the spur of the occasion Macklin was thought of. He more than answered the author's expectation; for, if we are to believe his own opinion, his performance much contributed to the success of the piece. And indeed, when we consider that this comedy had a considerable run, though much under the par of Fielding's general abilities, we are inclined to think Macklin did not over-compliment himself. "His next step to preferment was in the drunken colonel, in The Intriguing Chambermaid; a part which Macklin valued himself much on, and was well received in; and yet, though he might have considerable practice in the dissipation of those times, we must, from what we have seen of him in Sir John Brute, think him greatly deficient in the character of a rake of fashion. Woodward, who succeeded him in this part, must have been much his su perior-but Woodward was an actor, amongst some others of that day, who has left his niche in the temple of the drama still uninha bited. "From this period, Macklin's theatrical glass pointed upwards, and he was called into a variety of parts, which increased his salary and reputation, till the full extent of his abilities were discovered in Shylock, in The Merchant of Ve nice.' "From this fixed point of view, we shall now consider him as an actor, and inquire into what quali fications, and in what lines of performance, he was entitled to the praise of this character. "In his person he was above the middle size, rather stout than well proportioned, with a marked eye, an aquiline nose, and a face alto. gether that expressed more acumen than grace, or even than what we call openness of countenance. "His voice was strong, clear, important, and sufficiently variable for the parts he generally played: he had likewise the peculiar manner of governing it, and hence the terminations of his sentences were as well heard, even in the whirlwind of passion,' as in the middle partsa point of attention which he supported to the end of his stage life, and which he inculcated in all the various pupils he had under his direction; adding, by way of example, Sir, there is no hearing nine actors out of ten through the whole of a passage, and it is nine to one but that the tenth man roars like a bull.' study,') but strengthened his memory from much private reading in his profession, as well as by attending to as many rehearsals as he could. Rehearsals, too, in his time, were very different from what they are at present. Players were not permitted to mouth over their parts,' and hurry from one passage to another, without attending to the enunciation, or exhibition of the character; almost every thing was demanded at a rehearsal as before an audience; every person did their best to please; and their errors were either modestly reprehended by the manager, or deputy, or by the mutual correction of themselves. "But hear how a contemporary author has described these rehear sals, of which he was often a spectator. If a new play (says he, speaking of the period of Wilks, Booth, and Cibber'sadministration) was coming on, the first three readings fell to the share of the author: if a revived play, it fell to the share of the manager, who was the principal performer in it. The readings over, there followed a limited number of rehearsals with their parts in the players hands; after which, a distant morning was appointed for every person in the play to appear perfect, because the rehearsals only then begin to be of use to the actor. When he is quite perfect in the words and cues, he can then be instructed, and practise his proper entrées, emphasis, atti. tudes, and exits. "Thus the rehearsals went on under the eye of a person who had ability to instruct, and power to encourage and advise, those of industry and merit, and to forfeit and discharge the negligent and worthless. They soon found, by expe rience, that regularity was the first step to success; and not only the merits of the great actors appeared by that in their full lustre, but even those of the lowest class acquired a decency that saved them from contempt*.' Macklin, through life, was a hearty amateur of his profession, and, of course, was always thinking and observing on what could induce to his own improvement, and the credit of the stage. Hence, the moment he got an ascendancy in the theatre, which commenced under the management of Mr. Highmore, he began the office of drilling and organizing. • This man (says Victor, speaking of Macklin) was at that time of seeming humble pretensions, but of capabilities to raise himself to the office of lord high cardinal.' No doubt he was not without ambition, and was fond of showing the power delegated to him by the manager: hence he was constantly informing his recruits how the great actors managed formerly; that they were not only at tentive to the performance of their own parts, but to the bye-play, which was always to be expected from persons interested in the scene. He enjoined them to keep their eyes from wandering over the house, either in search of admiration, or the looser companions of their leis sure hours; but to consider the audience, as connected with the conduct of the piece, as so many cabbage-stalks,' &c. &c. In short, those who remember him in the latter part of his life at rehearsals, as well as in the performance of plays, must have observed a peculiar decorum, not only in the part he represented, but throughout the whole piece: every thing run more * Victor's History of the Theatres. upca upon all fours than usual, which very much contributed to the cun'ning of the scene.' "As he grew old, he was, at times, a little too dictatorial in these rehearsals; and when he desired a thing to be done, which was not readily complied with, he would let loose the natural irritability of his temper, and assume a tone too managerial. He likewise would grow tedious in arranging the etiquette of the scene, in respect to sit ting or standing; crossing the stage, or remaining still; and many other little peculiarities, that in a great measure must be left to the discretion of the performer. At one of his late rehearsals of The Man of the World,' he was going on in this kind of way, when a performer, not a little goaded at this school-boy kind of treatment, tartly observed, Why, d-n it, Mr. • Macklin, you don't mean to teach me the A. B. C. of my profession at this time of day? No, sir,' says Macklin, assuming one of his civil sarcastic leers, I only wanted to teach you manners.' 6 6 "To estimate Macklin as an actor, from the various parts he played through the range of his profession, would be injurious to his reputation, as he was for many years the creature of necessity in the hands of the manager, and sometimes of vanity in his own hands: we shall therefore only consider him in those parts in which he ultimately settled, and which gave him that degree of fame which he was so just ly entitled to on the roll of his pro fession. "Of his Shylock, in The Merchant of Venice,' we have a number of living witnesses, as evidences of its being one of the finest pieces of modern acting; and there are passages in it, particularly in the third act, which exhibit the contrasting passions of grief for his daughter's elopement, and joy at Antonio's misfortunes, which demand an uncommon versatility of powers. This, and the whole of the trial scene, we may safely pronounce, have not been equalled, at least, since Macklin had possession of the part. Many have since attempted it, and with considerable success; such as the late Mr. Henderson, the present Mr. Murray, and Mr. Cooke; each of whom would be principals, but for Macklin's superior abilities, which have placed them in the second class. To Henderson's Shylock, the veteran himself paid this compliment, when asked, whether he was entitled to that popular applause which he received? Sir, there is no putting out the light of the sun-the young fellow has very considerable merit.' At Murray's Shylock, he was so insensible, (such was the deranged state of Macklin's intellect at the time) that he frequently asked, in the course of the representation, what play it was? He then seemed to recollect himself, and screw up his attention to the scene; but nature was too imbecile for any sort of mental combination. All these succeeding Shylocks, though just and pleasing portraits of the character, wanted the original firmness and colouring of Macklin's pencil. There was, beside his judgment, which went to the study of every line 6 of it, such an iron-visaged look, such a relentless savage cast of manners, that the audience seemed to shrink from the character ; nor could they recover the true tone of their feelings, till the merchant was liberated from the fangs of such a merciless creditor.-Cooke seems to be nearest the original, original, of any we have ever scen. "His Sir Pertinax Mac Sycophant, in The Man of the World,' and Sir Archy Mac Sarcasm, in Love à la Mode'-characters both drawn and performed by himself, did equal credit to his pen and performance. They are both cunning, plodding men, of intrigue and knowledge of the world; and they were both given in a fine style of colouring and discrimination.The difficulty of an Englishman keeping up the Scotch accent, through the whole of a five act piece, may likewise be numbered amongst the merits of this actor. "The above three characters being the only ones that the rising generation can remember him in, we shall now proceed to others (which can be remembered but by a few) in which he had great celebrity; such as his Iago, Sir Gilbert Wrangle, Sir Francis Wronghead, Sir Paul Pliant, Trapanti, Scrub, Lory, &c. &c. "The first of these (Iago) we have seen him in about thirty years ago, to the Othello and Desdemona of the then Mr. and Mrs. Barry; and it would be difficult for any critic of the first reputation to name a play so strongly cast and represented. The merit of the two former we have had frequent occasions to mention as of the first order-nor did Macklin fall short of such excellence: his gradual disclosure of the character; his seeming openness, and concealed revenge; and, above all, his soliloquies, were so much the natural workings of real character, as to demand the profoundest attention. It was, indeed, a most finished performance; and received the approbation of Drs. Johnson and Goldsmith, Messrs. Langton, Steevens, &c. &c. who composed part of the audience of that night, and whose judgments must be considered as decided reputation. "Sir Gilbert Wrangle was ano ther of the parts he was esteemed in. He generally played it for his own or daughter's benefit, and always drew the attention and applause of the public. "His Sir Francis Wronghead was by far the best of modern times, because Macklin could remember the manners from which the origi nal was composed. Fastidious critics, it is true, sometimes said, the portrait was rather too coarse; but they did not consider the difference of the times, when country gentlemen were almost a distinct race of beings from what they are now— their manners, their dress, their ideas, and conversation, all smelt of the honest plain soil they sprung from. The farmers were of a still homelier strain; as monopolies had not then given them the means of vitiating the whole course of their original habits, setting a bad example to others, and grinding the face of a laborious poor. "The Miser of Macklin gained him a considerable part of his early reputation; and we always considered it as a just and correct draught of the character. Shuter, we must confess, had more mellowness; but it diverged, at times, too much from the chastity of the original. Though · Macklin declined this part many years before he left the stage, he was to the last well received in it; and it was always one of the stock pieces which he engaged himself to perform in his articles with town and country managers. "He gave a quiet arch dryness to the character of Sir Paul Pliant, which was very congenial to the original, and very properly avoid ed ed those buffooneries which Foote, and others after the example of Foote, had introduced into it. The fact was, the predominancy of Macklin's dramatic character was. chastity, and he seldom or never played stage tricks with any of his parts. "In the character of Trapanti, though he wanted the flippancy with which it is now generally played, he exhibited that low arch comedy and intrigue which belong to the original. Modern Trapantis have the town-bred English Footman too much about themMacklin was the Valet de Place, which is certainly more the author's meaning: and yet, who that has seen King in Trapanti, would wish him to play it in any other manner than he does? "In the lower parts of comedy and farce, such as Scrub, Lory, &c. &c. he had humour, vulgarity, rusticity, and cunning, at his disposal; and he could lay his colours on the character he assumed with singular propriety. And push us from our stools.' "The performers on this could not resist a general laugh; which though Macklin feit for a moment, by growling out the word 'Buffoon,' it was not sufficient to restrain him from his project. "We have now gone through most of the principal characters which established Macklin's theatrical reputation; and taking him on the general scale of his merits, we may fairly conclude him to be an actor in some parts original, in many respectable; and in the walks of low comedy, and farce, one of the first in his own times. "Having considered Mr. Macklin as an actor, and appropriated to him, in that capacity, such talents as we thought he possessed, we are now to review him as an author, and a man. "As to the imperial walks of tragedy, such as Richard, Macheth, &c. which he latterly per formed, (with some abatement in favour of his knowledge in the outline of these characters,) they must be considered as the reveries of approaching dotage; and it is to be presumed, that his better powers,thor,' says Dr. Johnson, is a ge and better sense, would have restrained him from the attempt, especially before a London audience, who have greater opportu nities of judging and comparing. He met with many rebuffs in this latter attempt, and particularly one day at the rehearsal of Macbeth, from the late facetious Ned Shuter. Macklin had been teasing him about the propriety of some passage for a long time; at last, Shu "In the first of these characters he is to be sought for in his original situation, in order the better to see how far that, connected with his natural abilities, right accelerate or retard his progress. · An au 'neral challenger; and every man has a right to praise or blame him, according to the best of his judgment.' If we look round the general circle of authors, we shall find, however defective they might be in genius, the choice of subjects, designation, &c. they have generally some pretensions to literature. The books which they have read at school, or at college, first generally |