fluous in the drama, which is considered to be a mere matter of opinion, and subject to that old and very false maxim: "There is no disputing about taste." They of course hold the mass of the people to be competent judges of dramatic excellence, and must needs suppose the principles of the drama to be not only undefined but undefinable. It is a little surprising that any such reasoner should ever take the trouble of writing a criticism; because he sits down to compose what is avowedly vague and inconclusive: and, having no common points of agreement with the rest of mankind, no granted postulates upon which to build, nor fixed definitions by which to work, proceeds entirely by chance, and is not only at variance with his neighbours, but al most inevitably inconsistent with himself. That a code of rules for the drama has not been laid down and admitted, is unquestionably true; but it by no means follows that, therefore, principles do not exist, from which such a code might be deduced. And some of those principles, though they have never been published in the specific form of maxims, nevertheless, like the delicacies of language, are, in spite of their subtle and volatile natures, understood and acknowledged by those few, who have ever considered the subject of the arts with more than superficial attention. Many of the most important among these principles are to be found in Sir Joshua Reynolds's invaluable lectures on painting, which furnish analogies and hints without number to the professors and admirers of all the arts, and which indeed completely refute that paradoxical philosophy of taste, that whimsical epicureanism, where floating phan

tasies constitute a world, and chance is made the basis of a system.

These annals are intended to furnish, for future years, a document, which may serve, perhaps, as a guide, and certainly as a chronicle. We hail the opportunity that now appears to present itself, of doing something toward the removal of that disadvantage under which dramatic excellence so peculiarly labours, and which so many feeling writers have poetically lamented, the disadvantage of posthumous oblivion. We rejoice that there is now some chance of transmitting, at least, a description of those efforts which are themselves incapable of transmission. For while the poet and the composer, the painter and the sculptor, may leave behind them the monuments at once of their genius and of their fame, the actor is doomed to flourish but in his life-time; or, at best, like the bards of uncivilized ages, is celebrated by tradition alone. The waters of time, which perpetually raise fresh verdure for the wreaths of others, flow but to sweep away the laurels he has planted. Here should be interposed the consolatory assistance of criticism-not the party-criticism which the fashion of December will promote, and the fashion of January superannuate: but that criticism which consideration has had time to construct of solid materials, such as may withstand the gush and storm of passing caprice. By the aid of such criticism, the fame and character of an actor, though not his works, can be intelligibly preserved and perpetuated: and recording testimonials may bestow a celebrity, which, however inferior to the glory of the direct admiration bestowed by posterity on other artists, will, at least, afford anticipations more gratifying

than attend the limited honours of contemporary fame.

Professing these sentiments and objects, we shall not be expected to deal largely in the style so popular at present, the severe, not to say illnatured jocularity, that sacrifices eve ry body and every thing for the sake of displaying itself. We are aware that many publications on the drama, as well as on many other subjects, have acquired a great sale by this kind of writing: but we are aware also, that, in a country like Great Britain, even the minority on any popular question is always large enough to allow an extensive circulation: and, though this were not the case, we would rather pursue what we believe to be the true, and know to be the moderate course, accompanied by a few who study, than rush intemperately along an opposite path, amid the acclamations of the multitude who read. Let us now proceed to relate, and to discuss, according to the principles thus explained, the theatrical occurrences of the year 1808.

DRURY-LANE.

The circumstances of this theatre, at the commencement of the new year, were not of the most favourable nature. The season had begun in the preceding September, under the management of the Right Hon. Richard Brinsley Sheridan, who was the principal proprietor, and of several concurrent authorities, some regularly and others irregularly constituted, some unwilling, and all unable, to regulate the concern. In former years the house had commenced its exhibitions a few days before Covent-Garden; but in September 1807, from some cause unknown to the public, probably from

a want of the necessary supplies, Drury-Lane was not opened till Thursday the 17th, though the Covent-Garden company had performed on the preceding Monday. In the first few weeks of the DruryLane season, there was, as usual, nothing of novelty; but on the 27th of October, a comedy, written by Mr Henry Siddons, and entitled, Time's a Tell-tale, was produced with great applause; and on the 19th of November, Mr Kenney's very popular after-piece of Ella Kosenberg made its first appearance. Mr Godwin's tragedy of Faulkener, which came out on the 16th of De- cember, totally failed, and was discontinued after three nights; and the Christmas pantomime of Furibond, or Harlequin Negro, acted for the first time on the 28th, was a great disappointment, not only to the public, but to the managers. The success of the earlier months had therefore suffered heavy drawbacks at the end of December; and the new year was begun without much chance of success. Little reliance was placed upon the judgment of the managers, and the proprietors had not the consolatory view of resources previously accumulated.

Decisions in the business of the theatre had been made by the Court of Chancery, and trustees appointed, and a board of management created, and many other arrangements formed, with more perplexity than advantage. The creditors of the theatre remained unpaid, the free admissions were innumerable, and the whole face of affairs was varnished with a splendid poverty. Some advantage, however, as usual, accrued from the partiality which the public had always entertained for this the

atre, a partiality resulting as well from the antiquity of the concern, and the fame of many among its old performers, as from the beauty of the internal decorations, and the comparative convenience of the passages and lobbies. These circumstances appear to have been the chief support of Drury-Lane against the brisk, though severe management of Mr Harris, the principal proprietor of the rival theatre-against the undiminished and almost inexhaustible funds of that flourishing establishment, and against the strength and popularity of the Covent-Garden Company. Nevertheless, it is but just to observe, that some share of that little good fortune which dropped upon Drury-Lane, may fairly be ascribed, if not to the judgment of the managers, at least to their candour, in the acceptance of new pieces, presented by authors without an established reputation. The neglect of good writers, and the encouragement of bad ones-the mortifications of merit, and the triumphs of influence, have long been evils de plored and exposed by poets and the public; and at Covent-Garden these evils have undoubtedly prevailed, of late years, in too great a degree. But in Drury-Lane, at the opening of the year 1808, there had been but little of partiality or of prejudice-not more indeed than seems to be inseparable from every institution of such magnitude: every author seemed to have at least a chance of acceptance, though he were neither an established dramatist, nor a friend of Mr Sheridan. Indeed upon this subject there was but one complaint to be made of the managers and that was, not that they took undue care of particular interests, but that they took too little

VOL. I. PART. II.

care of any interests whatever. For though, perhaps, any piece presented was used, when read, with tolerable fairness, if not with much taste, yet many of the manuscripts were in reality never read at all. They were even stored in so slovenly a manner, as to be often mislaid, and for ever lost to the author, who might have wished, upon their rejection from that theatre, to employ them in some different mode. The fate of Mr Melopoyn's unfortunate piece (in Roderick Random) has been known to occur repeatedly under this manage

ment.

Under this mild, but feeble and incoherent administration, it may easily be supposed that ambitious and turbulent persons were constantly creating opportunities for their own advancement; that the power of certain principal performers became great and overbearing; and that those careless habits of transacting business, which were so prevalent among the directors of the theatre, diffused themselves, as must always be the case, among its ser

vants.

In

Such was the management of Drury-Lane Theatre, such its circumstances, and such its prospects, in January 1808. The company, exclusively of the inferior performers, consisted of the following persons: In Tragedy, Mr H. Siddons, Mr Raymond, Mr Powell, and Mr Eyre; Mrs Powell, and Miss Boyce. Comedy, Mr Bannister, Mr Dowton, Mr Mathews, Mr Johnstone, Mr Wewitzer, Mr Russell, Mr Penley, and Mr Robert Palmer; Mrs Jordan, Miss Duncan, Miss Pope, Mrs Sparks, and Miss Mellon. In both Tragedy and Comedy, Mr Elliston, Mr Wroughton, Mr De Camp, Mr Holland, and Mr Putnam; Mra

R

H. Siddons, and Miss Ray. In Opera, Mr Braham, Mr Kelly, Mr Gibbon, Mr Dignum, and Mr Smith; Signora Storace, Mrs Mountain, Miss Lyon, Mrs Bland, Mrs Mathews, and Mrs Daponte. In Ballets and Pantomimes, Mr D'Egville and Mr Laurent Miss Gayton, and Mrs Sharp and Mr Alexander Johnston, the Mechanist. Mr Shaw was the Leader of the Band.

Mr Henry Siddons is a tragedian of great energy, and has much of what may be called the genius of his art: that is, he has the faculty of producing an electrical sensation in the breasts of his audience. His voice is strong: his countenance is marked and dark; his person, though muscular, is thin and tall: but in the management of it, with respect both to dress and to grace, he is less skilful than might be wished. His principle of acting seems to be the production of effect and applause, if not by any means, yet by means very bold and even hazardous. This principle is not altogether safe when pushed to a great extent, in the representation of plays that are already known; because critics who have considered the characters in these plays will not willingly allow their judgment to be led away by their feelings, nor the cautious decisions of criticism to be biassed by popular acclaims and an actor, paradoxical as it may seem, diminishes his credit by his too great zeal to please. But in new plays, where the critic, having had no opportunity of reading beforehand, must find it almost impossible to judge precisely what character the author intended to draw, the system of gaining applause is sometimes the safest for the actor and for the author too. The first representative of a character gene

rally imparts its stamp: and those pieces of which the merit is not so great as to give them a probable chance of living long enough to draw down critical investigation, are certainly best promoted by him, who produces for the time the most favourable impression. In new pieces, accordingl, Mr Siddons has been most eminently successful; and there are some which owe much of their success to his ardent exertions. But whatever be the system of Mr H. Siddons, he must strike strongly upon the judicious, as well as upon the multitude, because he feels strongly, thinks justly, and expresses powerfully. His favourite parts are the heroes of tragedy.

Mr Raymond has much spirit: but he does not seem to have the mind of an actor: he wants judgment and dramatic art; and his pronunciation is defective. His person is remarkably manly and imposing; and, not pretending to a first situation, but rather confining himself to` such parts as tyrants and rebels, he is a gentleman whom the theatre could not afford to lose.

Mr Eyre and Mr Powell act grave, steady, middle-aged, characters; and both are correct, respectable performers.

Mrs Powell is the heroine of the Drury-Lane tragedies: she is no longer young; but her voice is pow erful, her figure commanding, and her countenance singularly beautiful. She abounds with feeling so strong and genuine, that we can seldom dislike her acting, even when we disapprove it. Yet her feeling certainly wants discretion and cultivation. It wastes itself upon trifles, and thus diminishes the effects that it would produce if it were reserved for greater occasions, and skilfully

modified. If Mrs Powell had had advantages of careful and early tuition, we think that she must have been not only, as at present, a favourite actress, but a very great and brilliant tragedian.

Miss Boyce evinces great merit in performing second parts in tragedy: the interesting and retiring, rather than declamatory and prominent heroines. She has softness and modesty of manner, her countenance is sweet and expressive, her figure finely formed, and her action pertinent, judicious, and graceful.

Of comic talent for the stage, the present day appears to be unusually prolific; and in the first rank of our comedians Mr Bannister undoubtedly deserves to be classed. His person is middle-sized, and rather inclining to be fat. His features are handsome, and his eye dark and expressive. The characters in which he most excells appear to be those which afford opportunities for the expression of honest roughness, ridiculous distress, good-humoured conceit, and mixed pathos. His faculties of delineating honest roughness have made him unconquerable by any rivalry in Ben, the sailor of Love for Love, and, indeed, in almost all the sea-characters upon the stage, which, for the most part, have few diagnostics but this honesty and roughness. When we speak. of his excellence in expressing ridiculous distress, we would not be understood to mean every kind of uneasiness that may be made ludicrous; for many characters are ludicrous without being absolutely ridiculous, since they preserve our respect, though they excite our laughter. Of this class are Don Felix in the Wonder, and Mr Oakley in the Jealous Wife; and a hundred other parts

which contain much ludicrous uneasi ness, but which certainly would not be well represented by Mr Bannister. The distresses of Marplot, in the Busy Body, are merely ridiculous; and here Mr Bannister is excellent, though there are some other expres sions in the character which are not to be considered as properly exhibited by him. His skill in pourtraying conceit is among the most amusing of his faculties; but it is by no means exclusively his own. However, his greatest excellence is in mixed pathos. On many of those occasions, where a smile and a tear are to be mingled in the counte nance of the performer, and, at once, or in speedy alternation, excited in the spectators too, no actor approaches Mr Bannister. His Walter, in the Children of the Wood, is a complete example of his merit in this department. He is a little apt to attempt a more elegant style of comedy than any in which we have yet considered him: For elegant comedy, he is certainly unfit, both in manner and figure; but even in these parts his natural whim surprises, and his constant good humour conciliates.-There is yet another talent of his which we had almost forgotten to mention; it is not, indeed, in itself a great comic power, but to his great comic.powers it is an useful assistant, We mean his skill in mimickry.

This faculty of mimickry, which, though possessed to a certain degree by almost all actors, is not conspicuous in more than a few, deserves to be particularly pointed out, not only in Mr Bannister, but in Mr Mathews, who, in several characters, has displayed imitative powers of unusual variety. But Mr Mathews has other talents, which entitle his acting to further praise than that of accu