a matter of much astonishment, that no one has been found to take upon himself that character) would have matter for the most entertaining book that could be written. Mr. Hook is the writer who should do it-he knew him intimately, and one who can extract humour even out of dull matériel, would convulse his readers with the memoirs of such a life as this actor's. His biographer could not fail to allot him most of the qualifications necessary for the management of one of our large theatres, and would be unable to trace many errors in his administration that were not capable of being retrieved.

His habits to be sure had latterly become degenerate; but we are told by the almost divine prophet of our profession, that "misery makes us acquainted "with strange bed-fellows;" and it certainly was the case with him—the life of a manager, however, which in its palmiest hours has misery enough to contend with, is in its days of adversity almost insupportable. Elliston left Drury Lane theatre the beautiful structure it now is, and bequeathed to the recollections of his surving admirers the fame of having been one of

Mr.

The old tabbies thanked him for his attention to the state of their nerves, while the younger branches of their families were disposed to believe and acquiesce in the propriety of every word he had uttered. The ignorant applauded him for the specious manner in which he had accounted for the omission of the particular amusement they had come to see, and the knowing ones roared outright at his ineffable impudence. The result was not merely exculpation, but enthusiastic approbation. There has been nothing like this since the days of Orpheus.

the most eminent performers that ever adorned it; of himself and those admirers, of the actor and the auditor, it may be justly said,

"Celui qui rit et celui qui fait rire sont deux
"hommes fort différens."

But what is the value, where is the cui bono of that brittle bauble, FAME? The sceptre he swayed so long has subsequently been wielded by far less worthy hands; the mansion he built, is tenanted by the stranger; some of his children are in a foreign land; many of the associates of his greatness and his giddiness have passed away before him; and he himself, not old enough to die," has long since set out on our last pilgrimage, to join, it is hoped, the amiable partner whose death had some time preceded his

own.

Mr. Price succeeded Mr. Elliston, and in addition to the advantage of a long experience in stage matters, received as a bonus the sum of £.2000, deposited in the hands of the committee by my friend Mr. Bish, who, on relinquishing his intention of becoming their lessee, generously gave up this sum to his successor.*

* The committee at first seemed bent upon compelling Mr. Bish to fulfil his agreement; which circumstance, coupled with the fact of his having a little before lost his seat in Parliament, on the ground of his being a contractor, gave rise to the following clever jeu d'esprit, told me at the time, without the name of the author:

VOL. I.

Mr. Price may be considered by his detractors as not having had a general knowledge of the London Stage, or a sufficient intimacy with the peculiarities of a London audience; yet it must be admitted that his management was characterised by spirit, by the selection of an excellent company, and by the appointment of able officers. If in a too sanguine moment he was tempted to do what turned out an error, he was ever ready with corresponding decision to redeem it-an observation exemplified by the fact of his having (at a period when a great dearth of talent prevailed and the revolution of the performers had begun) engaged Mr. Macready at a salary of 201. per night. Finding however, that he did not individually attract as many shillings, that the plays in which he was compelled to introduce him possessed no magnetic qualities, except in the hands of such a genius as Mr. Kean, and that putting him into new plays only brought upon the treasury the additional burthen of authorship and outlay, without any corresponding return, he cancelled his engagement sixteen nights before its expiration, by paying him twenty times as many pounds-3201.! a tolerable sacrifice to get rid of a bad bargain.

Throughout his arduous career, Mr. Price made every possible effort to uphold the drama, as the

With his "Houses" Tom Bish has had luck, there 's no doubt of,

A luck which will soon make his cramm'd pockets thin; When he's in-for the House that he wants to be out of, And out of the House that he wants to be in!

MR. PRICE.

uniting Messrs. Kean and Young in tragedy, and
Messrs. Liston and Mathews in comedy (not to
name other enterprises), amply testify but he
subsequently counterbalanced all such praiseworthy
performance, by becoming, since his secession from
Drury Lane theatre, one of the most formidable enemies
that the due cultivation of the drama in England has
had to contend with. In his capacity of proprietor of
the Park Theatre, New York, he has lured away to the
shores of America every performer of any
distinction,
(and what is of equal importance-utility,) whom gold
could tempt, or speculation seduce. He is perfectly
right in so doing, and any man far less gifted with
You than he is, would have done the same; but
that does not alter the fact.

None but those who have experienced it can tell the inconvenience theatres of this magnitude suffer by the abduction of performers apparently of an inferior grade, who have enacted a given line of business for a series of years, and have thereby become the very movers of the machine. Accustomed to play nightly in every piece, and playing many parts in most of them, they are the chief reliance of a theatre in any of the numerous dilemmas in which circumstances involve it. In the same ratio they must be of the utmost importance to the transatlantic stage, and are worth any reasonable sum that can be given for them. It may appear ridiculous, on the first mention of it, but the secession of such utilitarians as

John Cooper,* or the late octogenarian Powell, caused incalculable trouble for the time to the theatre in which they were engaged. From being habituated all their lives to the performance of the entire range of the drama, and being equally good, or bad as it may be, in one part as in another, they might be applied to in all times of difficulty; and from having a quick study in learning, and laying claim to the almost greater advantage of not forgetting, they might at all times be depended upon. Powell's faculty of retention in particular characters was so great, that all the blunders of those with whom he happened to perform, could never cause him to make a blunder himself. Whether he received a right cue from the speaker to whom he had to reply, or not, was to him a matter of perfect indifference-he would give the answer set down in the text, without deviating to the right, or to the left. This is carrying utility to a great extreme, no doubt; but it exemplifies how far

He belonged to a class of actors to whom all passion or feeling comes alike, and who are admirably hit off in the "Familiar Epistles:" "Would he display the greatest woe,

"He slaps his breast, and points his toe;
"Is merriment to be express'd,

"He points his toe, and slaps his breast!"

A curious instance of this occurred some years ago, at the termination of the tragedy of Richard the Third. Mr. Elliston was enacting the part of Richmond; and, having during the evening disobeyed the injunction which the King of Denmark lays down to his Queen, "Gertrude, do not drink," he accosted Mr. Powell, who was personating