Colley Cibber was born in London Nov. 6, 1671, and is known as much, or more, as a playwright, or poet as an actor. In his boyhood he tried for a scholarship at Winchester, but failed; afterwards he meditated going to the University, but the Revolution of 1688 broke out, and he was for a short time in the army as his father's substitute. He saw no service, and soon became an actor, _i.e._ in 1690, and did not quit the stage till 1730, in which year he was made Poet Laureate to George II. He died Dec. 12, 1757. Downes tells us he was 'A Gentleman of his time who has Arriv'd to an exceeding Perfection, in hitting justly the Humour of a starcht Beau or Fop; as the Lord _Fopington_; Sir _Fopling_ and Sir _Courtly_, equalling in the last the late eminent Mr. _Mountfort_, not much Inferior in Tragedy, had Nature given him Lungs, Strenuous to his finisht Judgment.' Gildon,[452] however, falls foul of him; but then, the only good words he had were for Betterton and Barry. [Footnote 452: _Comparison between the two Stages._] _Ramble._ But prithee look on this side; there's Cibber, a poet and fine Actor. _Critick._ And one that's always repining at the success of others, and upon the stage makes all his fellow actors uneasy. Wilks, the best tragedian of the age, came of a good Worcestershire family, and, from his association with actors, drifted into the profession. He was remarkable for the carefulness of his acting, and for the ease and good breeding he displayed upon the stage. He died in 1732 at the age of 76. What do his contemporaries say of him? Downes says, 'Proper and Comely in Person, of Graceful Port, Mein and Air; void of Affectation; his Elevations and Cadences just, Congruent to Elocution.' The author of 'The Comparison between the two Stages' can say nothing ill-natured of him, and Steele[453] speaks highly of him. [Footnote 453: _Spectator_, 370.] _Ramble._ Ay, but Powell---- _Critick._ Is an idle fellow, that neither minds his business, nor lives quietly in any community-- is a fair criticism on that actor, who, had he been but as steady or painstaking, might have rivalled Wilks; but he was a drunken, dissipated dog, a careless study, with a bad memory; pursued by bailiffs, he sometimes walked with his sword drawn--once making an unfortunate 'officer' retreat to the other side of the road, where he called out, 'We don't want you _now_, Mr. Powel.' Died Dec. 14, 1715.