sees, but by the magistrates of
the borough, who were determined to put a stop, by all means in their
power, to a recurrence of such disgraceful proceedings, and attempts on
the part of an unthinking public to force gentlemen to do what they did
not consider right or equitable. The verdict returned was "guilty of
riot, but not of conspiracy."

CHAPTER XV.

I have never been much of a play-goer, but have occasionally visited the
theatres when remarkable performers have appeared. I recollect many of
the leading actors and actresses of the close of the last century, while
all the great ones of this I have seen from time to time. Joe Munden,
Incledon, Braham, Fawcett, Michael Kelly, Mrs. Crouch, Mrs. Siddons,
Madame Catalani Booth, and Cooke, and all the bright stars who have been
ennobled--Miss Farrell (Lady Derby), Miss Bolton (Lady Thurlow), Miss
Stephens (Countess of Essex), Miss Love (Lady Harboro), Miss Foote
(Marchioness Harrington), Miss Mellon (Duchess of St. Alban's), Miss
O'Neil (Lady Beecher)--but I must say the old and the new style of
acting, appear to be very different. Mrs. Siddons exhibited the highest
perfection of acting. I cannot conceive anything that can go beyond it
in dramatic art.

I was present when John Kemble bade farewell to the Liverpool audiences.
It took place in the summer of 1813. The play was "Coriolanus." The
house was crowded to excess, and the utmost enthusiasm was exhibited in
favour of the great tragedian; who, although not a townsman, was at any
rate a county man, he having been born at Prescot.

Mr. Kemble, when addressing the audience on that occasion, made a very
remarkable declaration. He said that "it was on the Liverpool stage he
first adapted the play of 'Coriolanus,' and produced it, as they had just
seen it performed, and that it was the earnest encouragement he then
received that proved a great stimulus to him in after life."

A statement of the sums of money received at benefits amongst the "old
stagers" may perhaps interest some of my readers. I am going back a long
way, but I do so that those who know or who guess at the receipts of the
"moderns" may compare them with those of the "ancients." In 1795 Mrs.
Maddocks, a most delightful actress, and an immense favourite in
Liverpool, drew 213 pounds; Mrs. Powell, 207 pounds; Mr Banks, 183
pounds; Mr. Whitfield, 135 pounds. Mr. Kelly, the Irish singer, and Mrs.
Crouch, a most charming and fascinating w