The natural talents displayed by Mr. Cooper in most of his performances forbid it to be believed that his failures result from incompetency; or that there is any excellence, to which the actors of the present day attain, too great for his grasp, if his industry were nearly equal to his personal endowments. But the honest and zealous critic loses all patience, when he sees _first talents_ supinely contenting themselves with less than _first honours_. What are the natural or acquired endowments of Kemble or Cooke, whether mental or corporeal? Certainly not superior to those of Mr. Cooper. How do they respectively stand in the records of professional fame? It would be invidious to give the answer. If one could, with certainty, estimate a player’s actual performance from his untried talents, and were asked what disqualifying circumstance exists to prevent Mr. Cooper from playing Richard, Othello, Zanga or Hotspur as well as any man--we should answer none! But when, having seen him act, we come in the capacity of public critics to adjudge him his rights, we feel the mortifying necessity of speaking other language. In Othello and Zanga, the inequality of Mr. Cooper’s acting is strikingly conspicuous. Of the great distinction between the colloquial familiarity suitable to ordinary dialogue, and the solemn, dignified, and lofty delivery becoming the orator in a great public assembly, Mr. Cooper seems to have entirely lost sight in the celebrated speech to the senate, the first lines of which may serve as a lesson how the whole should be spoken. “Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very worthy and approved good masters.” The pompous sound of these words, as well as the awfulness of the place, and the august character of the assembly to which they are addressed, sufficiently indicate the manner in which they ought to be uttered. Instead of this Mr. Cooper (no doubt with the view to avoid pomposity and bombast) threw into them an air of familiarity like that of a person narrating a private transaction to an intimate friend or acquaintance: Yet no sooner does he come to the impassioned parts, where strong emotions call forth the manly energies, than he flames up with the character. In the third scene of the second act, he displays much force and dignity in the following lines: He that stirs next to carve for his own rage, Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion. Silence that dreadful bell, it frights the isle From her propriety. And afterwards: Now by heaven My blood begins my safer guides to rule; And passion, having my best judgment collied, Assays to lead the way: If I once stir Or do but lift this arm, the best of you Shall sink in my rebuke, &c. &c.