genius, was life-long, and his descriptions of her acting convey a more vivid idea of its peculiar qualities and matchless effect than any others we can remember to have read.  Talma comes next in his regard as “the most finished artist of his time, not below Kean in his most energetic displays, and far above him in the refinement of his taste and the extent of his research—­equaling Kemble in dignity, unfettered by his stiffness and formality.”  He says acutely of Kean that “when under the impulse of his genius he seemed to clutch the whole idea of the man, ... but if he missed the character in his first attempt at conception he never could recover it by study.”  Of Kean, if of any actor, we might have feared that his notices would be tinged with jealousy; but not only does he render justice to his originality and “burning energy,” but his account of the only evening he ever spent in private with “this extraordinary man” brings into full relief the charm of his manners and personal qualities at a time when he was still unspoilt by flattery and unenfeebled by dissipation.  Sketches and criticisms more or less complete are given of many other great performers, whom, it is to be remembered, Macready had less opportunity of seeing in a variety of parts than if he had not himself been a busy member of the profession.  He can censure as well as praise—­less warmly, but not less candidly.  His verdict on Ristori, whom he saw after his retirement, may not improbably appear harsh to her admirers, but we should recommend them to ponder well before endeavoring to controvert it.

It would, however, be difficult if not impossible to name a volume of memoirs in which there is so little dispraise of individuals, such an absence of what can be characterized as depreciation either in the way of direct remark or of insinuation.  There will be no call for contradiction of any slurs upon character through perversion of facts or the repetition of hearsay calumny in its pages.  Nor does this seem to proceed from either a mere distaste for the chatter of gossips or an unwillingness to wound the feelings of survivors, though both these traits are discernible enough.  The strong and more pervading cause lay in an instinctive nobility of nature which sought only what was excellent and had no keen scent for blemishes or meannesses.  There are in his Diaries many bitter reproaches and vehement denunciations, but they are all directed against his own conduct.  Like Orlando, he will chide no breather in the world but himself, against whom he knows most faults.  He had the defects incidental to a sensitive organization, an irritable temperament and an aspiring mind.  He was apt to suspect hostility where none existed, and to resent indignities that were never intended.  He confesses on one occasion at least to an unworthy elation at the inferiority of a rival.  Above all, he was unable to curb the outbreaks of impatience and anger excited by negligence or stupidity—­outbreaks