and one or two from the Greek writers. Tully nodded assent, but I could easily perceive he had no acquaintance with Cicero. At one time he nettled me not a little by a stale green-room joke. "Repeat me," says Tully, Norval's account of himself." I commenced in my best style; but had scarcely proceeded to the second line when he interrupted by asking me "and pray what is your name on the plains." I contended that I had not been guilty of the erroneous reading which his question insinuated, and for which a school-boy should be whipped. He apologized, and, with some difficulty, appeased my wrath. Poor Tully spouted in turn. He was, in his own estimation, "the best actor in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical-pastoral-historical, scene undividable, or poem unlimited :-Seneca was not too heavy, nor Plautus too light for him;" but he principally affected that tragedy which dwelt in the developement of the darker passions. Ye Gods what a treat it was to see Tully, in the "furious tame” of mock inspiration, tearing to tatters the "fine frenzies" of Shakspeare!! To the lovers of grotesque caricature it would have been a most humourous exhibition, but in my eyes, viewing Shakspeare as a holy volume, it was nothing less than profanation. He was however a well disposed generous creature, and won upon me greatly.

The company arrived on the following day, and arrangements were made for opening. What was my

horror on entering the green room, to find myself cast for Francis Rochdale, in Colman's play of John Bull. Frank is a pretty sentimental part enough, but was quite out of my line. The very circumstance of wearing modern costume was sufficient to incapacitate me. I had even abstained from attempting Beverly (in the Gamester) because it wanted the decorations and drapery which I thought necessary to give grace and grandeur to the drama. I would not enact Othello in a coat and pantaloons, nor go on for Romeo in a modern ball dress. I felt like a histrionic Sampson shorn of his hair, and looked upon the manager as the most cruel of Philistines. Still I was obliged to abide the cast, or abandon the company. I chose the former; satisfied that some opportunity of exhibiting my talent would occur, and resolved to abandon Mr. C. the moment my reputation was established.

On the night of performance I was neither agitated by hope or fear. I knew I could not succeed, and went desperately on, indignant that the greatest actor on earth should be thrust into a character which may damn his reputation for ever. I folded my arms, walked through the part, repeated my sentences, and made my entrances and exits exactly to the cues.I passed unnoticed through one or two acts, until some critic in the pit greeted me with an ungentle hissing. It was the first time the accents of the "big bird" fell upon my ear, as directed against myself, and I became furious. I could without remorse or dread have torn to pieces every human

That one hiss put to

being before and around me. flight in an instant the treasured hope of years. I knew I could not play Frank in such a manner as to win much approbation; but I expected that my exquisite reading would not only save me from censure, but ensure me respect. I absolutely grinned furiously at the quarter from whence the hateful sound proceeded. This exhibition of impotent rage produced a shout of laughter from the entire audience, which was immediately succeeded by three distinct rounds of ironical applause. I understood the cutting cruelty-it went at once to my heart, and, with a pang so fierce, that I am satisfied the least insensible of the audience, if he knew what I suffered, would have pitied me. I went on doggedly through the remainder of the part, and at its conclusion retired to my lodging.

Had the mood I then indul

ged continued for a week, I should have hated my kind for ever. I was too young, and, even yet, too confident to despair. What did the ignorant boobies of a country town know of reading? My style was too chaste and delicate for their conception. If I out-heroded Herod-If I tore a passion to tatters, to very rags to split the ears of groundlings, why, I would be a star with those blockheads, who were capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise. I read Hamlet's advice to the players, and comforted myself with the reflection that a metropolitan audience would do justice to my excellencies.

Matters proceeded on thus for some time. Night after night I went on for some stupid walking gentle

man, or stick of a lover, and night after night was I greeted with the same ironical applause. But it affected me nothing; I had steeled my heart against it, and consoled myself with the sweet revenge I would have on these Goths, as I passed through their town on my way to the neighbouring city, starring it from London, a living stigma on their taste and discernment. This thought gave me great delight, and I even began to find a pleasure in their insulting applause. In some of the lovers I might have gone on respectably enough, but for the vanity of the manager's wife, who chose all the comedy heroines a fat fubsy woman, about forty; the very antipodes of sentiment, and for whom even George the fourth could entertain no predilection. Had I played to any of the younger and prettier actresses, their persons might have inspired me, but I felt that to simulate passion for her would be too ludicrous. At length my fortunate star shone out. I was cast for Saib in the Castle Spectre; but, Hassan falling sick, and having a very quick study, I undertook to get up in the part at an unusually short notice. The night of performance arrived. I came out, as usual, with my arms folded, but such an entrance was in perfect keeping with the sullen and mysterious Hassan. I had taken great trouble with my dress, and really looked the part. I was received with the accustomed applause, and bowed as to a mark of merited approbation. This produced a laugh; but, as I proceeded, I was heard with a good deal of attention, and some encouraging murmurs;

until, at length, at the conclusion of the speech in which Hassan recites and mourns over his former happiness, the whole house joined in one loud burst of genuine applause.

Not Franklin when he succeeded in bringing down the lightning from the electric cloud felt half such rapture as I, when I brought down that thunder.The fountains of love and humanity, which contempt and derision had frozen up, -opened in my heart, and I could have kissed the whole audience, man, woman, and child; nay even the greasy lamplighter might have shared my embraces. It was with difficulty I restrained the tears of delight that rushed to my eyes whilst I got through the remainder of the scene. The manager, when I came off, shook hands with, and congratulated me; asking why I did not playalways thus. I replied rather bitterly-for it struck me that he envied the applause which I more than shared with his principal character Osmond—“that he never before afforded me the opportunity." The remainder of the night confirmed my triumph. I threw some touches of spirit and animation even into the walking gentleman for which I was cast in the farce, and contrived to make love to the manager's fat wife with some appearance of ardour. As I passed through the town next day, I had the gratification to enjoy the digito monstrari feeling, and the dicier hic est. My opinions in the green-room were more attended to, my cast of parts, though not equalling my expectations, was improved, and the actresses were more anxious to have my arm in a