Fuseli esteemed the English character more highly than that of any other country, and was much pleased with their amusements. The theatre was a constant source of gratification, and his criticisms on plays and players were usually severe, but generally acute and just. Meeting Macklin at Johnson's table, he shewed such deep knowledge in the art in which that celebrated man was so successful, not only as a writer, but as an actor, that when Fuseli took his leave, Macklin exclaimed, "I could sit all night to discourse with that learned Theban." Of Miss O'Neill he always spoke favourably, and considered that her merits as an actress, however highly they were esteemed, had been undervalued rather than overrated. Of Mr. Betty, in 1822, he said, "If his face, on the whole, do not sanction a prophecy of unrivalled excellence, it does not exclude him from attaining eminence. Mrs. Pritchard was the allowed Lady Macbeth of her day, without one tragic feature, or one elegant limb. It is indeed a little provoking, that he who in Dublin inthralled the general female eye, when his golden locks inundated his neck,--he whose kerchief the _ladies_ at Bath of late cut out into a thousand amulets of love, should be less than the theatric sun of London;--but still 'Principibus placuisse _Feminis_ Non ultima laus est.'-- If I have murdered Horace's verse, I have improved the sense. As to former actors, the pupils of Betterton and Booth would probably have turned up their noses at Barry and Garrick--'But to praise the past,' has always been a characteristic of age." He was an admirer of Kean in some characters which he played, particularly in his Shylock. But he considered that this actor took too wide a range. In writing to a friend, he says, "I have seen Kean and Mrs. West in Orestes and Hermione, and desire to see _them_ no more. What could excite the public rapture at his first appearance in this part, I am at a loss to guess: if his figure is not absolutely irreconcileable with the character, his action and expression are balanced between the declamation of Talma, the ravings of a bedlamite, and sometimes the barking of a dog. Mrs. West is something of a slender Grecian figure, tall, not ungraceful, and a face something like Mrs. Madyn's: she was well dressed, and has a good voice, but no rule of it, and tore her part to tatters in one uninterrupted fit of raving." In the Italian opera, and in operas in general, he did not take much delight; for in music his ear was certainly imperfect; but notwithstanding this, some few simple airs affected him strongly. In speaking of music, he said, "All your complicated harmonies of Haydn and Beethoven are fine, I know; because they are esteemed to be so by the best judges; but I am ignorant, and they say nothing to me. They give to me no more pleasure than a fine anatomical foreshortened drawing by Michael Angelo would to an unpractised eye. But the song, 'How imperfect