d, we suppose, in this company, like the
skull at the feast) as a likable if somewhat melancholic young man;
while Garrick and his wife playing cards, after Zoffany, present a pair
of just very nice young people. On the other hand, the tail-pieces,
chiefly devoted to Garrick, prove what a wonderful natural variety
there was in Garrick's soul, and are well worth comparative study.
Noticeable again, among the whole-plate portraits, is the thoroughly
reassuring countenance of Steele, the singularly fine heads of John,
Charles, and Fanny Kemble, while the certainly plain, pinched
countenance of William Davenant reminds one of Charles Kean, and might
well have lighted up, as did his, when the soul came into it, into
power and charm, as the speaking eyes assure us even in its repose.

The Renaissance inherited the old foolish prejudice of Roman times,
when, although the writers of plays were the intimate friends of
emperors, the actors were thought infamous. [79] Still, on the whole,
actors fared better in England than in Romanist France, where Moliere
was buried with less ceremony than a favourite dog. Very different was
the treatment of the eminent Mrs. Oldfield, who died in 1730:--

"Poor 'Narcissa' after death (says Walpole) was attired in a Holland
nightdress, with tucker and double ruffles of Brunswick lace, of which
latter material she also wore a headdress, and a pair of new kid
gloves. In this dress the deceased actress received such honour as
actress never received before, nor has ever received since. The lady
lay in state in the Jerusalem Chamber. Had she been really a queen the
public could not have thronged more eagerly to the spectacle; and after
the lying in state there was a funeral of as much ceremony as has been
observed at the obsequies of many a queen. There were anthems and
prayers and a sermon; and Dr. Parker, who officiated, remarked, when
all was over, to a few particular friends, and with some equivocation,
as it seems to me, that he 'buried her very willingly, and with much
satisfaction.'"

Yet even in England players had need of [80] powerful protectors.
"Wit," said Chesterfield, opposing an unjust licensing Act, "Wit, my
lords! is the property of those who have it, and too often the only
property they have to depend on." Wit, indeed, with the other gifts
that make good company, has largely gone with theatrical talents, too
often little to the benefit of the gifted persons. Theatrical soci