I do not find it any way so recorded, but I affirm that Jonathan Stubbs came into the world with his silver spoon. Everything prospered with him. His business went on well. That, it may be said, was owing to his own prudent management. But he was burnt out three times in seven years, and each time he gained by the calamity, thanks to the fair-dealing and solvency of the office in which he was insured. The last time this misfortune happened to him, there appeared some injurious comments in the newspapers. He brought actions for a libel against four of the principal ones; recovered £500 damages from two; compromised with the other two for the same sum, by which they saved the expenses of going to trial; and accepted a hundred pounds each from three others, which had incautiously copied the comments. He was overturned in a Clapham stage, and broke his arm; but received £200 at the hands of an intelligent jury, as a compensation for the injury he had sustained. Three years after his marriage, his father-inlaw died, and the bulk of the Grogram property, amounting to nearly four thousand pounds, became his by virtue of his wife. Even when his wife's virtue was out of the question, he still continued to feather his nest; for Mrs. Angelina Stubbs soon after committed a faux pas with an eminent carcass butcher in Leadenhallmarket, and Mr. Jonathan Stubbs, instead of throwing him into the Surrey canal, or demanding permission to make a target of Mr. Joseph Cleaver's carcass, (which might have been refused,) instituted criminal proceedings against the wholesale dealer in horned cattle. He wept his last tear over the wreck of his conjugal happiness, as he invested the fifteen hundred pounds which the Lothario of Leadenhallmarket had to pay, (for it was really an aggravated case,) in the three per cents, at the very lowest price they had touched during the preceding twelve months. Now, take these occurrences as fair average samples of

Mr. Stubbs's way of doing business, and I maintain, that if he had been born like other children, with nothing but his tongue in his mouth, they never could have happened.

Be that as it may, however, it is certain he retired from business long before he reached his grand climacteric, to his country house at Newington Butts, with the solid dignity of at least half a plum. What length of years might have been in store for him, if he had regularly taken Dr. James's analeptic pills, it is impossible to say; but not doing so, he had occasion to send the coachman one night for an ounce of Epsom salts. They proved to be oxalic acid; and stomach-pumps not being then in existence, there was an inevitable termination to the existence of Mr. Stubbs. An "extraordinary sensation," as the newspapers have it, was produced in Newington Butts by this dreadful catastrophe; and everybody wondered whether young Mr. Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs would continue to live at Cinnamon House.

Mr. Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs (or, as he now distinguished himself on his new visiting cards, H. A. C. Stubbs) soon put an end to these very natural conjectures; for, before three months had elapsed, Cinnamon House was sold, and he had taken up his abode in one of the demi-fashionable squares, among judges, physicians, barristers, and merchants, at the north side of the metropolis. He succeeded, by will, to three-fourths of the late Mr. Jonathan Stubbs's property, and, by oxalic acid, to the remaining fourth; the affair being too sudden to permit of any further testamentary dispositions, or of any of those benevolent codicils, which sometimes have the effect of tapering down primary bequests, like Prior's Emma, "fine by degrees and beautifully less." Upon a fair computation, after a few trifling legacies were paid, and all debts satisfied, young Mr. Stubbs might calculate his inheritance, in India Stock, Bank stock, houses, canal shares, and ex

chequer bills, at nearly eighty thousand pounds.

His education had not been neglected; that is to say, his father sent him, at nine years old, to one of those suburban seminaries for " young gentlemen," usually kept by elderly gentlemen, who know what it is to have been deprived of similar advantages in their own youth. They feel, therefore, a laudable gratification in enabling the rising generation to pluck some of that fruit from the tree of knowledge which they themselves never tasted at all. Here he remained till he was nearly seventeen; and here he acquired a little French, a little Greek, a little Latin, a little mathematics, a little logic, and a little geography, "with the use of the globes." In short, he brought away with him a little learning, for the obtaining of which his father had not paid a little money. He subsequently enlarged his Lilliputian stock of ideas, by assiduously prosecuting his studies at home, three days a-week, and three hours a-day, when he was attended by masters in elocution, Italian, boxing, fencing, and the other sciences. This eager cultivation of his mind he pursued till he was two and twenty, and then took his station in about the third degree of fashionable society, as a scholar and a man of taste. His father had determined he should be a gentleman, and therefore very properly guarded against the “anachronism," as he used to call it, of giving him a profession.

It is believed, (at least it has been inculcated,) that there exists, in every human mind, a master, or ruling passion-a predominating inclination towards some particular object or pursuit. Find out what that ruling passion or principle is, says our great ethic bard, and

"Comets are regular, and Wharton plain." In other words, get hold of it, and it is like the key to a cipher, or the secret of a modern Katterfelto,-all mystery is at an end, all difficulties vanish, and all wonders cease. Mr.

Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs was, in this respect, as well as in many others, like the rest of his species. He had his ruling passion, and, but that his father had made him a GENTLEMAN, he was sure nature had intended him for the Roscius of his age. From his earliest childhood, when he used to recite, during the Christmas holidays," Pity the sorrows of a poor old man," and astonish his father's porter (who had a turn that way himself) with his knowing, all by heart, "My name is Norval, on the Grampian hills,"-to his more matured efforts of, "Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors," or, liege, I did deny no prisoners,❞—the idea of being an actor had constantly fascinated his imagination.

My

Often, when he was at home, during this period, he would steal down into the kitchen, and, with the jacktowel for a robe, the rolling-pin for a truncheon, and the dripping-pan for a shield, delight its population by a display of his histrionic powers. Sometimes, he would do a bit of Bajazet, and rattle the jack-chain for his fetters; at others, the crook'd-back tyrant, and brandish a lark-spit for his sword, while he ran round the kitchen, calling out, "A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!" Sometimes he was the love-sick Romeo; and then the fat cook was made to stand behind the meat screen for Juliet in the balcony while at others, the coachman had half the contents of the flour-tub rubbed over his face for the Ghost in Hamlet, while our hero apostrophized him as the "Royal Dane.” Whenever it chanced that he could get all the servants together, he would seat the whole of them at the large table-cook, coachman, house-maid, footman, errand-boy, and scullion—as representatives of the assembled Venetian senate, and recount, with such moving pathos, how he won the love of Desdemona, that the house-maid has been known to sob, and declare, that "any man, even though he was a blackamoor, might make love in that way." These were his juvenile ex

ploits; but as he grew up to man's estate, his ambition took a wider range. When he was only sixteen, he played Hotspur at a private theatre, and distinguished himself in Achmet, in Barbarossa, Prince Hal, Romeo, and Young Norval. As he advanced in years, he advanced in fame; and, by the time he was twenty, there was at least one person in his Majesty's dominions who entertained no doubt that all the separate excellencies which had distinguished Garrick, Betterton, Henderson, Quinn, &c. down to John Kemble and Mrs. Siddons, were concentrated in that most extraordinarily gifted young gentleman, Mr. Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs. The same person was also of opinion, that it amounted almost to a national calamity, that, being a gentleman, the display of his unrivalled genius was confined to occasional amateur exhibitions, instead of delighting assembled thousands every night. At such moments, however, he was sometimes wont to derive consolation from the reflection, that the actor's fame was preeminently of a perishable quality, and that it lived after him, literally, a vox et præterea nihil; while he would often repeat, with a sigh, the melancholy truths contained in the following lines :—

"Think, hapless artist, though thy skill can

raise

The bursting peal of universal praise; Though, at thy beck, applause delighted stands, And lifts, Briareus-like, her hundred hands; Yet fame awards thee but a partial breath : Not all thy talents brave the stroke of death! The pliant muscles of the various face,

The mien that gave each sentence strength

and grace, The tuneful voice, the eye that spoke the mind,

Are gone, nor leave a single trace behind!"

It was a natural consequence of this theatrical ardor, that Mr. Stubbs eagerly cultivated the acquaintance of tragedians, comedians, managers, and dramatic writers. It was his supreme delight to have them at his table; and as he kept a good table, gave good wines, and excelled in his cuisine, it was a delight he could command whenever he chose. He had the

entré, also, of the green-room at both theatres, and acquired an intimate knowledge of all the feuds, rivalries, managerial oppressions, intrigues, burlesque dignity, and solemn plausibilities, of that mimic world. Living thus in an atmosphere electrical, as it were, with excitement, it is no wonder that, by degrees, he became less and less sensitive with regard to that ambiguous difficulty which had hitherto impeded the gratification nearest his heart. He was still a GENTLEMAN ; but why should that mere worldly distinction be insuperable? It was true, the mingled blood of the Grograms and the Stubbses flowed in his veins; but it was no less true, that the patrician blood of the Stanleys, the Thurlows, and the Cravens, had mingled with the theatrical blood of a Farren, a Bolton, and a Brunton; to say nothing of the blood-royal itself, which had mingled with that of a Jordan. Besides, though he, Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs, was a "gentleman," he could not forget that he had a cousin who was only a pork-butcher in the Minories, and an uncle, whom he had heard of, who was a dealer in marine stores in Little Britain.

When a man once begins to reason with himself upon the absurdity of not following his inclinations, he is very near the discovery of a good reason why he should follow them. So it was with Mr. Stubbs. His family scruples oozed away, day by day, and hour by hour.

At last, the happy thought suggested itself one night, as he was he stepped into bed, that there would extinguishing his candle just before be something like fame and distinction in the bare circumstance of a "gentleman" forsaking the elegant retirement of polished life, to tread the stage. He lay awake nearly half an hour, ruminating upon this newborn fancy. Other visions of renown came streaming into his mind. He warmed with the idea of receiving no salary, at least not for his own benefit, but of appropriating the thousands he should realise to the Theatrical Fund, or to the encouragement of less

prosperous talents than his own; and he anticipated the honor that would gather round his name as the grateful reward of such unexampled munificence. In the midst of these reflections, he fell asleep. Happy Stubbs! He dreamed of nothing but overflow ing houses-three rounds of applause every three minutes-electrified audiences-intoxicating criticisms-and a Stubbs fever, produced by the suffocating heat of crowded theatres in the dog-days.

It happened the very next morning, while Mr. Stubbs was sipping his chocolate, and reading, in the Morning Post, a criticism upon a new tragedy which had been most righteously damned the night before, that his intimate friend Mr. Peaess, the manager of theatre, dropped in. After the usual salutations were exchanged, and Mr. Peaess had remarked that it was a fine morning, and Mr. Stubbs had added that it was a windy one, Mr. Stubbs fell into a brown study. His mind labored with a gigantic purpose. It was moment on which hung indescribable consequences.-Shall I Will he Yes!-yes-And he did! He im parted to his friend, the manager, his resolution to make his FIRST APPEAR

ANCE.

a

Mr. Peaess affected to doubt the sincerity of the communication; but Mr. Stubbs affirmed, upon his honor "as a gentleman," that he was serious, and all Mr. Peaess's doubts "melted into thin air." It was settled he should dine that day with Stubbs, to discuss the matter further over a quiet glass of wine. The evening came. The dinner, as usual, was excellent; the wine, as usual, was superb; the manager, as usual, was complaisant; and Mr. Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs, as usual, was perfectly satisfied with himself. At first, Mr. Peaess entered into the project in the sober way of business; but at last, and as he shook him by the hand at parting, he swore he was a noble fellow, and his theatre should be thrown open for

the display of his talents." Happy Stubbs! Thrice happy Stubbs! The incessant cravings of a more than twenty years' ambition were now to be satisfied; the circumscribed glories of a private theatre were now to be exchanged for the wide-spread renown of an admiring empire; the uneclipsed dignity of the "gentleman" was now to blend its lustre with the dazzling splendor of another Garrick, rising above the theatrical horizon!

One only point remained to be settled. In what character should he burst upon the astonished town? Should he drown the house in tears with the sorrows of Lear? Or win admiration from sparkling eyes in Romeo? Or appal the stoutest hearts by the maddening passions of Othello? Or thrill the shrinking mind with the guilty terrors of the Ambitious Thane? Or " snarl, and bite, and play the dog" in Richard? His perplexity arose, not from balancing between doubtful qualifications, but from the difficulty of choosing where there was no preponderating one. He could play them all. He could play anything. He could play everything. He was like Bottom, in the Midsummer Night's Dream, who felt himself equal to Pyramus, Thisbe, and the Lion, at one and the same time. length he fixed upon Hamlet, chiefly because the character was so admirably diversified by Shakspeare, that it presented opportunities for the display of an equal diversity of talent in its representative.

At

He made no secret of his intention among his friends, and one, in particular, was privy to his whole course of preparation. This was Mr. M'Crab, a pungent little personage, whose occasional petulance and acrimony, however they might rankle and fester in more sensitive natures, were never known to curdle the bland consciousness of self-esteem which dwelt like a perpetual spring, upon the mind of Mr. Stubbs. Mr. McCrab was himself an amateur actor; he had also written a tolerably successful comedy, as well as an unsuccessful

tragedy; and he was, besides, a formidable critic, whose scalping strictures, in a weekly journal, were the terror of all authors and actors who were either unable or unwilling to dispense turtle and champagne.

Mr. Stubbs, it should be mentioned, considered himself a profound reader of Shakspeare, and believed he had discovered many hitherto concealed beauties in the wonderful productions of that writer. He prided himself, too, upon the critical acumen and philosophical penetration with which he had elicited various qualities intended by the poet to belong to his characters; and he had often said, if he had been an actor he should have established quite a new method of playing several of them. He was now about to become an actor, and he resolved, in his very first essay, to introduce one of his novelties, or new readings. What this was, will be best explained in the following conversation, which took place between himself and Mr. M'Crab upon the subject.

Depend upon it, my dear M'Crab," said Stubbs, taking down a volume of Shakspeare from his shelves, "depend upon it, I am borne out in my opinion, novel as it is, by the text of the immortal author himself; and I shall stuff the character when I play it. I maintain that Hamlet ought to be”.

¢

answer,

<'Tis he who gives my breast a thousand pains; Can make me feel each passion that he feigns; Enrage, compose, with more than magic art,With pity and with horror tear my heart.' But, come; let me hear your reasons for believing that Hamlet ought to be a portly gentleman. I see you are ready with them."

"No," rejoined Stubbs, "he should not be exactly corpulent-but rather embonpoint, as the saying is sleek-plumpish-in good condition as it were."

"You talk of the text of Shakspeare as your authority," replied M'Crab,-" I will appeal to the text too—and I will take the description of Hamlet by Ophelia, after her interview with him. What is her language?

O what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The expectancy and rose of the fair state; The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, The observed of all observers.'

This eulogium paints in distinct co

42 ATHENEUM, VOL. 2, 3d series.

appearance, against those of your next comedy, that I convince you I am right before I have done. Now, mark or, as Horatio says,

'Season your admiration for awhile,
With an attent ear, till I may deliver,
Upon the witness of these same pages,
This marvel to you.'

Ha! ha! that is apt," continued Mr.
Stubbs, with a simper.

"For God's love, let me hear," added M'Crab-" I hope that's apt, too."

"If," said Mr. Stubbs, looking extremely grave, "if, I say, we take the very first soliloquy of Hamlet-almost the first words he utters-we shall find a striking allusion to his habit of