number he could not wish to take leave of. He added that he also wanted sadly to make love to her meaning, on the stage. To which she replied pleasantly, that she could assure him very seriously, that unless he made more love than he did the past year, she would never act with him. All the last winter she had had "wretched lovers. I desire you always to be my lover upon the stage, and my friend off it"-an intimation that could not be more playfully or delicately conveyed. Garrick then promised to write to her from Ireland, and set off.

Sheridan was now in London, getting together a band of recruits of less reputation, and presently started for Chester, with a curious party. Miss Bellamy, the well-known "GeorgeAnne," an ambitious young girl, who had just started as an actress, her mother, Mr. Lacy, an Irish adventurer; Mrs. Eimy, an actress, and Mr. Morgan, an admirer of the latter, but in the last stage of consumption. Mrs. Eimy, who was a humorist, enlivened the journey by constant disputes with Mrs. Bellamy; and young Miss Bellamy by giving her a burlesque title of Countess, with which she persisted in addressing her at all inns, and thus causing her to be received with genuine respect at such places, inflamed the angry feeling. At Parkgate they found the wind contrary, and the manager, impatient to get to his theatre, left them there, and posted on to Holyhead.

At Smock alley Theatre "the celebrated German, Dutch, Italian, and French rope-dancers and tumblers," with the famous Mons, Guitar, who tumbled over a man and horse," were filling in a languid interval; this was in October, but on November 24, on a Sunday morning, Mr. Garrick arrived in Dublin. The next day the news was in the papers. The season did not open for a fortnight, meantime the capital had plenty of attractions to fill in the popular actor's time. It was during this season that he formed a cloud of acquaintances among the highest in the land, whose friendship he retained during all his life after. Lord Forbes was living in Stephen's green, Lady D-nerate in Dawsonstreet, Bishan 1. Mrs. De lany's fries.! Green,"

besides Lords Bellamont, Milltown, and many more. But one of the leading persons of fashion was Colonel Butler, and his wife, the "Honorable Mrs. Butler," whose home was "frequented by most of the nobility." They had a handsome seat on the sea-coast at Clontarf, and with this family the English actor became very intimate.

At last the theatre was ready to open. It was a surprisingly brilliant company. One of its elements of strength was to be a new actor, a young silversmith; who, like Powell later, had stepped from the warehouse to the stage, and who, the year before "had made some figure in Othello." Mr. Garrick coming over as a "star" no doubt made small account of this local luminary, who was now modestly studying Casta io to play to Miss Bellamy in the "Orphan." He did not dream of what perilous rivalry he was to find in the noble figure, handsome face, and tender voice- a dangerous combination of advantages--in the eidevant Dublin silversmith. He had made "some figure on the stage" the preceding winter, said one who acted with him this year; but great as had been his success on Irish boards, that splendid presence, and silvery voice, full of a deep pathos, were soon to fascinate all London.

The

As Garrick had taken his farewell in "Hamlet," so he was now about to make his reappearance in the same play. With Sheridan he was on cordial terms, and they had agreed to play Shakespeare alternately. popular actor had made the same proposal a year or two before, which Sheridan had declined. Now, when he was so famous, it was a more important concession. Indeed at every period, whether we look back to the beginning or to the end of his career, to his apprenticeship, or to his full maturity, we find the same calm, temperate, and modest state of mind, and the same generous self-abnegation. In the midst of all the complaints and jealousies of the players, their absurd sensitiveness and false grievances, which were ridiculously mean and troublesome, we see him all through the same calm, good-tempered, full of a manly dignity, kind, forbearing, making a gracious allowance, and almost humoring the pet

tish comedians, who were worrying him with their broils and fancied outrages. No wonder that with such a nature he won respect and fast friendship and admiration, besides fame.

By the night of the 9th the theatre opened "with eclat." The manager had determined to carry out all his reforms strictly, and by the advertisement the public were warned that no one would be admitted behind the scenes excepting those who had the "58. 5d." tickets. The quarrelsome "footmen," who waited for their families in the galleries were not to be admitted there without a ticket from the boxkeeper; further, that gentry had a habit of waiting in the "box-room," with flaring torches to light their masters' chairs" home, a custom that was found inconvenient for the ladies, and was required to be given up. The chief places were 58. 5d., the "lattises," 4s. 4d.; the "pit,' 3s. 3d.; "gallery," 28. 2d.; and the upper gallery," 18. ld. Tickets were to be had at Mr. Neil's, in Abbey-street, and at the bar of the Merchants' Coffee-house. The performances were to commence at halfpast six, a later hour than in London, for even at this time they had the habit of dining so late as five o'clock.

Mrs. Storer played Ophelia, and after the tragedy sang, while a Madame Moreau danced. Thus the entertainment comprised music, dancing, and singing. On the Thursday was played "Richard," by command of Lord Chesterfield. On the following Thursday Garrick was to have had his first benefit, but the "Messiah being fixed for that night at the "Music Hall," for the benefit of the "poor prisoners," he good-naturedly deferred his night to Friday, when he appeared in Bayes. Again was the Viceroy present, and also "one of the most polite and crowded audiences that hath ever been seen at any play"—a pardonable exaggeration. Vast numbers had to be turned away for want of room, and the block on the little Blind-quay was tremendous. For it was after this occasion that the play-goers were entreated by public advertisement to keep distinct route in coming and in going with their chairs and coaches, which got sadly confused "in so nar

row a place," and that "these rules may be punctually obeyed," oddly added the notice, guards were placed to insure the regulations being carried out.

The polished Viceroy affected to disparage Garrick's view of the part of Bayes. He held that it was intended for a serious and solemn character, and that it was quite misconceived. Generally, too, he objected to the actor's comedy parts; but went so far as to say publicly that he was not only the best tragedian of the day, but the best that had ever been in the world. This was high praise and genuine praise; certainly during the engagement the Viceregal box was rarely empty.

This was announced as his last appearance before the holidays. He must have spent them pleasantly. He knew Lord Mountjoy, and Dr. Barry, and Mr. Tighe, of the Castle. He talked "fine things" to them of Mrs. Cibber, who was affectionately thought of. He was really anxious that she should come over and join their company, but she was afraid of the sea.

On the first day of the year they began with the "Fair Penitent "by command," when Sheridan took Horatio, Garrick Lothario, and the handsome Barry Altamont—a small part, which he made so graceful that it became as important as the other two. No wonder that the Dean of Down's wife should have thought him in this very character "the handsomest man and finest figure altogether that ever paced upon the stage."

This fascinating actor was making fresh progress every day. Play-goers and writers seem at a loss for words to describe the charm; but setting all the portraits side by sideChurchill's, Davies', and many more

the features resolve themselves in a noble and graceful figure, a face of calm, manly beauty, an expression of soft interest and tenderness, and a touching and musical voice. These are gifts that would carry any actor through, and most likely they carried him over the mannerisms hinted at by the bitter Churchill, and the affectation with which the same satirist says "he conned his passions as he conned his part."

The ladies were his warm patrons, whom "he charmed by the soft me

lody of his love complaints and the noble ardour of his courtship." Lord Chesterfield admired his figure also, but wisely forecasted his sudden withdrawal from the stage, carried off by some smitten rich widow. Such conquests by handsome Irishmen were then common incidents of town life; and the runaway marriage of Lady Susan Strangways with Mr. O'Brien, another handsome actor, was presently to carry dismay into the noble House of Ilchester.

Then followed "Macbeth" (by command), "The Orphan," "King Lear and his THREE DAUGHTERS," "The Recruiting Officer;" and then, for Garrick's second benefit, "The Provoked Wife" and "The farce of the Schoolboy;" then Archer, in "The Beaux' Stratagem."

The footmen had again grown disorderly, and the manager had to address the public on the abuse; threatening to shut up the gallery altogether. He offered them one last chance of trial on Garrick's benefit night, when if the noise was repeated the gallery was to be closed, and servants were "never to be admitted to the theatre again." It was odd that this very class were later to break out at Edinburgh in a riot of very much the same kind.

The English actor could read in his newspaper testimonials as complimentary, though less substantial, from his Dublin admirers. One took the shape of an epigram—

"Hearing that aged crows are learned and

How did my swelling bosom glow, To see thy Lear's majestic woe; And yet, O, strange! on the same night, How did thy Lying Sharp delight." Then in reference to his playing Richard III.

"I scarce can think thou play'st a part, And I could stab thee to the heart. 'Tis here thy genius is admired, "Tis here thou scem'st almost inspired; Else how could thy sweet nature bear T'assume the murdering villain's air?" There is almost something like affection in these last two lines.

So, too, in "The Stage," which seems to anticipate the thought in Goldsmith's verses-"off the stage he was acting:"

"Tell me, thou informing Power,

Tell me where the difference lies,
Twixt the actor of an hour.

And of life-the dame replies:
In the force, the fire, the feature,

Usher'd from a feeling heart;
GARRICK is the child of Nature,

Mankind only acts a part."

All this time young Miss Bellamy was making progress, and combining the pleasures of Dublin society with her profession. The sprightly and ambitious girl had boldly made terms in London with the manager that she was to be allowed to commence as Constance in "King John," a part in which she had a girlish ambition to take the audience by storm. She was naturally encouraged to it by the great applause she received, for she was appearing nearly every night, in all sorts of characters-was going to parties at the Butlers' and for sleep. She was very pretty; other houses, and hardly found time and it gives us a curious hint of the tone of the Dublin drawing-rooms and the taste for the drama of a young actress, when Lord Tyrawley's natural daughter was chaperoned by Mrs. O Hara, Lord Tyrawley's sister, as her niece, and Mr. Garrick, the young "player," was welcomed everywhere.

"King John" was now talked of, and was said by the papers to be in rehearsal. There was curiosity to see it, as it had not been played in this kingdom" for many years, but there was a commotion going on in the green-room. Garrick and the manager were to play the King and the

Bastard alternately. They were to be the pillars of the play; and Mr. Garrick had privately pitched on Miss Bellamy for a good "hose and trunks" part, Prince Arthur, for which his good sense had told him a pretty and untrained young actress would be better adapted than for Constance. The more experienced Mrs. Furnival he had intended for this part. There was, besides, another objection: the part of Prince Arthur would have to be done by a lady, whose misfortune it was to be "hard-featured" and a little too mature for a boycharacter. These objections, like all objections made by Garrick in his life, were utterly unselfish, and marked by reason and good sense. Sheridan stood by his promise, and supported the young actress's claim; but Garrick was firm.

The retaliation she took was characteristic, almost amusing. With true green-room spite and girlish fury she flew to her friend, the "Hon. Mrs. Butler," in Stephen's-green, told her the story of her wrongs and persecution, and actually engaged her in a very vindictive scheme of revenge. Ladies of fashion in Dublin had a great deal of power in reference to the theatre. From the Viceroy down all depended on patronage. The leading actors attached themselves to some lady of quality, who took on herself the management of his "night," canvassed her acquaintances, disposed of tickets, and received all the fashionable part of the audience in the boxroom, as though she were the actress. The night was called, not the actor's, but "Lady's night," and there was a sort of emulation among them to have the particular "night" successful. The silver-tongued Barry had many such nights, and was at no loss for patronesses.

Mrs. Butler who led "the genteel world" in Dublin, took up the cause of her protégé, and when the play was announced for the 5th of February, went round diligently to all her friends, and made it a point that they should stay away. One of the fashionable levers she wielded was a series of very select balls, which insured the homage and services of a clientèle of young ladies, who were eager for invitations, and then she insisted they should exert themselves to prevent all their friends attending the first

representation of "King John." The wicked little scheme succeeded perfectly. On that night, with Sheridan as the Bastard, and Roscius as the King, the house was miserably thin, and the receipts did not reach £40.

The malicious young actress had triumphed with immense satisfaction. She often told how she had given "the immortal Roscius his first humiliation." She had made him "severely repent" of preferring the regular tragedy queen, Mrs. Furnival, "to her little self." Those who have studied Roscius' life and character will know that no such feelings were in his heart. He was more amused than angry, and at once yielded. He bore not the least malice for so unworthy a trick, and treated the wilful actress with a charming good-humour and forgiveness, that shows us his true character admirably. He was magnanimous enough to have the play put up again, with Miss Bellamy in her coveted part of Constance.

The town meanwhile had got hold of the story, and were vastly amused. This time Garrick was to play the Bastard. Mrs. Butler, no doubt, set her influence at work in that genteel world over which she presided, and the result was an, overflowing audience, with a crowd to be turned from the doors. The actress affected to recognise in the boisterous applause of the audience, a recognition of the victory she had gained. But the wilful girl was not yet satisfied. She took this good-humored forbearance for indifference or, perhaps, contempt.

"Tancred" then followed, and "Othello"-with Garrick and Sheridan taking Iago and Othello alternately, within a couple of nights. This variety and trial of skill would have delighted the Dublin galleries; but it is plain that by this time, the superior ability and popularity of his rival had excited some jealousy in the manager, who, it is plain, was hostile both to Garrick and to Barry. The feeling between the two latter was most cordial and honorable. Yet, often the rôle of a waning favourite, hourly eclipsed by the superior attraction of a younger rival, is the hardest of known parts to play. Then came Barry's benefit, "The Distressed Mother," with Garrick's first attempt at Orestes. Then followed

"Lear," "being the last time of Mr. Garrick's playing under his present agreement," which might mean the termination of his engagement at a salary, and the beginning of a share in the profits.

On the 19th of March, he attempted Sir Harry Wildair, in which it was confessed that he did not approach the saucy Woffington; and on the 3rd of April played for the benefit of a dramatic author, who, the notices were careful to inform the public, was not Mr. Brooke, the author of the "Fool of Quality." "A gentleman" was to undertake the part of the Ghost. Then was announced the "Rehearsal "—which seems to have always drawn-for his benefit, being desired by several persons of distinction" It was also given out that "Mr. Garrick would play two or three times more before leaving the kingdom."

April the 15th was a high festival, being the birthday of His Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland, which, like all loyal occasions, was kept with the extravagant and almost theatrical exuberance which was de rigueur in Dublin-" with great demonstrations of joy," was the usual expression. "Orestes" was the play on this night. Lord Chesterfield and his court, and "a numerous and polite audience" were present. Sheridan spoke a prologue, but the event of the night was the epilogue, written by "The Farmer"--a sobriquet for "the ingenious Mr. Brooke"-and spoken by Mr. Garrick. The enthusiasm of the occasion and the correct elocution of the speaker, may have diverted attention from the bathos and graver burlesque of this production.

Some of the verses ran :"Tis not a birth to titles, pomp, and

state

That forms the brave or constitutes the

great;

To be the son of GEORGE's just renown, And brother to the heir of Britain's

crown."

The last line is admirable. The Viceroy was presently to leave for England, and Roscius had to deliver some passages of complimentary regret:

Then seize, Hibernia, seize the present

is sacred to the martial boy;

The morrow shall a different strain require,

When with thy STANHOPE all delights

retire;

And (a long Polar night of grief begun), Thy soul shall sigh for its returning SUN."

The counter attractions of the ridottos and concerts were still working not to mention "The Flea and Miniature Curiosities," which were to be seen in Crane lane, and who went out to the nobility's parties. Mons. Guitar was still here, and on one night added to the amusement at Smock alley by "leaping through a hogshead, ten feet from the ground, with a flambeau in each hand!” An ordinary play had been chosen for Garrick's last benefit and last appearance, but as there was a desire to see him in one more new character “Jane Shore" was underlined, and Miss Bellamy found in this an opportunity for either her malice or her petulance. She was really gaining favour with the audience by a mixture of impudence and spirit, which is always popular with a mixed audience, and the manner in which she had resented a freedom a Mr. St. Leger had attempted-giving him a sound slap on the face in full view of the audience, and causing Lord Chesterfield to clap his hands publicly, and send his aide, Major Macartney, to require a public apology, showed what her character was.

she

Garrick now wished that should play Jane Shore for him, but she refused positively-giving him his own excuse in the case of Constance her excessive youth. He persisted, and got her friend, Mrs. Butler, to use her influence. He even which he said that if she would oblige wrote her a sort of playful note, in him in this matter, he would write her "a goody, goody epilogue, which, with the help of her eyes, should do more mischief than ever the flesh or the devil had done since the world began." And this effusion he directed burlesquely, "To my soul's idol," the

beautiful Ophelia !" This was given to his servant to deliver, who handed it over to a newspaper boy, who was utterly mystified by the address, and took it to his master. This master turned out to be a newspaper owner, and he promptly, says Miss