cast of several plays in print, fully prove his abilities were then thought very insignificant; however, on a new company setting up at Licoln's Inn Fields, he was engaged in it, and has ever since, but more especially on the death of Boheme, gradually rose to a great degree of favour with the public. Mr. Booth's quitting the Stage still set him in a fairer light, and indeed left him without a rival. He had for some time appeared without any competitor, when all on a sudden there appeared at Goodman's Fields, a young tragedian from Dublin. This was Delane.

Novelty, youth, a handsome figure, took off from any severe criticism on his elocution and action. In short, though so far from the polite end of the town, he drew to him several polite audiences, and became in such a degree of repute, that comparisons were made between him and Quin; nor was he without admirers of both sexes who gave him the preference. He was not insensible of this, and determined to leave Goodman's Fields, and indulge his ambition at one of the Theatres Royal. Quin just at that time left Covent Garden for Drury Lane, and he engaged with Mr. Rich, at Covent Garden, and in two or three years on the stage, gained that station on it, which most of the other actors could not in many years attain to. Quin has the character of a just speaker, but then it is confined to the solemn declamatory way: he either cannot work himself into the emotions of a violent passion, or he will not take the fatigue of doing it. The partiality of his friends says, he can touch the passions with great delicacy if he will; but general opinion affirms, that he has neither power of voice or sensation to give love or pity, grief or remorse, their proper tone and variation of features. Delane is also esteemed a just player; and though he has often a more loud violence of voice, yet either from an imitation of Quin, or his own natural manner, he has a sameness of tone and expression, and drawls out his lines to a displeasing length; but that loud violence of voice is useful to him when anger, indignation, or such enraged passions are to be expressed, for the shrill loudness marks the passion, which the sweet cadence of Quin's natural voice is unequal to. In such parts, especially Alexander, Delane pleases many; for the million, as Colley Cibber says, are apt to be transported when the drum of the ear is soundly rattled. But, on the contrary, Quin's solemn sameness of pronunciation, which conveys an awful dignity, is charmingly affecting in Cato. Delane is young enough to rise to greater perfection; Quin may be said now to be at the height of his: if Delane has the more pleasing person, Quin has the more affecting action; both might soon appear with more advantage,

if they were on the same stage. The rivalship of Delane would give a spirited jealousy to Quin, and force him to exert himself; and Quin's judgment would improve the unfinished action of Delane; but they are the Cæsar and Pompey of the Theatres, and one stage would be imcompatible with their ambition; Quin could bear no one on the footing of an equal, Delane no one as a superior.

In the year 1735, Aaron Hill, in a periodical paper, called The Prompter, attacked some of the principal actors of the stage, and particularly Colley Cibber, and Mr. Quin. Cibber, says Mr. Davies, laughed, but Quin was angry; and meeting Mr. Hill in the Court of Requests, a scuffle ensued between them, which ended in the exchange of a few blows.

The following seems to be the paragraph which gave offence to the Actor: "And as to you Mr. All-weight, you lose the advantages of your deliberate articulation, distinct use of pausing, solemn significance, and that composed air and gravity of your motion; for though there arises from all these good qualities an esteem that will continue and increase the number of your friends, yet those among them who wish best to your interest, will be always uneasy at observing perfection so nearly within your reach, and your spirits not disposed to stretch out and take possession. To be always deliberate and solemn is an error, as certainly, though not as unpardonably, as never to be so. To pause where no pauses are necessary, is the way to destroy their effect when the sense stands in need of their assistance. And, though dignity is finely maintained by the weight of majestic composure, yet are there scenes in your parts where the voice should be sharp and impatient, the look disordered and agonized, the action precipitate and turbulent; for the sake of such difference as we see in some smooth canal, where the stream is scarce visible compared with the other end of the same canal, rushing rapidly down a cascade, and breaking beauties which owe their attraction to violence."

Mr. Quin was hardly settled at Drury Lane before he became embroiled in a dispute relative to Mons. Poitier and Madame Roland, then two celebrated dancers, whose neglect of duty it had fallen to his lot to apologise for. On the 12th December, the following advertisement appeared in the newspapers :

"Whereas on Saturday last, the audience of the Theatre Royal, in Drury Lane, was greatly incensed at their disappointment in M. Poitier and Madame Roland's not dancing, as their names were in the bills for the day, and Mr. Quin, seeing no way to appease the resentment then shown, but by relating the real

F

messages sent from the Theatre to know the reasons why they did not come to perform, and the answers returned. And whereas there were two advertisements in the Daily Post of Tuesday last, insinuating that Mr. Quin, had with malice accused the said Poitier and Madame Roland: I therefore think it (in justice to Mr. Quin) incumbent on me to assure the public, that Mr. Quin has conducted himself in this point towards the above mentioned, with the strictest regard to truth and justice, and as Mr. Quin has acted in this affair in my behalf, I think myself obliged to return him thanks for so doing."-CHARLES FLEETWOOD.

After this declaration, no further notice seems to have been taken of the fracas. A short time afterwards the delinquent dancers made their apology to the public, and were received into favour.

In the season of 1734-35, Mr. Quin performed in Lillo's Christian Hero, and Fielding's Universal Gallant; and in the succeeding one, he first performed Falstaff in the second part of Henry IV., for his own benefit. In 1736-37, he performed in Miller's Universal Passion, and in 1737-38, in the same author's Art and Nature. It was in this season also, that he performed Comus and had the first opportunity of promoting the interest of his friend Thomson, in the tragedy of Agamemnon.

The author of The Actor, (Dr. Hill) 1755, p. 235, says: "In this Mr. Quin by the force of dignity alone, hid all his natural defects, and supported the part at such a height, that none have been received in it since.

'The star that bids the shepherd fold,
Now the top of heaven doth hold.'

are lines which, though beautiful, have nothing of natural greatness, but Mr. Quin made darkness as he spoke them. The solemnity and enthusiasm with which he pronounced them, called up the idea of a still and dead midnight, more than all the descriptions even of Milton. When he afterwards delivered,

'The sounds, the seas, and all their finny drove,
Now to the moon in wav'ring morrice move;'

so strong was the imagery he added to the strength already given by the poet, that we saw the curled waves break in upon the calm repose of the night, and the peaceful fishes rising and falling under their indented motion. When he afterwards, with that change of tone and cadence which he possessed beyond all mortal men (spite of the charge of his monotony) added,

'While on the tawney sands and shelves,

Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves,'

we smiled and shook, and saw the little beings

'Whose midnight revels, by a forest side,
Or fountain, some belated peasant sees,

Or dreams he sees; while overhead the moon
Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth

Wheels her pale course.'

His invocation of Cotytto was masterly beyond all these. It was not delivered with awe and humility, as men address their prayers; for it was not of a mortal to a Deity, but a superior nature addressing another, nothing more than equal:

'Hail, Goddess of nocturnal sport,

Dark veil'd Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame
Of midnight torches burn.

-Stay thy cloudy ebon chair.'

There was in this all the solemnity and serious attention of a prayer, though nothing of the confessed inferiority; we glowed, we trembled with delight and terror as his deep voice pronounced it. He rose upon his audience through the whole course of this great character, and at the last, when to the lady who would rise and leave him, he said,

'Nay, lady sit! If I but wave this wand,
Your nerves are all bound up in alabaster,
And you a statue; or, as Daphne was,
Root-bound, that fled Apollo.'

we heard the greatest sentence ever pronounced upon the British theatre. Throughout the part he courts not as a mortal, but as superior power, by promises, not entreaties, and when at the last he proceeds to threats, the poet has not more happily chosen his words than this player pronounced them.

There was in all this very little of gesture: the look, the elevated posture, and the brow of majesty, did all. This was most just; for as the hero of tragedy exceeds the gentleman of comedy, and therefore in his general deportment is to use fewer gestures; the deity of the Masque exceeds the hero in dignity, and therefore is to be yet more sparing.

Again, the language of Milton, the most sublime of any in our tongue, seemed formed for the mouth of this player, and he did justice to the sentiments, which in that author are always equal to the language. If he was a hero in Pyrrhus, he was as it became him, in Comus a demi-god. Mr. Quin was old

when he performed this part, and his natural manner grave; he was therefore unfit in common things for a youthful God of Revels, yet did he command our attention and applause in the part in spite of these and all his other disadvantages. In the place of youth he had dignity, and for vivacity he gave us grandeur. The author has connected them in the character, and whatever young and spirited player shall attempt it after him, we shall remember his manner, faulty as it was, in what he could not help; in what nature, not want of judgment, misrepresented it, so as to set the other in contempt.

The season of 1738-39, produced only one new play in which Mr. Quin performed, and that was Mustapha, by Dr. Mallet, which, according to Mr. Davies, was said to glance both at the King and Sir Robert Walpole, in the characters of Solyman the Magnificent, and Rustan, his Vizier.

On the first night of its exhibition were assembled all the chiefs in opposition to the Court; and many speeches were applied by the audience to the supposed grievances of the times, and to persons and characters. The play was in general well acted, more particularly the parts of Solyman and Mustapha by Quin and Milward. Mr. Pope was present in the boxes, and at the end of the play went behind the scenes, a place which he had not visited for some years. He expressed himself to be well pleased with his entertainment; and particularly addressed himself to Quin, who was greatly flattered with the distinction paid him by so great a man; and when Pope's servant brought his master's scarlet cloak, Quin insisted upon the honour of putting it on.

In the season of 1739-40, there was acted at Drury Lane theatre, on the 12th of November, a tragedy entitled, The Fatal Retirement, by a Mr. Anthony Brown, which received its sentence of condemnation on the first night. In this play Mr. Quin had been solicited to perform which he refused, and the ill success which attended the piece irritated the author and his friends so much, that they ascribed its failure to the absence of Mr. Quin, and in consequence of it, repeatedly insulted him for several nights afterwards when he appeared on the stage. This treatment at length Mr. Quin resented and determined to repel. Coming forward therefore, he addressed the audience, and informed them, that at the request of the author he had read his piece before it was acted, and given him his very sincere opinion of it; that it was the very worst play he had ever read in his life, and for that reason had refused to act in it. This spirited explanation was received with great applause, and for the future entirely silenced the opposition to him. In this season he per

formed in Lillo's Elmerick.