183.) Perhaps, however, these may be what Mr. Galt means by "epochal events."

Mr. Galt informs us his object has been to "study the general appearance, rather than those particular markings which distinguish personal from historical portraiture. His pencil has been withheld from warts, scars, and freckles, but the nobler features have been painted with industrious care."

Whether the following important facts are to be classed among warts, scars, and freckles," or to rank among the "nobler features" which have been " painted with industrious care," the reader will judge for himself. We can only say a very large portion of the work consists of nothing better.

He (Wilkes) was placed in the grammar-school, where he made some progress; and had a writing master to attend him thrice a week.

Wilkes and his family had a quick and prosperous voyage to Parkgate, and as soon as they had refreshed themselves-(it is not "recorded" in any of Mr. Galt's "authorities" what they had-ale, brandy and water, or only a sandwich,)—they hired horses and came to West Chester, where they continued four or five days. From thence they came, in the stage coach, to London.

Mrs. Ashbury was punctual in her devotions, and did not fail to receive the sacrament once in every month.

Upon the death of Mrs. Mumford, her parts were given to Mrs. Rodgers; but when Mrs. Oldfield appeared, Wilkes thought fit to assign them over to the debutante. This was not done out of any pique to Mrs. Rodgers, nor partiality to Mrs. Oldfield, but simply because the latter was the better actress.

It was not, however, so much from any deficiency of talent that he (Colley Cibber), was not distinguished among his schoolfellows, as from his playfulness and indiscretion: indeed, his thoughtlessness even at school, exposed him to many mortifications, besides being whipped for inattention to his lessons.

On the 23d of April following, being the Coronation of the new King, the school petitioned for a holiday, to which the master agreed, &c.

It happened on a Saturday morning that the patentees received notice that Betterton's party were to enact Hamlet on the Tuesday after.

Such bald and puerile gossip, which would hardly be tolerable if it related to events of yesterday, is wearisome and trifling to the last degree, when referring to theatrical squabbles, or intrigues that occurred a hundred years ago.

One more sample of this sort of twaddle, to show what Mr. Galt considers the necessary ingredients of a work which is destined, as he thinks, to be one of " the most amusing books in the language," and we have done. There was once a Mrs. Charlotte Charke, an actress of great celebrity no doubt-though we never heard so because we perceive Mr. Galt devotes to her life as many pages, within four, as he does to Garrick, and nearly three times as many as he does to Mrs. Siddons. This lady, when a mere child, exhibited such extraordinary traits of character, traits so utterly unlike any thing which was ever heard of in a child since the beginning of the world, that Mr. Galt has very properly recorded them. We have not room for the whole of this astonishing little creature's exploits; but they who may wish for more than the following, have only to pay for the "Lives of the Players," and indulge their taste to a surfeit.

This eccentric damsel was the youngest child of Colley Cibber; her mother was just forty-five years of age when she was produced, and had not for some seasons before been in the maternal way; but, except by her father and mother, she was not received as a very welcome guest, a cause which has been supposed to have ministered to her misfortunes. She had, nevertheless, inherited from nature considerable talents, and a large endowment of humour and whim.

When a mere child, about four years of age, she made herself distinguished by a passionate fondness for a periwig. One summer morning at Twickenham, where her father had part of a house and garden for the season, she crept out of bed, and imagined that by the help of a wig and waistcoat she would be a perfect representative of her venerable sire; accordingly she stole softly into the servants' hall, taking her shoes and stockings with her, and a little dimity coat, which she contrived to pin up in such a manner as to supply the want of a pair of breeches. By the aid of a broom she took down a waistcoat of her brother's and an enormous tie-wig belonging to the old gentleman, which entirely enclosed her head and body, the knots of the ties thumping her heels, as she marched

VOL. II.

along with a slow and solemn pace: this covert of hair, with the weight of a huge belt and a vast sword, was a terrible impediment to her procession.

Being thus accoutred, she took an opportunity to slip out of doors, rolled herself into a dry ditch, and walked up and down the ditch, bowing to all who went by. But the oddity of her appearance soon attracted a crowd,-a circumstance which filled her with exceeding joy; and so she walked herself into a fever in the happy thought of being taken for the squire her papa.

During the following summer Mr. Cibber's family resided at Hampton Court, and the mother being indisposed, drank asses'-milk night and morning. Miss happened to observe that one of those health-restoring animals was attended by its foal, and accordingly formed a resolution of fixing upon the foal as a padnag: this design she communicated to a troop of young gentlemen and ladies, whose adverse fortunes rendered it convenient for them to come into any scheme Miss Charlotte Cibber could propose.

Mrs. Cibber's bridle and saddle were secretly procured, but the riper judgments of some of the young lady's companions soon convinced her of the unnecessary trouble of carrying the saddle, and so it was concluded to take the bridle only. Away went Miss and her attendants to the field where the harmless quadruped was sucking: it was seized and bridled, and Charlotte triumphantly astride proceeded homeward with a numerous retinue, whose huzzas were drowned by the braying of the gentle dam, which pursued with agonizing sounds her tender and oppressed little one.

Upon making this grand approach, Mr. Cibber was incited to inquire, and looking forth from the window beheld his daughter mounted on the young ass, preceded by a lad playing upon a twelvepenny fiddle, and a vast assemblage of dirty boys and girls in the rear. Her mother was not quite so passive as the father, but, in the opinion of Miss, was too active; for no sooner was the young lady dismounted than she underwent the discipline of the birch, and was, in contempt of dignity, most shamefully taken prisoner in the sight of all her attendants, and fastened by a packthread to a large table; and, what was worst of all, she was obliged to ask her mother's pardon, who was, in the opinion of the young lady at the time, the most in fault: such is, in all ages, the short-sighted injustice of man! -in this case, of woman!

There was indeed no limit to the juvenile vagaries and tricks of this maiden. She men tions herself, that in consequence of an old woman at Richmond having beaten her, she induced some of her playfellows to send as many as they could of her caps and small linen, that hung in the garden to dry, a-swimming down a brook that ran into the Thames, while she walked quietly home, apparently unconcerned at the mischief.

When we affirm, as we do most distinctly, that of such materials a large portion of these volumes will be found to consist, again we ask are they not sufficient evidence of the worst kind of book-making?

The truth is, we have looked in vain for any thing in this work which can entitle it to rank one jot beyond those ordinary "Histories of the Green Room," and "Lives of the Actors" which appear from time to time to gratify the lovers of small reading and hereditary jokes. Mr. Galt's style is as slip-shod and slatternly, and occasionally as ungrammatical as need be. He talks of "shrewdest perspicuity" (vol. i. p. 258); of persons being in doubt in which part Garrick "was the greatest master,"-Lear or Abel Drugger (Ibid.); of the three last," instead of the last three (Ibid. p. 27); of burying by torch-light being "a reverential ceremony" (Ibid. p. 315); evidently not knowing the meaning of the word, any more than he does of "venerable," as he applies it (p. 37) in relating a foolish story of Haynes ;—of an account being the most correct," where two authorities only are in question (Ibid. p. 50); of Nell Gwynn's resolution being "none daunted," of Colley Cibber being "regarded with some invidia" (p. 83); of Pope's giving Mrs. Oldfield a fling" (p. 91); of Mrs. Centlivre having "penetrated to the cells of the comic echoes in the heart!" (p. 124); of" innate and inherent principles" (p. 133); of Sir Godfrey Kneller's telling another that he, Sir Godfrey, was a better painter than him" (p. 151); i. e. " than him was;" of a lady "marching off with her spark double quick" (p. 166); of Barton Booth being "uxorious and licentious," meaning of course that he was constant and inconstant; of Garrick being the "greatest performer," speaking of him and Quin (p. 197); of a person's fame which had waxen wide" (p. 39), &c. &c. &c. Almost every page presents similar blemishes; similar instances of vulgarity and blunders.

But that which has given us most pain in the reading of these volumes, is their

ponderous jocularity when our author intends to be more than ordinarily facetious, a humour which unhappily besets him on all occasions. A broad-wheeled waggon, with a team of eight horses, does not drag its slow, rumbling length more heavily along than our author in his jocose moments. We will take one sample at random. After giving a wretchedly incorrect account of the affair of cutting down Shakspeare's mulberry-tree at Stratford, he thus proceeds:

The rumour of this sacrilege roused the whole community-not the extinction of the vestal fire at Rome, nor the stealing of the Trojan palladium produced a greater sensation. The inhabitants of Stratford, men, women, and children, gathered round the house in successive crowds; dogs stood sullen, and cats wrung their hands; and when they beheld the fallen tree, &c.-(Vol. i. p. 309.)

Is not this excessively droll? And in excellent taste, too? We wish we had room for some more specimens of our author's wit of the same brilliant character; but we must hasten to a close.

The work, as may be supposed, teems with theatrical anecdotes; but we shook hands with all of them the moment they appeared, as very old friends. The copyright of Joe Miller has expired; else the publishers might immediately obtain an injunction restraining Mr. Galt from using their property. He may reply, perhaps, it was not his business to make new jokes.-Granted; and we wish it were not his business to retail old ones, with as much glee as if he had just discovered them by the aid of some of his "authorities." We wish, too, he had been a little more careful in affiliating some of them. The well-known reply of Johnson, respecting Ossian, is ascribed to Quin, as if Quin had made it in reference to Johnson's own edition of Shakspeare! Ex. gr.-" Quin being asked whether he thought there were many men who could produce such an edition of Shakspeare as Johnson's, "Yes,' he replied, many men, many women, and many children.'" To make amends for this, however, we have the rare joke of Quin picking up an orange that had been thrown on the stage, and observing, "with great presence of mind, it was not a Seville orange"-cocknice', civil orange!!!

We have alluded to Mr. Galt's inordinate estimate of himself, and we cannot resist quoting one beautiful instance of it. "The PHILOSOPHICAL SAGACITY OF Cibber," says he (vol. i. p. 131), "has always been undervalued. He appears at this time to have had a very correct opinion of the state of the nation: it ACCORDS WITH OUR OWN!! I have long been of opinion, ever since I studied the details of Charles I.'s reign, that there always existed," &c. &c. And again: "I am one of those who cannot discover the great merits of the Revolution of 1688," (p. 133.) To this we beg leave to reply, that we are among those who can explain the reason; viz., because Mr. Galt has made the discovery of his own great merits, the certain and insuperable obstacle to discovering any thing else.

In the second volume there is a meagre sketch of the life of Mrs. Siddons, and at the end, this sagacious postscript: 8th June, 1831. After the proof of this sheet had been corrected for the press, the newspapers of the evening have announced the death of Mrs. Siddons. The Courier says it took place at her house in Upper Baker Street, at half-past nine o'clock this morning, and was not unexpected. [Did not that bright paper make a second edition to announce the death, and a third, to state that it was " not unexpected?" Surely it must have done so!] No remark can be made on the coincidence of the event; but it is striking that it should have happened just at this period."

It is somewhat more striking, we think, that a life of Mrs. Siddons should have been prepared before she was dead, for a work which was not intended to comprise an account of any living performer. The "coincidence of the event" we take to be this, that Mrs. Siddons's death took place just as the volumes were ready for publication. and that the publication was delayed to make the most of the windfall, by hastily scribbling a dozen pages about her to suit the occasion. Mr. Galt will not pretend to say that were Mrs. Siddons now alive, there would be any mention of her in these volumes. Why then resort to an artifice so easily detected?

We cannot conclude without observing, that the Life of King, in the second volume, is extremely interesting; but the reason why it is so is curious, as illustrative of the general merits of the work. The Life consists of twenty

four pages; about six of them only are written by Mr. Galt: the remainder consists of original letters of George Colman and Garrick, forming part of the Garrick Correspondence just published: and it was really quite refreshing to fall in with them, in the midst of the barren mediocrity by which they are surrounded.

THE GARRICK CORRESPONDENCE.*

THOSE of our friends who have read the review of The Keepsake, Oxford, and The Lives of the Players, will give us credit for variety, in our mode of treating works submitted to our critical judgment. We hate to be like one of our neighbours-a sort of Literary Paganini-always harping upon one string; and we are now about to imitate the profound reviewer of The Literary Gazette, and give one of those edifying criticisms which leave the reader totally in the dark as to our opinion, and devote a few pages to extract. There are, however, some works which speak for themselves, and that which we are about to notice, à la Jerdan, is one of them. It is true that our weekly contemporaries have had the start of us, and culled lustily from the book, so that our notice comes rather more than a day behind the fair; nevertheless, we suspect that we shall pick a few grains from the remaining chaff, as well as preserve some of the best that have been strewed about after gathering, by others. It is not a little curious to find The Literary Gazette chuckling over its imaginary priority, and to observe his clever and powerful rival, The Athenæum, reviewing the volume on the same day.

"As this massive volume only sees the light to-day," observes the sage of the former paper, "and has been but a short while in our pre possession, we may be excused from going into any detail," &c. Notwithstanding this little bit of swagger, The Athenæum (a work which we will not degrade by comparison, and published too at half the price), contains the same day, a far more entertaining review of the book, modestly announcing, at the outset, that "an early copy of the first volume of this interesting work has been kindly sent to them." In proposing to give a review, à la Jerdan, we do not mean that what we write of ourselves shall be rank nonsense, and that what we write of others depends on whether they ask us to dine with them and how they treat us; we merely mean that there shall be a page of extract for every line of original matter, and that we shall not trouble ourselves to criticise.

The Life and Times of Garrick were interesting, because associated with great persons and few there were who did not correspond with that eminent actor. From the extracts which we have culled, our readers will be able to judge of the interest to be found in six hundred and sixty quarto pages. There is a biographical notice of Garrick, which precedes the correspondence, and will, perhaps, form the subject of a distinct criticism; at all events, we pass it over for the present for what is infinitely more important. It is more convenient too-and this is an object --to pay no attention to arrangement.

Mrs. Cibber to Mr. Garrick.

November 9, 1745.

Sir, I had a thousand pretty things to say to you, but you go to Ireland without seeing me, and to stop my mouth from complaining, you artfully tell me I am one of the number you don't care to take leave of. And I tell you I am not to be flammed in that manner.

You assure me also you want sadly to make love to me; and I assure you, very seriously, I will never engage upon the same theatre again with you, without you make more love to me than you did last year. I am ashamed that the audience should see me break the least rule of decency (even upon the stage) for the wretched lovers I had last winter. I desire you always to be my lover upon the stage, and my friend off of it.

I have given over all thoughts of playing this season; nor is it in the power of Mr. Lacy, with all his eloquence, to enlist me in his ragged regiment. I should be very glad to

*The Private Correspondence of David Garrick with the most celebrated Persons of his Time. 2 vols. 4to. Vol. I. London, Colburn and Bentley.

command a body of regular troops, but I have no ambition to head the Drury Lane militia, What I wanted to speak to you about was, a letter sent me a fortnight ago. The purport of it was, supposing the remainder of the patent was to be sold, would you and Mr. Garrick buy it, provided you could get a promise of its being renewed for ten or twenty years? As I was desired to keep this a strict secret, I did not care to trust'it in a letter, but your going to Ireland obliged me to it. After this, it is needless to beg you not to mention it to any body; but let me know what you think of it, because I must return an answer.

I have no theatrical news to tell you, but that they have revived the tragedy of "Lady Jane Grey" at Drury Lane; and that Macklin has wrote a play, which I hear is shortly to make its appearance. I accept the pleasure of your promise of writing to me when you are in Ireland; and am, Sir, most sincerely, Your friend and very humble servant,

S. CIBBER. I have no commands, but my best compliments to every body that is so kind as to inquire

after me.

Mrs. Cibber to Mr. Garrick.

Feb. 26, 1745-6.

Sir, That I may be sure not to omit putting the date to this letter, you see I begin with it; but I think it was not altogether so judicious in you to remind me that I forgot it in my last; why would you not wait and see if the next would be a billet-doux? You must have given me the hint by way of prevention, so I have now laid aside all thoughts of writing in that style.

I despise your vanity, when you imagine my danger was as great from Mrs. Copin, as yours from Perkin Warbeck: my rival met with disgrace the first night of her appearance; and my not naming her when I writ to you about Perkin, was a piece of generosity scarcely to be met with in the female sex, for my rival was then dismissed the house. I think you are now silenced on this subject.

My love to Ireland is as great as yours can be, and I always think with respect and gratitude of the favours I received there.

As I have quite left off wine, I can only drink Lord Blessington and Doctor Barry in small beer, but to make amends, I remember them the oftener: I assure you I take large draughts, and that you may not despise the liquor, please to remember that Shakspeare has made one of his greatest heroes to repine after that poor creature, as he calls it. I tell people here that I shall go to Ireland next year, but between friends I cannot muster up courage enough even to think of crossing the sea, so that if there is not a thorough revolution of affairs here, I shall be an idle person again next season. I am glad to find you continue resolute against engaging with them; another season must shut up the house, if the job is not already done; and giving them a lift after the unhandsome usage we have met with, would, I think, be a mean, as well as an impolitic thing. There has been no office these three weeks at Drury Lane, but I imagine the Manager pays what he calls his principal actors, but the others make a virtue of necessity, and wait his leisure.

suppose you will hear of my refusing getting five hundred pounds for playing the "Beggar's Opera" twelve times. It is too tedious to relate in a letter, but I'll tell you the whole affair when I see you. I am most sincerely, Sir, Your friend and very humble servant,

Dr. Fordyce to Mr. Garrick.

S. CIBBER.

May 13, 1763.

Dr. Fordyce presents his best compliments to Mr. Garrick, and begs to be indulged in the pleasure of telling that gentleman some part of what he felt the other night at Drury Lane. It is impossible to tell him all.

He has seen Mr. Garrick in his other characters with delight always, and with admiration as often as the author will let him. But in King Lear he saw him with rapture and astonishment. He could wish, he could imagine, nothing higher. It was Nature herself, wrought into a vast variety of the strongest, the tenderest, and the most terrible emotions, that ever agitated the breast of a father and of a monarch.

In my opinion, Sir, those who have not seen you in that wonderful part, are still strangers to the extent of your powers. They have not yet seen Mr. Garrick. It seems to me the character, of all others, that gives the noblest scope to the career and the diversity of his genius. And I am much mistaken if, in the representation, he does not feel his soul