urried, and
overhearing tones of Nero--the voice of deep and exhausting suffering,
which in Hamlet shews so profound an impression of the misery he had
undergone, and of the hopelessness of the situation in which he is
placed,--or still more the shriek of agony in Orestes, when he finds the
horrors of madness again assailing him, and when, in that utter
prostration of soul which the belief of inevitable and merciless destiny
alone could produce in his mind, he abandons himself in dark despair to
the misery which seems to close around him for ever.

We have heard several English people describe Talma's countenance, as by
no means powerful enough for a great actor; it appeared to us, that in
no one respect was he so decidedly superior to any _actor_ on the
English stage, as in the truth and variety of expression which it
displays. There is one observation indeed regarding the acting of Talma,
which often suggested itself, and which may, in some degree, prepare us
to expect, that English people in general could not be much struck with
the expression of his countenance. On the English stage, it appears
commonly to be the object of the actors, to give to every sentiment the
whole effect of which the words of the part will admit, as fully as if
that sentiment were the only one which could occupy the mind of the
character at the time; and any person who will attend to the manner in
which Macbeth and Hamlet are performed, even by that great actor whose
genius has secured at once the pre-eminence which the reputation of
Garrick had left so long uncontested, may observe, that many of the
parts, which are applauded as the strongest proofs of the abilities of
the actor, consist in the expression given to sentiments, undoubtedly of
subordinate importance in the situation of these characters, and which
probably could never occupy so exclusively the mind of any one really
placed in the circumstances represented in the play, and under the
influence of the feelings which such circumstances are calculated to
produce. In the character of Hamlet, in particular, there are several
passages, in which it is the custom to express minor and passing
sentiments with a keenness little suitable to the profound grief in
which Hamlet ought to be absorbed at the commencement of the play, and
which can be natural only when the mind is free from other more powerful
emotions. It appears to us, that the consistency of character is much
more judiciously and