him, at an age so advanced, run about the field of battle with so much fire, force, and agility.

He finished his dramatic race with one of his favorite parts, with Felix, in "The Wonder a Woman keeps a Secret." When the play was ended, Mr. Garrick advanced towards the audience, with much palpitation of mind, and visible emotion in his countenance. No premeditation whatever could prepare him for this affecting scene. He bowed-he paused the spectators were all attention. -After a short struggle of nature, he recovered from the shock he had felt, and addressed his auditors in the following words:

"Ladies and Gentlemen,

"It has been customary with persons under my circumstances to address you in a farewell epilogue; I had the same intention, and turned my thoughts that way; but indeed I found myself then as incapable of writing such an epilogue, as I should be now of speaking it.

"The gingle of rhime, and the language of fiction, would but ill suit my present feelings. This is to me a very awful moment; it is no less than parting for ever with those from whom I have received the greatest kindness and favors, and upon the spot where that kindness and those favors were enjoyed." [Here he was unable to proceed till he was relieved by a shower of tears.]

"Whatever may be the changes of my future life, the deepest impression of your kindness will always remain here,” [putting his hand on his breast] "fixed and unalterable.

"I will very readily agree to my successors having more skill and ability for their station than I have; but I defy them all to take more sincere, and more uninterrupted pains for your favor, or to be more truly sensible of it, than is your humble ser

vant."

After a profound obeisance, he retired, amidst the tears and acclamations of a most crowded and brilliant audience.

Mr. Garrick frequently, when disengaged from business, attended the debates of the house of commons, especially on such important questions as he knew would bring up all the best speakers of both parties.

In the spring of 1777, he happened to be present in the gallery. During a certain motion, which produced an altercation between a right honorable member and another honorable gentleman, which proceeded to that degree of warmth, that the speaker and the house were obliged to interpose, to prevent some apprehended bad consequences; whilst the house was in this agitation a Shropshire member happened to observe that Mr. Garrick was sitting in the gallery, and immediately moved to clear the house.

Mr. Burke rose, and appealed to the honorable assembly, whether it could possibly be consistent with the rules of decency and liberality, to exclude from the hearing of their debates, a man to whom they were all obliged; one who was the great master of eloquence, in which school they had all imbibed the art of speaking, and been taught the elements of rhetoric. For his part, he owned that he had been greatly indebted to his instructions. Much more he said in commendation of Mr. Garrick, and was warmly seconded by Mr. Fox and Mr. T. Townshend, who very copiously displayed the great merit of their old preceptor, as they termed him they reprobated the motion of the gentleman with great warmth and indignation.

The house almost unanimously concurred in exempting Mr. Garrick from the general order of quitting the gallery. He wrote the following poem on the occasion:

And if his lordship rise to speak;
Then wit and argument awake;

When Rigby speaks, and all may hear him,
Who can withstand, ridendo verum?
When Thurlow's words attention bind,

The spells of a superior mind;
Now, whether I were whig or tory,
This was a time for me to glory;
My glory farther still extends,
For most of these I call my friends:
But if 'squire B―n, you were hurt
To see me, as you thought, so pert,
You might have punished my transgression,
And damp'd the ardour of expression.
A brute there is, whose voice confounds,
And frights all others with strange sounds;
Had you, your matchless pow'rs displaying,
Like him, 'squire B-n, set a braying,
I should have lost all exultation,

Nor gloried in my situation."

In Christmas, 1778, Mr. and Mrs. Garrick were invited to the country seat of earl Spencer, where they had frequently been wel come guests. In the midst of this social happiness, and rational pleasure, which every body enjoys with that noble family, Mr. Garrick was seized with a terrible fit of his old distemper. His having the herpes, or what is commonly called the shingles, at the same time, which perfectly covered his loins, alarmed Mrs. Garrick greatly, though the physicians said it was a matter of no importance. He was so well recovered of his disorder, the gravel and stone, that he determined to set out for London. He arrived

at his house in the Adelph on Friday the 15th of January, 1779. The next day he sent for his apothecary, Mr. Lawrence, who found him dressing himself, and seemingly in good health, but somewhat alarmed that he had not for many hours, discharged any urine, when his constant practice had been, for some years, to make water every four hours. Mr. Lawrence observed to him, that this was not sufficient cause to make him uneasy; but when on the next day, he found the same symptom continue, he judged it proper to acquaint Dr. Cadogan with it. The Dr. conceiv

ed it to be of so serious a nature, that he told Mr. Garrick his disorder was so uncertain in his progress, that it was necessary to inform him, if he had any worldly affairs to settle, it would be prudent to dispatch them as soon as possible. Mr. Garrick assured him, that nothing of that sort lay on his mind, and that he was not afraid to die.

The distemper was incessantly gaining ground: the fluids not passing in their natural course brought on a kind of stupor which increased gradually to the time of his death.

About two days before he died, he was visited by an old acquaintance, a man whose company and conversation every body covets, because his humour is harmless, and his pleasantry diverting. He was introduced to Mrs. Garrick, who was much indisposed, from the fatigue she had undergone in her long and constant attendance upon her husband; a duty which she had never omitted during any illness of his life. She persuaded this friend to stay and dine with her, expecting from him some little alleviation of her uneasiness from sympathy, and some ease of condolement from his company in her present situation. While they were talking, Mr. Garrick came into the room; but oh! how changed from that vivacity and sprightliness which used to accompany every thing he said, and every thing he did! His countenance was sallow and wan, his movement slow and solemn. Being wrapped in a rich night-gown, like that which he always wore in Lusignan, the venerable old king of Jerusalem, he presented himself to the imagination of his friend as if he was just ready to act that character. He sat down; and during the space of an hour, the time he remained in the room, he did not utter a word. He rose, and withdrew to his chamber. Mrs. Garrick, and the gentleman dined.

Dr. Heberden and Dr. Warren were now called in. Several other physicians, many of whom were his intimate acquaintance, attended without any desire of reward, and solely from an eager inclination to give him relief, and to prolong a life so much valued by the public, and so dear to his friends. When Dr. Schomberg approached Mr. Garrick, he with a placid smile on his countenance, took him by the hand, and said, "Though last, not least in love."

The stupor was not so powerful as to hinder him from conversing occcasionally with a philosphical cheerfullness. He told Mr. Lawrence that he did not regret his being childless; for he knew the quickness of his feelings was so great, that in case it had been his misfortune to have had disobedient children, he could not have supported such an affliction.

On the day before his death, seeing a number of gentleman in his apartment, he asked Mr. Lawrence who they were: he was told they were all physicians, who came with an intention to be of service to him. He shook his head and repeated the following lines of Horatio in the Fair Penitent:

Another, and another, still succeeds:

And the last fool is welcome as the former.

During the remainder of his time, he continued easy and composed, and conversed with great tranquility. He had so little apprehension of death being so near, that he said to the servant that gave him a draught, a day or two before his death, "Well, Tom, I shall do very well yet, and make you amends for all this trouble."

He died on Wednesday morning, January the 20th, 1779, at eight o'clock, without a groan. Mr. Garrick's disease was pronounced by Mr. Pott to be a palsy in the kidnies.

On Monday, February 1, the body of Mr. Garrick was con. veyed from his own house in the Adelphi, and most magnificently interred in Westminster-Abbey, under the monument of his belov ed Shakespeare. He was attended to the grave by persons of the first rank; by men illustrious for genius, and famous for science; by those who loved him living, and lamented his death.

Twenty-four of the principal actors of both theatres were also attendants at the funeral; and with unfeigned sorrow regretted the loss of so great an ornament to their profession, and so munificent a benefactor to their charitable institution, the fund for the support of decayed players of Drury-lane theatre. It is computed, that by the product of his labours in acting annually capital parts, and by donations of one kind or other, he gained for this beneficial institution a capital of near £4,500.