a hard-drinking Whig writer, a friend of Addison'sand afterwards with hard-swearing General Churchill. Still she went to court and associated with ladies of high rank; and when she died in 1730 lay in state in the Jerusalem Chamber, and was borne to her grave in the Abbey by Lord Hervey (Pope's sponsor), Lord Delaware, a beau, and Bubb Doddington. Pope ridicules her vanity in her dying moments. She had requested to be buried in kid gloves, tucker, and lace ruffles :

"Odious! in woolen? 'twould a saint provoke !'
Were the last words that poor Narcissa spoke :
'No, let a charming chintz and Brussels lace
Wrap my cold limbs and shade my lifeless face,—
One would not, sure, be frightful when one's dead,—
And Betty, give this cheek a little red.'"

WILKS.

In 1670 a young Irish government clerk, named WILKS, took Betterton's advice and accepted an engagement of fifteen shillings a week at Drury Lane. In 1679 he astonished the town by playing Sir Harry Wildair in Farquhar's Constant Couple. He became a careful, painstaking actor. His dress was perfect; he was as fashionable in his costume as Mr. Sothern. Ease, grace, and gayety were his, whether he put on his gloves, took out his watch, lolled on his cane, or took snuff. "Everything," says Genest, "told strongly the involuntary motion of a gentleman." He was so zealous in study that Cibber says he would recite a thousand lines without missing a word. His Mirabel, Captain Plume, Archer, and Don Felix were fascinating, airy, gallant, and full of fire and spirit. As a manager he was a bustle master general," irascible and overbearing. The death of Wilks in 1732 left Cibber dictator of the stage and the first fine gentleman. Wilks once read George Barnwell at St. James's to Queen Caroline. He said to Booth, who thought his ghost in Hamlet too blustering," Mr. Betterton and Mr. Booth, noble actors, could always play as they pleased; I can only play to the best of my ability." Booth used to say Wilks only lacked ear to make a great tragedian. He was the original representative, Dr. Doran says, of some fourscore parts.

COLLEY CIBBER.

And now, in our gallery of miniatures cut on cherry stones, let us not forget COLLEY CIBBER. He

had a shrill, rather cracky voice, a meager person, and pale complexion; yet he was the grandest old fop, the most empty man of fashion, the worst Richard, the best Sir Fopling Flutter and Lord Foppington that ever trod the boards. Steele describes him as admirable; rallying pleasantly, scorning artfully, ridiculing naturally. Wilks surpassed him in beseeching gracefully, approaching respectfully, pitying, mourning, loving. Cibber's exclamation, as Lord Foppington, when two lovers are united, is characteristic of his manner : "Stop my breath if ever I was better pleased since my first entrance into human nature!" Cibber originated nearly eighty characters, and wrote his "Apology," the best volume of dramatic criticism ever written. "He was the only adapter of Shakespeare's plays whose adaptations survive." He held his own against Pope, and became laureate; he helped by his Careless Husband to reform the stage. He was a gentleman who saw good society, and, after forty years' hard labor, retired with a good fortune. One virtue of Cibber's must not be forgotten-he would always take subordinate characters if necessary, and on them he lavished all his art. His Shallow was admirable. "His transition," says Davies, "from asking the price of ewes to trite but grave reflections on morality was so natural, and attended by such an unmeaning roll of his small pig's eyes, that perhaps no actor was ever superior in the conception and execution of such solemn insignificancy"

QUIN.

From 1736 to 1741 QUIN was ponderously grand at Drury Lane. He was the son of an Irish barrister, and appeared first at Drury Lane in 1715. Quin was three times dethroned-once by Delane, then by Macklin, and lastly by Garrick. In the loud-voiced, formal, oratorical way popular before Garrick's time, Dr. Doran describes his Hotspur as chivalrous, his Clytus as brusque, his Bajazet as fiery, while the duplicity of his Markwell and the coarse comedy of his Sir John Brute were unrivaled. He was a loud-voiced, sensible, and mechanical orator, who, as he grew older, became ponderous, formal, and languid. Davies says the tender and the violent were beyond Quin's reach, but he gave good words dignity by his sensible elocution and well-regulated voice. His Falstaff was unctuous,

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but probably not so good as Henderson's. Booth to Garrick he held Cato, Brutus, Volpone, and Zanga against all comers. When Garrick appeared, Quin said, "He is the Whitefield of the stage, but the people will soon come back to church again!" We have a sketch of Quin in 1750, in his old age, when he was fat, battered, and uncouth, playing young Charmont in a long grisly half-powdered old periwig hanging low down on his breast, a heavy scarlet coat, black stockings, square-toed shoes with Bristol-stone buckles, stiff high white gloves, and a scalloped white hat. Only imagine such a lover!

In 1747 Quin and his young rival played together at Covent Garden in the Fair Penitent. Quin, in his green-velvet coat, big periwig, and rolled stockings, monotonously doled out the heroic verses with a sawing action. Garrick played to him with varied and natural voice. Cumberland, then a boy, was there, and has described the heavy-paced Horatio, when Garrick, young, light, and alive in every muscle and feature, came bounding on the stage: "It seemed as if a whole century had been swept over in the passage of a single scene." The show of hands; however, was for Quin, though the best judges were for Garrick. When Quin was slow in answering Lothario's challenge, a wag from the gallery, at once epitomizing the defects of the old style, called out, "Why don't you tell the gentleman whether you will meet him or not?" Yet-alas for the shortcomings of humanity !-Garrick played the young ardent lover in a short suit of black velvet stamped with broad gold flowers,

DAVID GARRICK.

Dr. Johnson, too, came to see Garrick protestingly, and afterward, at a tavern, ridiculed the false emphasis the actor placed on certain words.

Garrick's Lear was "full," as Mr. Fitzgerald finely says, "of tides of passion, grief, despair, rage, and fury, and a pathetic hopelessness and abandonment." The transitions from rage to despair kept the audience in a tumult of conflicting passions, and the performance was interrupted by open sobs and weeping. "In short, sir," as Macklin used to say, "the little dog made a chef-d'œuvre of it."

In 1742 Garrick played Richard, Bayes, and Lear, at Drury Lane. In 1747 an Irishman, named Lacy, who had started Ranelagh, admitted Garrick as a partner in the management of Drury Lane under a new patent. Garrick was to receive £500 a year as manager, and £500 as actor. Macklin, Kitty Clive, and "Peg" Woffington were in the new company. The season opened in 1748 with Shylock, the prologue from the pen of Dr. Johnson, and Woffington spoke the epilogue. Later, Barry was Pierre, and Mrs. Cibber Belvedera. Garrick also appeared as Macbeth, with all the Davenant nonsense pared away. He played the savage Thane in a scarlet coat, silver-laced waistcoat, wig, and kneebreeches.

In 1750 Garrick, deserted by Barry, Woffington, Cibber, and Macklin, opened the theater, aided by Woodward, Clive, Pritchard, and Miss Bellamy. At the rival house Barry played Romeo. Garrick competed with him in the same part, Miss Bellamy playing Juliet. Barry's melting eyes, plaintive voice, and harmonious features were pitted against Garrick's grace, vivacity, and fire. The ladies declared that in the balcony-scene they should have expected Garrick to take the balcony by storm, but that they should have jumped down into Barry's arms. Barry excelled in the garden, Garrick in the Friar scene. Barry was preferred in the first part of the tomb, Garrick in the dying scene. Eventually, however, Garrick dropped the part from his répertoire, as he did Othello and Hotspur. Barry gained the day;