mediate dictate of his own mind. You could not prevail upon yourself to think that it was an actor repeating words he had got by heart, and endeavouring to suit the action to the speech, which is the usual idea of dramatic deception, and under which, while you applaud the performance, the idea and name of the actor are always present to your mind,-no, in the inimitable Roscius you forgot the representation, and thought only of the thing represented. It was not Garrick, but Lusignan, Richard, and Lear, that were before your eyes, nor was it until the exhibition was at an end that you had leisure to reflect upon the magic il lusion by which he was enabled to represent them so faithfully to your view.

In comedy he shone with at least equal lustre, and it is one of the most inconceivable things in the world, how one man should have been able to exhibit such an amazing contrast and variety of powers as fell within the range of his performances, in most of which he had nothing like a rival, and in none of which was he surpassed. The same set of features which, in the animating or pathetic scenes of a tragic part, could thrill the very soul, exalt it into admiration, or sink it in irresistible distress, were with equal art employed in the most delightful display of comic gaiety, or laughable humour. The strictest adherence to propriety was always observed, the droll never descending into buffoonery, nor the lively into extravagance. In no single instance, I believe, was he ever known to transgress the rules so admirably delivered by his Hamlet, or to outstep the modesty of nature; a temptation, which, ever since his time, and under the force of his example, few have been able wholly to resist. Wonderful, indeed, it is to think that the action, features, and demeanour which convulsed the spectator with laughter, in the Lying Valet, in Scrub, or in Abel Drugger, should be capable of so great a metamorphosis as was exhibited in the heart-rending distress of Lear, the tyrannic vivacity of Richard, or the terrifying remorse of Macbeth. Wonderful it is to think that something of the tragic cast of countenance should not occasionally appear in the low comedian, or something of the droll be exhibited in the hero. But alike true to nature in all the en

chantment that rivetted the temporary attention of the spectator, he never suffered it to wander into a thought of anything beyond the object presented to his view.

Mr Garrick's person was below the middle size, but exquisitely well formed, and manly. The power of his eyes, on the varied expression of which so much depended, has been noticed by every writer on the stage-subjects of his day, and may be more easily conceived than described. They were, indeed, so significant, and accompanied with such ease and propriety of action, that, except in long speeches, words seemed hardly necessary to indicate his meaning. It appeared to me, that their force was often unpleasantly felt by the other actors, who seemed to be embarrassed and overpowered by the scrutinizing keenness of his glances. Another consequence of his acting was, that the singular ease of his manner made other performers almost invariably appear stiff and awkward.

I don't know a better mode of conveying some idea of his excellence, than by stating an experiment I have more than once made, which was, after having seen Garrick in a particular part, to go the next night to see the same performed by another. Many persons, I dare say, still remember Lewis, one of the most lively and agreeable actors then on the stage. Lewis was announced for Ranger at Covent-Garden, the night after I had seen Garrick perform it at DruryLane. Fresh with recollection, I went, and, had I never seen Garrick, should certainly have been delighted with the manner and vivacity of Lewis, who, besides, was my countryman. To say that Lewis was very inferior to Garrick, is saying nothing. Though wishing to be pleased, and under the influence of a favourable prepossession, my disappointment was extreme. I was tired and mortified: Such was the insipidity of that celebrated comcdian's performance, when put into competition with the wonder-working powers of the English Roscius.

You will ask me, if I have seen among his successors any who were capable of reminding me, or who were successful followers, of this extraordinary man? There was one, proximus sed longo intervallo, who could have given some idea of him, for he seemed to have formed himself on his

model, and was not unlike him in figure-Henderson; but he did not long survive his master. John Kemble stood on very high ground, but it was his own: his range of acting was great, but confined; nor was there in anything the smallest similitude between him and David Garrick. Of the actors of the present time I know nothing.

- Mr Boswell, in his interesting Tour to the Hebrides with Dr Johnson, has recorded a critical observation made by an officer of rank and intelligence respecting Mr Garrick's performance: "He fails," said he, "sometimes in emphasis; for instance, in the part of Hamlet, preparing to address his mother, he says, I will speak daggers to her, but use none :-now, the empha sis should be on the word speak." Nobody defending the actor, the critical propriety of the correction was, of course, admitted. Now, I am inclined to regard it among the proofs of Mr Garrick's unremitting attention to nature in the performance of all his characters. He is supposed to be speaking the immediate dictates of his own mind, not a set of words learned by rote. In this view of the case, I consider him as uttering the first part of the sentence without any reference to the second. Considering within himself how necessary it was that he should awaken her remorse and contrition, by bringing her crime in full view, he says, "I will speak daggers to her my words shall pierce her very soul." Filial affection then takes the alarm at the word daggers, and he adds the thought instantly taking possession of his mind-" but use none:"-her life shall be sacred, however I may deal with the murderer of my father. This, if I am not mistaken, is the way in which nature would speak; and that it is so, I build upon better authority than my own— that of the incomparable Garrick.

I do not know how far these observations may be acceptable to your readers, to myself they have recalled many pleasant recollections. To you I am in part indebted for them, for they were in a great measure, if not entirely, suggested by a very sensible article in your 103d Number, entitled the Drama. Though now, and for a long time past, neither a frequenter nor an admirer of theatres,

yet am I not among the rigid disciples of that moral or religious school which condemns them as altogether unfit for a Christian country. I know of no divine precept forbidding relaxation from severer duties, or occasional relaxation either of body or of mind. There are, indeed, many individuals, whose grave and solemn functions are wholly incompatible with the pursuit of public amusements; but the great body of the people neither can nor ought to be divested of innocent and temporary pastimes. It seems, therefore, to be a duty of the State to provide such as are least likely to injure, and which may, as far as possible, combine instruction with amusement. For occasional recreation the people will look; and if something of this kind be not provided for them by public authority, they will find out something much more exceptionable in its tendency and nature for themselves. Mr Brougham, it seems, is for making them philosophers and politicians; a very dangerous experiment, I fear, and far worse than even ill-regulated playhouses. From these if they return unimproved, yet they will return pleased, and in good humour. From the philosophic institution they will come out anything but philosophers-they will come out with hearts full of ran cour, heads full of self-sufficiency, conceptions teeming with political projects, and minds soured with envy, hatred, and discontent. Theatrical exhibitions, in which the Church herself was once so deeply concerned, are so very captivating to the general sense, that if they could be made at once conducive to instruction and amusement, I do not see why Government should not take active measures to improve, amend, and extend them. That this is an impracticable undertaking, I can by no means discern; and if not, it seems well worthy of serious consideration. But speculations of this kind are neither suited to my habits of life, nor abilities of discussion. I leave them in better hands, satisfied that, if you shall think them deserving of notice, you have abundant means of doing them complete justice. I remain, Sir, your constant reader and friend, SENEX.

Cork, Sept. 6, 1825.

PROTESTANTS are in the habit of accusing the Church of Rome of a des sire to keep in darkness, rather than to enlighten, the minds of its votaries; but whatever may be the justice of the accusation as applied to the conduct of that Church towards its flock in Europe, it must be acknowledged that all our societies for the propagation of Christianity and the diffusion of knowledge, have done little, very little, to improve the intellectual condition of their brethren in the East, when compared with the extensive and unwearied exertions of this very Church, which we are in the habit of denouncing as the nurse of ignorance, rather than the mother of knowledge. One of its organs alone (The Propaganda) has done more to enlighten the nations of Asia than all our societies, with their enormous funds, have been capable of affecting, or ever can effect, under their present system; and had the operation of this institution not been clogged by bigotted and illiberal religious restrictions, and a load of clumsy and unprofitable scholastic di vinity, which in the course of instruction was reared on a foundation worthy of a better superstructure, we might have seen, by its means, the lamp of learning and knowledge lighted in the remotest parts of the habitable world.

There may be various opinions on the advantage of sending out missionaries to attempt the conversion of nations of different persuasions, but amongst reasonable men there can be but one opinion on the propriety of diffusing knowledge and facilitating instruction. One of the effects of superior knowledge on the mind of man is to awaken in him a desire to convey to others what he knows, and to point out the road, and make smooth the path which leads to the elevated situation to which he has himself attained.

Whatever then may be our feelings towards the Church of Rome, in re gard to other matters, we cannot but admire the magnificence and wisdom of that part of its system which aims at the instruction of a portion of the youth of all nations in the Propaganda, (a college established for the purpose,) where they are maintained and edu

cated, free of every expense, and thence returned to their native countries, civilized and enlightened-where the classic languages of Europe, and a portion of its science, are taught to the Syrian, the Copt, the Abyssinian, the Arminian, the Nestorian, the Chaldean, and the converted Jew and Mahomedan-while each is enabled to pursue the study of his own native language.

When sufficiently advanced in knowledge, the young men are employed as missionaries, as interpreters to ambassadors, or are returned to their families with a gratuity to assist them in establishing themselves at home as instructors of their countrymen. Thus is the influence of the See of Rome extended over distant countries, where the names of the greatest potentates of Europe are unknown.

If the Church of Rome has found in the Propaganda, the most effectual means of establishing and extending her influence, especially in Asia; and if that institution alone has done more than all the rest of the world to improve and ameliorate the condition of the Eastern Christians, and to add to their numbers; if experience has shown, that a man teaches with most success amongst his own people-why should we, who have been lavish of our treasures in the cause of humanity, disregard or neglect to avail ourselves of the lesson to be derived from the experience of others? If such an institution has proved to be so powerful an organ at Rome, why should it be less so in England? Let her, by one great exertion in the cause of civilization, of literature, of science, and of religion, raise up to herself the means of turning to advantage her liberality and her zeal. She will then receive from the nations of Asia, young men who will be returned each to his own country, in a condition_to add more to its stock of knowledge than could be added by the most learned foreigners. She will send abroad instructors who have engrafted her learning upon their own, and who have acquired knowledge without losing the means of imparting it. She will multiply instruction far beyond what she could do by employing only her own people; and she will then

Let them combine to lay the foundation on which all of them may hope to build.

Let the literary societies, and literary men of England, consider what advantages they will derive from the seminary. Let them remember that Rome owes many of her most valuable Eastern manuscripts, and much of her extensive though unavailing information on Eastern subjects, to the Propaganda. Let them consider what facilities will be afforded to those who desire to learn Eastern languages what a mass of Eastern information will be continually brought into our country, and what organs will be prepared for pursuing inquiries on every Eastern subject.

Europe owes to Asia more knowledge than she can ever repay; and England, more than the other nations of Europe, is her debtor. Let her come forward, then, and at least show that she is not unwilling to acknowledge the obligation. Let those who owe more immediate personal advantage to their connexion with the East, set an example of liberality and zeal, and let all men who believe that it is good to make men better and wiser, follow the example which will be set them.

Let us not be met by any cold-blooded doubts of the inclination of Asiatics to avail themselves of the advantages of such an institution. A large body of the Christians of Asia has already come forward to entreat from England, as a boon, that which it is our duty and our advantage to afford them; and .we have seen Asiatic Mahomedans

sent to England, at a cost which private individuals could hardly have defrayed. We have, therefore, no reason, no right, to entertain such a doubt, or to shelter ourselves under it.

Let some of those who have means, and weight, and inclination, to advance this work, (and we know there are such,) come forward boldly, and at once open a subscription for the esta blishment in England of a College, where a certain limited number of young men from the countries of the East, of all persuasions, shall be regularly instructed, free of expense

where they shall be taught the classic languages of Europe-where the mines of history shall be laid open for them-where they shall become acquainted with the more useful sciences

where they shall continue to study their native languages under competent European and native teacherswhere their habits shall be frugal, and their mode of life simple-and where each shall have it in his power to follow the tenets of his own religion. Let the College be open to all Europeans who are inclined to benefit by the means of instruction which it will afford, and let these be made to contribute to the support of the institution.

Let such a subscription be fairly commenced let us have a few good names and round sums to begin with

let us have one or two meetings of respectable noblemen and gentlemen to give countenance to the measure, and times are changed in England if it is not finished in a twelvemonth.