THE LATE MR. TERRY.

WHEN a favourite actor takes leave of life and the stage together, the feelings of the parties who have regarded him with favour are not unlike those which rise on the departure of a friend. There is that knowledge of the minutest variations of countenance and voice—tokens imperceptible to general acquaintance—which is possessed only by old intimates; and thus when an intercourse—ever agreeable to one • ot too often sustained by the other with pain and heaviness of heart—is interrupted by death pouncing on him who has • so often beguiled us out of ourselves, the privation not unreasonably ranks among those saddening blows, of which a man must endure his appointed number ere he drops himself. There are several circum stances—accidental some, and some peculiar to the performer who has SO recently made his last exit—to dispose those who have stood by the theatre through good report and evil—of which the last hath in these latter days fearfully preponderated—to muse with more than usual regret on the departure of TERRY ; one of the last green leaves lingering on a trunk older than the Yardley Oak—whilst yet that oak stood—and as hollow, sapless, rotten, and decayed.

" Time made thee what thou wast, king of the woods;

And Time hath made thee what thou art—a cave FOR OWLS TO ROOST IN. . . . Thou bast outlived Thy popularity, and art become . . . a thing Forgotten as the foliage of thy youth. . . .

Thine arms have left thee. . . .

Some have left A splinter'd stump bleach'd to a snowy white ; And some memorial none, where once they grew. .

Yet life still lingers in thee, and puts forth

Proof not contemptible of what she can

I. Even where death predominates." TERRY, if not the last, was of the very last few surviving intellectual erformers, of whom KEMBLE, and, before him, GARRICK, are the departed chiefs. It is not the intention of this obituary tribute to illappreciated excellence, of however high an order, to claim for TERRY an even rank with those great names ; hut he was of them, and he is high in the class in which they were pre-eminent raliVit-if may be presumed that souls hereafter—disentangled from those fleshy integuments.whichin this life hide congenial spirits from each other— knowand are known of one another with a less unerring instinct, poor TERRY will find himself welcomed, by all that ever lived great or intellectual in his art, with that spiritual embrace

"which obstacle finds none Of membrane, joint, or limb."

Like KEMBLE, our lamented friend—for so it pleases the writer to regard him, though except on the stage his eyes beheldJaim never— brought to the profession which he adorned, a high respect for the art, as offering, when dilly considered and legitimately and successfully purused, an intellectual eminence, to which it was worthy of a cultivated mind to aspire. Such success to secure by such arduous path,., Tiny exerted in the study a strong miderstaridinti., cultivated by scholarship.; and found full employment for a mind above the common level, in what the actors of this day see only an exercise of features, voice, and limbs,—pleasing, as has been well remarked, when they chance to please, "they know not wijy27 and offendingz_as they mostly do, "they know not 'how. lititiFt's pigeii-siFiSr as a man of letters have been stated by contemporaries with due ,distinction; and those who knewhim well can testify, on better grounds than of the I'Vaverley romances ". Terrified into treading the stage:* that his reading had not been thrown away on unpropitious ground, but that his conversation. exhibited the fruits of a naturally good soil well sown arid carefully nurtured. Something there must have been in the man who preserved. through life the constant regard of the most accomplished mind of this age; and the friendship or Sir WALTER SCOTT—of all men's least likely to be unworthily bestowed—was in the instance of TERRY merited by qualifications which that great man knows to respect wherever and in whomsoever he happens to discover them. He who played so many parts eminently well on the stage, uniformly enacted one and the same with equal ability off;—and the claims of the wellinformed gentleman reinforced in the esteem of his friend those of "the admirable player, and rendered his presence as acceptable at the table as in the theatre.

The acting of TERRY was eminently the result of intellectual labour —the produce of a strong imagination and quick sympathy, roused and acted on by the works of the great men whose visions he undertook to embody ; and rectified and invigorated by study in that larger volume of nature in which he, equally with themselves, was a diligent reader. And if any efforts of imagination are worthy of being assimilated to those which created a Lear or a Faistqlf, surely none approach so near, both in kind and in degree, as those by which an actor is enabled to take from the volume of "thoughts that breathe and words that burn," an idea of character, and so imbue and possess himself therewith, as to walk forth before the assembled multitude the very creature of the poet's conception, confessed by all that have the ordinary instinct of men and the ordinary knowledge of the great original. And if TERRY stood not among the very first of the arch-evocators of the bold and the ambitious—the heroically daring, the supremely miserable, the greatly good, and the desperately bad—which people the pages of a drama rich beyond that of all nations in every variety of character of which humanity is capable,—it was not that he wanted either an adequate grasp of intellect—force of imagination—intensity of feeling—downright rough energy and vigour,—but that nature had not cast him in the mould of a KEMBLE, with form, action, and gait to do justice to the loftiness of his conceptions ; or given him the supple limbs and countenance of GARRICK to blaze out on the audience in their full force, precision, and vitality. That TERRY'S ambition ever meditated the loftiest heights of his arduous profession, may be an assertion marvellous in the ears of those who knew this most accommodating of actors only on the London boards,—where he lent himself to whatever part suited the general convenience, or which the inordinate and exclusive ambition of vulgar Stars permitted him to take: nevertheless, that he net only meditated, but with daring foot actually scaled those heights, ison record in the words of an able critique, in which we have authority for saying, and in which internal evidence would in the absence of such authority entitle us to say, the hand of Sir WALTER SCOTT may be descried. It is with pleasure that * The once Great Unknown's own pun, in noticing Terry's successive adaptations of his novels to the stage. we put once again in circulation this clever piece of dramatic criticism, both on the ground of its own merits, and that, there is a certain melancholy fitness in the idea of celebrating the sun long obscured and now unhappily set in clouds and darkness, with the praises which announced its rising splendour, and augured for it a brighter career* than the ignorance or insensibility of the public vouchsafed.

" At the head of the performers who appeared on our stage for the first time, must undoubtedly he placed Mr. Terry ; an actor of very comprehen sive and very eminent talents. He has successfully exhibited his powers in

tragedy, comedy, pantomime, and farce; and, with the exception of lovers, fir4e gentlemen, and vocal heroes, there is scarcely a class of characters in the

range of the drama, some one of which he does not fill with excellence. His figure is not striking, though muscular and active ; but he has a powerful voice, an expressive countenance, and an intellect eminently clear, vigorous, and discriminating. In tragedy, his merit is alike in those characters which exhibit the strong workings of a powerful mind, and the deepest tortures of an agonized heart. But his grief is best when it is required to be vehement ; the tone of his feelings is ardent and impassioned ; and we do not see the full effect of his powers, unless when his grief is exasperated to frenzy, or combined with the darker shades of guilt, remorse, or despair. In the display of tender emotion, we should think he would fail ; but he carefully abstains from those characters in which it is required. He has performed King John, Lear, and Macbeth, all of them with approbation, the two first with distinguished applause.: In the celebrated scene with Hubert, he excited a sensation of horror which thrilled the whole audience; and in Lear he marked with equal power the shades of incipient insanity creeping over the mind and obscuring ere they altogether eclipsed the light of reason. In comedy he excels chiefly in old men ; equally in those of natural every-day life, as in the tottering caricatures of Centliore, Vanburgh, and Cibber. His Sir Peter Teazle, Sir Bashful Constant, and Sir Anthony Absolute, are extremely good ; and in Lord Ogleby we are inclined to think he hag no rival on the stage. He has also essayed the arduous character of Falstaff; and, notwithstanding the disadvantages of a thin face and figure, he has, by the power of his penetrating and accurate intellect, raised it to an equality with any one he performs. In characters of amorous dotage and fretful peevish mess, he is not less successful; of which his Sir Francis Gripe, Don Manuel, and Sir Adam Contest are excellent instances.

"The chief fault of this excellent actor, is want of ease. In tragedy, he is often impressive, affecting, and even sublime ; in comedy, humorous, satirical, and droll : in both he is classically correct ; hut he is never simple or flowing. His conceptions are just and original ; but we sometimes perceive the working of the spring; when we should only be impressed by the felicity of the effect. There are certain characters in Which this exhibition of the machinery does well ; but it ought in general to be avoided. This error in Mr. Terry we hold to have had its origin in the peculiar distinctness of his perceptions' the accuracy with which he is accustomed to analyze his characters, anda laudable anxiety to present thern,to his audience with unerring clearness and effect. This has imparted to his delivery an air of weighty precision and oracular strength which,though always vigorous and effective, is not always pleasing or appropriate. It has led also to a violence and frequency of emphasis, that aggravates the defects of a voice at all times :rather powerful than melodious, and. demands, for strong passion, an exaggeration and vehemence of tone and action, which not only injures the expression, but exhausts the performer. Yet Mr. Terry never rants; he sometimes gives needless or . hurtful force to a just feeling, but he never exhibits a false .one. Were this fault corrected. and, being still in the early vigour. Of _life, there is nothing. to prevent him from correcting it, we scarcely see an eminence to which Mr. Terry may not hope one day to attain. We entertain this expectation with the more confidence, because the rank which he has already reached depends, as we have 'said, less upon mere personal -qualifications than on the constant and uniform exertions of a mind acute, intelligent, well-informed, and, we believe, decidedly bent upon the attainment of professional excellence. His soul appears to us to be devoted to his profession, and that with an enlarged and comprehensive view of bis object. The exertions of each evening seem a Part of one general system. We never observe those starts of caprice or negligence, too often indulged by performers, who having acquired the public favour, they themselves know not why, endanger the loss of it they know not wherefore. It is a corresponding part of Mr. Terry's merit, that on the stage lie is uniformly attentive to the general business of the drama, and to the

support of his dramatic character. He never marks by his manner of playing that he is addressing an audience, or even that he is conscious of their presence. And as he is attentive to the maintenance of his own character, he aids, as far as possible, the scenic illusion, by acting as if those on the stage along with him were actually the persons they represent. This is a point much neglected by some performers, who, conscious of real merit themselves, conceive it gives them a right to despise their inferior brethren, forgetting, that if hamlet marks by his contemptuous conduct that his bosom confidant, Horatio, is only Mr. —, he inevitably forces upon the audience the conviction, that the Prince of Denmark is himself but a shadow. To receive as genuine the base coin which a manager must occasionally put into circu lation, may sometimes be a trial of patience ; but the more a performer of merit aids the theatrical delusion, by appearing to act with real persons, and under the influence of real motives, the more he will frame the audience to

that state of mind on which his higher and solitary efforts are calculated to

produce the most favourable effect. It is upon , our conviction that Mr. Terry acts from a happy mixture of genius, good taste, and mature reflection, that we venture to augur boldly of his future fortunes, though not to presage the extent of his success. The extent of the triumph of personal qualifications, even the most brilliant, can be readily estimated; but there is no Placing bounds to the march of mental energy, where there are no physical Obstructions to its career."

The towering elevation to which this competent critic conceived it in the power and in the destiny of TERRY to attain, it is well known he never reached. But this single-minded ador of a school that closes with him, knew and practised none.but the old and meritorious way to eminence ; and seeking it by desert, found not what the ignorant mob which now fills our Dom-daniels of vice and ennui award only to elinquant and vulgarity. TERRY disdained the artifices on which alone now is a theatrical reputation to be built; and could not believe that the great art of GARRICK and KEMBLE was comprised in a growl or a grimace—a quaint gesture, a laugh, or sneer—a new-reading—a pause—a trick—as empty-pated as Puffs Lord Burleigh's oracular shake of the head, and as deserving of laughter from all beings pretending to intellect. TERRY had another peculiarity—consistent with the simple and primitive turn of his genius, but which mainly contributed to keep the * The reader is referred to the Edinburgh Annual Register of 1809, Vol. IL, Part II., p.3s7, &c. big London pit in partial ignorance of the merits of the performer. He never affected the honours of a " star," twinkling through clouds in solitary brilliancy, and coveting a stage everywhere else black and dark whereon to manifest his splendour. He was well known to managers as a something more extraordinary even than a great actor —who in proportion to his presumed greatness is generally a petted one ;—TErtav was a manageable actor—the " most useful actor," in the words of the present proprietor and manager of one of the summer theatres, " that ever trod the boards—who never refused a part, never objected to a part as beneath him—gave himself no airs—did his best for the most insignificant, and did every thing well." In the eyes therefore of the well-judging pit, he could not possibly be a great performer, who has haply condescended ere now to be the Horatio or the Poknius of another's Hamlet. But TERRY, besides his noble spirit of accommodation, looked on the characters of a play as children of the same father, by the just representation of the meanest of which, just fame was to be acquired ; and that, for example, he who could personate well the friend of Handet was the fittest to stand in the shoes of Hamlet. So thought Mrs. S1DDONS at least ; who, we have heard, on her leave-taking visit to Edinburgh, selected TERRY to support her in her brother's parts, as the best substitute for JOHN KENIBLE. Thus with all intelligent lovers of the stage, did TERRY set himself practically and at his own cost, against a system which has planted the stage with sticks, that it might be left vacant for some little great actor to play tricks on before high heaven—which make the spirits of GARRICK and KEmBLE to grieve. it arose from this temper of a truly great mind, that TERRY was one of the most VERSATILE actors that ever trod the stage ;* not meaningby versatile that he was in the habit of filling merely the widest range of parts, but that he sustained more characters with more success than any performer of whom the present age can speak. As an instance of this, it may be observed, that lie whom Sir WALTER Scow has pronounced to have followed the first Lord Ogleby (KING) with not unequal steps—a part in which he has himself been worthily succeeded by FARREN—has been found, on the same night in which he gave to view the veritable battered old beau of COLEMAN and GARRICK, animating in the afterpiece the shaggy carcass of Orson. But when we reflect on TERRY'S natural endowments—his voice deeper than human —his great energies—deep passion—all indications of the rougher and stronger order of mortals—the wonder is, not that he could suitably personate man . "When wild in woods the noble savage ram"— but that he could tame himself down into the senile affectations and imbecility of a sexagenarian gallant. The marvel will not be diminished in the eyes of those who may bethink them of his Luke the Labourer, so well described in the Atlas of a former day ;* or his Gambler, represented by him in his last season at the Adelphi, in a way which made the same paper designate him as a ". Crabb&' among the actors. Indeed, with deference to the able critics of the North, it was in the homelier and more rugged characters of the irregular drama, where he 'could enjoy scope and room enough, that TERRY—who has oftener than once created a character whilst he acted it—was pre-eminent; and as the umquhile critic of the Atlas truly observed, the native tragedy of TERRY was the tragedy of the rough, downright, vigorous, and appalling writer of " Eustace Gray," and of a hundred tales of rustic villany and passion. Of the same rank, but in a different vein was his Job Mornberry, a part weakly conceived by the author, but amazingly powerful in the representation of TERRY ; who, as has been hinted, often acted a part with more humour than it was written, and ingrafted on inferior stocks the fertility of his own stronger feelings and richer humour.

One property in TERRY'S acting deserves to be particularized, not as the most eminent, but as being one in which, strange as it may appear, he stood alone,—he was the only actor of his time who could tell a long story well, and from whose mouth a long speech followed naturally and agreeably. -Of this power of riveting the attention of the audience to that of which it is at all times, and for the most part justly, impatient, many remarkable examples might be given. Suffice it here to name the Abbe de l'APee in the piece called Deaf andDumb. The good Abbe began his long story—which like an Euripidean prologue prefaces the business of the play—in the deliberate prosy manner of an old doctor, who in his patient is secure of a patient audience ; but it was strange to see how he warmed as he went, and how interest, feeling, energy, accumulated, till the AbbCt was wrought up into an excitement equalled only by that of the universal house, which had waxed and warmed equally with the narrator.

Along with the strong feelings and quick sympathy that elevated him to an adequate conception of the more impassioned spirits of the drama, TERRY possessed a fund of drollery and humour—rarely found combined with so much tragic excellence—which never failed to overflow in congenial characters, and often infused itself into those which character had little or none. His well-bred gentlemanly Devil, Mephistophiles, cannot be out of the recollection of the London audience, though five or six years have rolled over the memory thereof; and it would carry a lover of the stage yet further back to recall his curiously quaint personation of Malvolio—the only Malvolio of our times. A faint shadow of this inimitable performance yet lingers in an actor of merit on the Edinburgh boards, Mr. JONES, who occasionally favours the Athenian audience with TERRY in Malvolio ; just as FARRENand never did the latter perform in a style more worthy of himself than when he thus went out ot himself—enacted, at the Haymarket, TERRY in L'Honzme Gus, or Green, according to his English dress.

* " As an actor, Mr. Terry, though by no means ressatile, was in no character which be ever undertook otherwise than respectable !"—Thesapience of Me " MorninglIerard." TERrtst was eminent in the irascible, peevish, but in the main goodhearted old gentleman ; and it is in that shape, that this Proteus of the stage will rise most readily to the minds of those to whom it has been given only to see him in the close of his career ;—which, if it was not as refulgent as that of the greatest theatrical worthies, was so, not because as bright a sun shone not over-head, but because in the degraded last days of our Babylonian theatres, mists and fogs had arisen—an atmosphere of ignorance, vulgarity, and viee—which interposed to dim the lustre of genuine dramatic genius. But "though unbeheld in deep of night," that light shone not "in vain," nor" wanted spectators," though the million' wanted a due sense of it. The memory of TERRY is, and whilst this generation endures, will be cherished by the intelligent, as one of the first in merit, as truly as he was almost the last in existence, of the long line of great English actors.