complete list as soon as possible, that I may look it over, and consider the business for your's and our own interests. If you would add the parts you would wish to play, not yet studied by you, I shall perhaps be more prepared to show my regard as occasions reasonably offer. Though you must not expect to perform half the characters you may put down; yet, as I shall always regard you for the future (the little neglects of me being totally forgotten) as one of my dramatic family, and a sincere friend to the cause and me, I shall take every opportunity of serving you, when compatible with reason and justice, as I am sure your good sense would not desire my friendship upon any other footing. You may depend upon it that I am and shall be your sincere friend and warm well-wisher, “D. GARRICK.

“ Hampton, July 4th, 1771."

On the 20th September, 1771, she played Imogen, at Drury Lane, her first appearance since her return from Ireland, and remained at that theatre till after Garrick's death.

Miss Younge subscribed to the Drury Lane Fund from its first formation till her death.

On the 8th of June, 1776, Garrick played Lear; it was the last night but one of his appearing on the stage. The curtain fell in the usual way, with his hand locked in Miss Younge's, who played Cordelia ; in that way he led her into the green-room, and recollecting that his next performance was to be his last—he said, with a sigh-—" Ah Bess! this is the last time of my being your father, you must now look out for some one else to adopt you.” “Then, Sir,” said she, falling upon her knees, “pray give me a father's blessing !” Raising her up, he said—“God bless you!" and adding to the performers (who had crowded round them) in a faltering but affectionate tone, “God bless you all!” hurried out of the room. Mrs. Pope used to relate this, with great pleasure, but seldom without shedding tears.

At Liverpool, in the summer, she received a letter from a person of large property in the neighbourhood, expressing his admiration and devotion, and enclosing a fifty-pound note. The object of this liberality was not to be misunderstood; she therefore directed that, when the gentleman came as he had appointed to do, the next morning, he might be shown into her apartment, and that the servant should remain within call. When he arrived, she was at breakfast; on entering the room, the stranger walked up to her in a very unceremonious manner-she raised her hand and said, “ Are you, Sir, the person who sent this note ?" “Yes, my dear creature !” said the gentleman: “You are irresistible !" again advancing nearer to her. “Stop, Sir," said she: “ Leave the room instantly!” saying which she threw the fifty-pound note into the fire, and rang the bell. The gentleman said nothing, but walked off, minus his fifty pounds.

At the end of the season, 1778-9, she quitted Drury Lane Theatre, Sheridan not acceding to her terms of 201. a-week, a free benefit, besides a large sum for dresses. She joined the Covent Garden Company, and made her first appearance there, on the 10th of November, 1779, in a play taken from Massinger and Fenton, called “The Duke of Milan,” and at that theatre she continued during the remainder of her life except one season.

In February, 1780, Mrs. Cowley's comedy of the "Belle's Stratagem,” was produced, in which Miss Younge was the original Letitia Hardy: this part established her with the public as the first comedy actress of the day.

Sept.-Vol. LIV. NO. CCXIII.

In October, 1782, when Mrs. Siddons so justly obtained the admiration of all the play-going people in London, and Drury Lane Theatre became the Temple of the Muses, Miss Younge kept before her the advice of our immortal bard

“ In the reproof of chance

Lies the true proof of men.” As her temper, talents, and assiduity never forsook her, she supported herself as a respectable antagonist, doing her duty with increased zeal; and though the name of Mrs. Siddons carried with it the great tide of popularity, Miss Younge kept her rank as an excellent judicious actress, unmatched in many characters, and in powers of equal declamation superior to any one on the stage. In October, 1781, she received the following letter :

Strawberry Hill, Oct. 22, 1781. “It will, I fear, seem impertinent in an absolute stranger to take the liberty of asking a favour of you ; nor should I use so much freedom if I were not persuaded that whoerer contributes to calling forth your great powers for the stage does at once serve your talents and the public. Mr. Jephson, who has long been my friend, and who has proved himself so by making a rational and interesting tragedy out of my wild • Castle of Otranto,' cannot bring it on the stage to advantage, unless you, Madam, will be pleased to appear in the character of Hortensia, the wife of the Count of Narbonne. Mr. Jephson has made her a very sublime character, and improved on my sketch, by making her a more natural one, in giving her jealousy, and thence forming a fine contrast between her piety and that disordering passion : the other female character is one very common in plays, and that admits of none of the violent transitions which only such a capital actress as you, Madam, are capable of displaying. The daughter is a simple, tender maid, bred up in ignorance and devotion, and demands nothing but plaintive, innocent tones. Mrs. Crawford declined the mother's part, but, I believe, from resentment on her husband's account, whom Mr. Jephson had undervalued. I will not suspect that she had the weakness of preferring the daughter's part for its youth, because she must know the world too well not to be sensible that nothing makes the middle age so apparent as appearing in too juvenile a light.

* If I am not much mistaken, Madam, when you hear the play read you will be struck with the opportunities that the Countess's part will give you of exerting the variety of your abilities. Devotion and jealousy contrasted are not all-there is conjugal and maternal tenderness too, very different shades, as you know, Madam; there is sovereign dignity, and the philosophic command of pride in wishing to wave that dignity. But unless I were as great a master of the stage, as you are a mistress. Madam, I could not describe half that you will call out from the part, and I will trust to your good sense more than my own rhetoric for the part's making an impression on you. I am, with great respect, Madam, “Your most obedient humble servant,

“ Hor. WALPOLE.” In the summer of the same year (1782) Miss Yomge was engaged for a short period at Dublin. On her arrival she lodged at her former quarters, a milliner's. This said milliner's was the gossiping-shop of the theatrical idlers; there dramatic affairs were talked over and settled with as much party-feeling (for there are always two parties in dramatic controversy as well as in politics) as if the fate of the nation was at stake upon every trifling subject.

Alexander Pope was a frequent dropper-in, and a great favourite at the millineris. Miss Younge made her debut-Pope was present, was charmed, and, the next morning, paid a visit to the milliner, expressed his delight at her acting, wished for an interview, under the plea of taking her portrait. An opportunity very shortly after presented itself of introducing the subject, and she obtained her consent to introduce him. That night the theatre was not opened ; Pope called and was introduced; he acted Romeo, and Miss Younge assisted him by playing Juliet-Mrs. Milliner remaining as audience. Miss Younge was greatly pleased with him (he was then a handsome young man, just two-and-twenty); she told him such a person was greatly wanted in London, for Lewes and Wroughton were now grown unfit for the tragedy lovers, and promised, on her return to London, to speak to Mr. Harris on the subject, and gave him every reason to expect a London engagement. Pope was so delighted with his interview, that he dreamed of nothing but acting on Covent Garden stage with Miss Younge. They had another interview in presence of the landlady—he took his leave, and Miss Younge returned to London; but Pope heard nothing of his expected Covent Garden triumphal entry.

He continued his occupation with zeal and industry-gave up all thoughts of a London engagement—and said to himself, “ 'Tis true that promises, like pie-crust, are made to be broken.” He continued to act in private, and in the summer performed Oronooko for a charity benefit with so much éclat that the Dublin papers spoke of his acting in the highest terms. Now, whether this got into the London papers, and brought him to Miss Younge's memory, is of no great consequence; but, certain it is, that, about a fortnight after, passing by the old shop, out came Mrs. Milliner, with a letter in her hand, which, she said, she had just received from England, “ from your Juliet.”—“Tell your young friend, the artist, that there is an excellent opportunity for him now at Covent Garden; I have spoken to Mr. Harris, who is willing to give him a trial, and, if successful, an engagement; but by all means advise him not to lose time, for I hear there is a young man of much promise to have a trial in Romeo." Pope was delighted with the information, and, although he was making four hundred a-year by his profession, gave it up, and would have done so had it been ten times as much, upon the bare chance of a London engagement. He gave notice to all his sitters that he was about to leave Dublin in a fortnight, and that all business must be concluded in that time. However, twice that period elapsed before he finished his pictures in hand and collected his money. Another letter arrived at the milliner's, saying, “ His delay had been unlucky, for that the young man (Holmani, whom Watson of Cheltenham advertised as the handsomest man in the world) had been very successful, but still advising him to come; and he shortly after started for England.

Pope appeared on the Covent Garden stage on the 8th of January, 1785, in Oronooko, to the Imoinda of Miss Younge. At last his dream came true; he was announced on the first night as a young gentleman, his first appearance on any stage. He was very successful, but Holman was engaged for three years at 101., 11l., and 121. a-week; therefore Harris told him he could not engage him for that season, but if he wished to continue, he should have a benefit, which he would guarantee to produce him 2001., and an engagement for the next and the two following seasons at 81., 91., and 101. a-week; this he at first refused, but, by the advice of his friends, afterwards accepted. He repeated Oronooko on the next play-night; his third appearance did not take place till the 19th, when he acted Jaffier. The morning after his debut (Sunday) his lodging was thronged with visits of congratulation, and (to use his own words), “ I that morning fancied myself as great a man as Garrick.”

Pope had a handsome face, good person, genteel figure, and graceful action; his voice possessed a firmness, and, in the softer tones, called the soul-moving Barry to the recollection of his hearers; and, like Barry's, bid fair

“ To storm the heart,

Or melt it with his tales of love ;" but his countenance was scarcely sufficiently expressive to give full effect to the passions of grief, joy, or disdain.

Miss Younge at this period kept her carriage, and had a house in Half-moon Street. She gave select dinners, to some of which Pope was invited, but Holman was the great man there, and Pope (the master that was to be) was scarcely noticed.

In the summer Miss Younge and Pope were engaged at Dublin. Miss Younge always travelled with her sister, who was called the captain. Pope made a third in a post-chaise, and the captain was appointed purse-bearer. At Oxford the captain was taken so ill as to be incapable of proceeding, and they journeyed on without her. Within two miles of Witney, when night's dark mantle spread around, a horseman came, full gallop, and vociferated “ Stop!” and the inhabitants of the chaise said “Go on!” The horseman soon overtook the chaise, still crying “Stop!” and, riding up to the window, rattled his pistol against the glass. Pope, the gallant, gay Lothario, drew his sword, which happened to be a stage one, and made a thrust at the highwayman through the window. The rattling of the glass, and the other circumstances combined, caused Miss Younge to faint in Pope's arms. He seized the glorious opportunity, and imprinted a kiss of love upon her trembling lips. A second restored her, when, seizing his hand, she inquired in tender ac. cents after his safety, and if he had killed the highwayman. When he explained to her that the highwayman turned out to be the ostler, his pistol the stock-purse, which the captain had sent after them, she was rejoiced at the explanation, and withdrew her hand, then heaved a sigh, and thanked Heaven it was no worse. The rest of their journey was devoted to an interchange of affectionate declaration, and, on the 11th of August, 1785, they were married, the bride being forty-five, the bridegroom twenty-three.

“ In love the heavens themselves do guide the state,

Money buys lands, but wives are sold by fate.” Arrangements were previously made that Mrs. Pope was to have the entire control and disposal of her property, which was then 80001.

Pope returned to Covent Garden, but his wife did not, Harris not acceding to her stipulation of playing a limited number of nights. She however played one night for her husband's benefit, Zenobia, and spoke an epilogue written by Peter Pindar.

In September, 1786, however, Mrs. Pope resumed her situation at Covent Garden Theatre, having dispensed with those stipulations which she had made the previous season. Her salary was 201. a-week.

In November, Pope received an anonymous letter of great length (twenty pages) signed“ Amicus ;" it was a most admirable criticism on his acting, but too long for insertion here. It was not till some years after that the writer acknowledged himself, being no other than the Right Honourable Francis North, Earl of Guildford.

Pope left Covent Garden in June, 1789, because Holman had one pound a-week more than he had, which, from the etiquette of the theatre, deprived him of some of the principal characters, and some theatrical privileges. He returned in September, 1792, and received a hearty welcome. In March, 1795, he was concerned with Holman, Fawcett, and Incledon, in readings and music, at Freemasons' Hall, during Lent.

It was the usage at Covent Garden Theatre to read a new comedy on a Saturday, and produce it that day four weeks-(a comedy has been latterly got up, as it is now termed, in four days). Holcroft's “Deserted Daughter” was read on the 11th of April, 1795 ; when it was over, Harris took Pope, aside and said he had a request to make. “Your part in the comedy just read,” said he,“ is very long, therefore to you only I need appeal; the usage has been, as you well know, to give twenty-eight days for the study of a comedy; we are late in the season, and unless I can bring it out in three weeks it will be of no service to me. Will you oblige me?" Pope unhesitatingly said " I will,” and it was produced on the 2nd of May. He got into great disgrace with his brother-actors for being the cause of breaking through what they considered a good old custom that ought never to have been disturbed.

Mrs. Pope continued to act till the 26th of January, 1797. She had been ill some time, but, being always anxious to do her duty, she ventured out, for the last time, upon the bare hint of Dr. Warren that her business might dissipate her disorder. She cheerfully tried the experiment, and acted Ellen Vortex in “ A Cure for the Heartache;" but her exertion had a contrary effect, and, instead of dissipating, it increased her malady; on her return she was seized with delirium, and was, for some time, deprived of all sensation. She took to her bed, and employed her time in prayer and pious resignation ; Miss Walpole, who had been instructed and brought upon the stage by Mrs. Pope, was her constant companion to the last, and was with her night and day. On the 13th of March she refused all nourishment, and exhibited strong symptoms of speedy dissolution. On the following day she seemed to wish for something, but what her friend could not understand ; but, on the Rev. Mr. Mathew calling, she appeared more composed: he read prayers to her, she closed her hands together as well as her infirm state would permit, joined fervently in devotion, then relapsed into a state of insensibility, and expired the next morning at half-past two without a groan.

By her marriage-settlement she had the power of disposing of the whole of her property by will; but, with that justice and propriety which distinguished her character through life, by dying intestate the whole of her property, except a few nominal legacies, came to her husband, and he came into possession of upwards of 70001., besides a well-furnished house in Half-moon Street.

On the 22nd her remains were removed to Westminster Abbey, where she was interred on the west side of the Cloister, near Barry and Clive. The funeral was conducted without ostentation; the members