wishing upon the occasion
that Alonzo could have bartered a portion of his judgment for a share of
the physical powers of Zanga; both would profit by the exchange.

In the Copper Captain Mr. Wood had a character very favourable to the
actor, and well suited to his powers and talents. Michael, however, is
one of those vigorous productions of the old comic muse in which a
player incurs the danger of overshooting the mark in his efforts not to
fall short of it. One in which while the judicious actor luxuriates, and
gives a force to his whole comic powers, he finds it difficult to
observe very strictly the _ne quid nimis_ of the critic. The correct and
chaste judgment of Mr. Wood kept the bridle so firm on his performance
of it, that we do not think he once "o'erstepped the modesty of nature."

In his performance of Iago we thought Mr. Wood inferior to himself. How
could he or any actor be expected to get through his business under the
circumstances of the theatre on that evening. A band of drunken butchers
had got into two of the front boxes, and converted them into a
grog-shop!

In the prince of Wales in Henry IV. Mr. Wood displayed the versatility
of his talents. In the gay, thoughtless, trifling rake, the "madcap"
prince, he was spirited, and playful without puerility; in the serious
parts, whether as the penitent apologizing son, or the martial hero, he
was judicious, impressive, and not deficient in military importance.

Where we see so much merit, merit so entirely his own, we advert to
faults with great reluctance. But it is our duty and we must do it. Of
the contagious nature of the KEMBLE PLAGUE in acting we cannot adduce a
more lamentable proof than that it sometimes taints even this very
judicious performer. How has it been endured by the British public, how
can it be reconciled to common sense, that players who are supposed to
represent human beings, and who assume to speak and act as men in real
existence, speak and act in the commerce of the world, should
constantly utter the lines set down for them, in such a manner as no
rational creature in real life ever yet did utter them, or ever will?
Does it give force, interest or dignity to the lines of a speech to take
up twice or thrice as much time in speaking them as the most formal,
deliberate, or pompous prig of an orator would employ upon them? Why
will not actors condescend to speak "_like the folks of this world_,"
particularly as they pretend to imitat