BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE Published in one 8vo volume in 1818 with the following title-page: A View of the English Stage; or, a Series of, Dramatic Criticisms. By William Hazlitt. "For I am nothing if not critical." London Printed for Robert Stodart, 81, Strand; Anderson and Chase, 40, West Smithfield; and Bell and Bradfute, Edinburgh. 1818.' The volume was printed by B. M'Millan, Bow Street, Covent Garden. The work was re-issued in 1821 with a fresh half-title, 'Dramatic Criticisms,' and a fresh title-page bearing the imprint: London: John Warren, Old Bond-Street. MDCCCXXI.' Selections from the volume have been made and published along with other dramatic criticisms of Hazlitt's, but the entire work has never been republished. See the notes at the end of this volume for particulars as to these volumes of selections. It is sufficient to state here that the so-called 'second edition,' published by the author's son in 1851 under the title of 'Criticisms and Dramatic Essays, of the English Stage,', contains only a selection from the essays published in A View of the English Stage. The present edition is reprinted from that of 1818, with the addition of a Table of Contents. For the sake of convenience the name of the journal from which the essay is taken and the date of the journal are printed at the beginning of each essay. Hazlitt himself gave the dates (very inaccurately), but not the names of the journals. In some cases he gave the name of the theatre at the head of an essay. PREFACE THE Stage is one great source of public amusement, not to say instruction. A good play, well acted, passes away a whole evening delightfully at a certain period of life, agreeably at all times; we read the account of it next morning with pleasure, and it generally furnishes one leading topic of conversation for the afternoon. The disputes on the merits or defects of the last new piece, or of a favourite performer, are as common, as frequently renewed, and carried on with as much eagerness and skill, as those on almost any other subject. Rochefoucault, I believe, it was, who said that the reason why lovers were so fond of one another's company was, that they were always talking about themselves. The same reason almost might be given for the interest we feel in talking about plays and players; they are the brief chronicles of the time,' the epitome of human life and manners. While we are talking about them, we are thinking about ourselves. They hold the mirror up to Nature'; and our thoughts are turned to the Stage as naturally and as fondly as a fine lady turns to contemplate her face in the glass. It is a glass too, in which the wise may see themselves; but in which the vain and superficial see their own virtues, and laugh at the follies of others. The curiosity which every one has to know how his voice and manner can be mimicked, must have been remarked or felt by most of us. It is no wonder then, that we should feel the same sort of curiosity and interest, in seeing those whose business it is to imitate humanity' in general, and who do it sometimes abominably,' at other times admirably. Of these, some record is due to the world; but the player's art is one that perishes with him, and leaves no traces of itself, but in the faint descriptions of the pen or pencil. Yet how eagerly do we stop to look at the prints from Zoffany's pictures of Garrick and Weston! How much we are vexed, that so much of Colley Cibber's Life is taken up with the accounts of his own managership, and so little with those inimitable portraits which he has occasionally given of the actors of his time! How fortunate we think ourselves, when we can meet with any person who remembers the principal performers of the last age, and who can give us some |