It remains for me to say something of Webster and Deckar. For these two writers I do not know how to shew my regard and admiration sufficiently. Noble-minded Webster, gentle-hearted Deckar, how may I hope to ‘express ye unblam’d,’ and repay to your neglected _manes_ some part of the debt of gratitude I owe for proud and soothing recollections? I pass by the Appius and Virginia of the former, which is however a good, sensible, solid tragedy, cast in a frame-work of the most approved models, with little to blame or praise in it, except the affecting speech of Appius to Virginia just before he kills her; as well as Deckar’s Wonder of a Kingdom, his Jacomo Gentili, that truly ideal character of a magnificent patron, and Old Fortunatus and his Wishing-cap, which last has the idle garrulity of age, with the freshness and gaiety of youth still upon its cheek and in its heart. These go into the common catalogue, and are lost in the crowd; but Webster’s Vittoria Corombona I cannot so soon part with; and old honest Deckar’s Signior Orlando Friscobaldo I shall never forget! I became only of late acquainted with this last-mentioned worthy character; but the bargain between us is, I trust, for life. We sometimes regret that we had not sooner met with characters like these, that seem to raise, revive, and give a new zest to our being. Vain the complaint! We should never have known their value, if we had not known them always: they are old, very old acquaintance, or we should not recognise them at first sight. We only find in books what is already written within ‘the red-leaved tables of our hearts.’ The pregnant materials are there; ‘the pangs, the internal pangs are ready; and poor humanity’s afflicted will struggling in vain with ruthless destiny.’ But the reading of fine poetry may indeed open the bleeding wounds, or pour balm and consolation into them, or sometimes even close them up for ever! Let any one who has never known cruel disappointment, nor comfortable hopes, read the first scene between Orlando and Hippolito, in Deckar’s play of the Honest Whore, and he will see nothing in it. But I think few persons will be entirely proof against such passages as some of the following. ‘_Enter_ Orlando Friscobaldo. _Omnes._ Signior Friscobaldo. _Hipolito._ Friscobaldo, oh! pray call him, and leave me; we two have business. _Carolo._ Ho, Signior! Signior Friscobaldo, the Lord Hipolito. [_Exeunt._ _Orlando._ My noble Lord! the Lord Hipolito! The Duke’s son! his brave daughter’s brave husband! How does your honour’d Lordship? Does your nobility remember so poor a gentleman as Signior Orlando Friscobaldo? old mad Orlando?