rs as well as of men,
Hereafter be fixed by the tongue and the pen.
Most devoutly I wish that they both have their due,
And that _I_ may be never mistaken for _U_."

Comparing Garrick with Betterton, it must be remembered that he was
more exposed to the attacks of envy from the very universality of
his success. Never, perhaps, was there a man in any profession
who combined so many various qualities. A fair poet, a most fluent
correspondent, an admirable conversationalist, possessing a person
of singular grace, a voice of marvellous expressiveness, and a
disposition so mercurial and vivacious as is rarely found in any
Englishman, he was destined to be a great social as well as a great
artistic success. He loved the society of men of birth and fashion; he
seems to have had a more passionate desire to please in private even
than in public, and almost to have justified the often quoted couplet
in Goldsmith's "Retaliation."

"On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting, 'Twas only
that when he was off he was acting."

Some men, envious of the substantial fortune which he realized by
almost incessant hard work, by thorough good principle with regard
to money, and by a noble, not a paltry, economy, might call him mean;
though many of them knew well, from their own experience, that his
nature was truly generous--his purse, as well as his heart, ever open
to a friend, however little he might deserve it. Yet they sneered
at his want of reckless extravagance, and called him a miser. The
greatest offender in this respect was Samuel Foote, a man of great
accomplishments, witty, but always ill-natured. It is difficult to
speak of Foote's conduct to Garrick in any moderate language. Mr.
Forster may assert that behind Foote's brutal jests there always
lurked a kindly feeling; but what can we think of the man who,
constantly receiving favors from Garrick's hand, could never speak of
him before others without a sneer; who the moment he had received the
loan of money or other favor for which he had cringed, snarled--I will
not say like a dog, for no dog is so ungrateful--and snapped at the
hand which had administered to him of its bounty. When this man,
who had never spared a friend, whose whole life had been passed in
maligning others, at last was himself a victim of a vile and cruel
slander, Garrick forgot the gibes and sneers of which Foote had made
him so often the victim, and stood by him with a noble devot