MISS CHESTER. "Her form Look'd more adapted to be put to bed, Being somewhat large, and languishing and lazy, Stole on your spirits, like a May day breaking; BYRON. Beauty, or personal attraction, in this country at least, leads females to the height of fortune, whilst it leaves the other sex completely in the lurch. A handsome man gains nothing by the bounty of nature, whilst handsome women are raised from the dregs of poverty to the summit of riches. Since the days of Catherine it would seem that the exterior of the male sex had deteriorated in value, whilst the attractions of woman have lasted since the period when Eve tempted her partner, down to the present day. Miss Chester is indebted to her beautiful face and form for all the sweets that she has tasted in this life-for affluence off the stage, for importance and emolument on it. To very humble parents our heroine owes her existence, and she blessed the eyes of an honest, industrious pair in the neighbourhood of Windsor, in the early part of the year 1799. Her father was a market-gardener, and resided within a few miles of that town. Miss Chester passed her early days in indigence, “like a fair flower set in the rude soil of surrounding ignorance, and smiling 'mid the blast of poverty." But every day added fresh charms to her person, and at the age of fifteen she was the lowly beauty of Windsor. Every town has its visitation from the children of the drama, and no village but at some time or other receives some wandering perpetrators of tragedy and comedy. Windsor, though now of no dramatic importance, was some years since a profitable speculation, and for a few weeks a company annually performed there. Lying so near London, it was in the days of King George the Fourth a favourite lounge for stars from the metropolis, and Windsor saw as much good acting, or perhaps more, than any provincial town in the kingdom. And even when the days of its glory were past, a respectable company always performed there; for the inhabitants, used to excellent acting, could not endure mummery. Mr. Penley's company visited the town during the years that Miss Chester was expanding in charms and person, and just at that period when her mind was most apt to receive impressions, the stage lamps, the stage dresses, and all the glittering et ceteras, produced their usual effect. "Who is't remembers not the happy night, When first the gay procession met his sight? When first his eyes were filled with pleasant tears, Gave joy to terrors, and a balm to grief. Who can forget that night, when his young mind Our heroine felt the influence of the drama (a kind of minor moon that makes men mad) to its full extent; but as no probability presented itself of her attaining the boards, she secretly harboured the passion. About that time (we here speak merely from rumour) Mr. Calcraft saw Miss Chester. He was struck with her beauty, and the simplicity and elegance of her manners, and it is said immediately made arrangements to obviate the want of early education; and as our heroine possessed an acute mind and a docile disposition, her improvement was rapid. Miss Chester was twenty years old when she first entered a metropolitan theatre, which she had no sooner done than her former bias returned with double ardour. There were no difficulties to retard her. She was instantly introduced to Mr. Elliston, with all her imperfections on her head. He gave the usual answer, "Great capabilities-want practice-go into the country-get an instructor," &c., with the attendant compliments served up to amateurs from the days of Cibber and Wilks to those of Elliston and Kemble. Miss Chester was immediately put under the instructions of Chapman, of Covent-Garden Theatre-a gentleman perfectly conversant with stage business, a good speaker, and a sound judge of acting; one who had seen all the best artists of his day, and was therefore well fitted for a guide to a juvenile aspirant. Mr. Chapman's lovely pupil studiously practised her art, and was very shortly cheered with the intelligence that she might appear when she chose at Drury. She delayed this for a few months, but at length (3d of July, 1820,) trod those boards as Portia. She then enacted the gentle Desdemona, and was then for some time "shelved." Her friends were now persuaded that comedy was her forte, not bearing in mind that a man's failing in Richard is no proof that he will succeed in Jerry Sneak. But, however, comedy Miss Chester sat down to study, and, on the 16th of the following January, appeared as Lady Teazle. We extract the critique of the "Theatrical Inquisitor" upon that per formance : "The most striking novelty is the appearance of Miss Chester in Lady Teazle; a part to which the rare beauty of her person communicates an irresistible charm, height ened as that beauty is by the buoyancy of her spirits and the elegance of her demeanor. Since Thalia has been so propitious to this lovely follower, we advise a strict deference to her dictates, convinced that practice in the captivating line of characters Miss Chester has now assumed will qualify her to rank with the brightest ornaments by which the stage has ever been embellished." Miss Chester now discovered that the kindness of an audience must not be construed into unequivocal success, and that studying two or three first-rate parts is not a sufficient qualification for a leading actress. Miss Chester, even supposing the town would have endured her, could not have sustained a line of comedy at Drury, from the mere fact of not having studied above one or two characters. By the advice of her friends, though sorely against her own judgment, she consented to go to York to play comedy, and nothing but comedy, and Mr. Down escorted the lady from London to York; in which circuit she sustained a large round of characters with very flattering success. She played some sentimental comedy, and a few parts in tragedy also, we are told, with applause. Mr. C. Kemble saw her at York, and an arrangement was entered into, in consequence of which our heroine's services were transferred to Covent-Garden Theatre, where she appeared at the close of the year 1822. There, to the exclusion of better actresses, she sustained parts of the greatest importance, and there she remained some time. She was also engaged at the Haymarket, though her performances were not frequent. If we appear harsh in our subsequent strictures upon this lady, we beg our readers to call to mind that, in a pecuniary point of view, we cannot injure, and we know not why we should not do justice, to the poorer members of the profession, by exposing the quackery of the richer. When our heroine first came upon the stage, she was most insufferably affected-so much so, that we never saw her in a Green-room without having Chesterfield's axiom on the subject mounting to our lips; she was also-we cannot soften the word-vulgar. What shall be said, too, for a lady, who at a travellers' dinner, when helped by mistake to white sauce, took a leg of fowl up in her white fingers, and wiped the sauce off upon the table-cloth, close to the place of the next individual! We were Miss Chester's fellow travellers to York-we beheld this, and saw poor Down blush fifteen different shades during the operation. This, and her spouting quotations inside the coach, and subsequently on board the steam-packet, made her company peculiarly interesting. We repeat, that our observations can do Miss Chester no injury, and therefore we are the more inclined to remark that such a lady is not fitted for the representative of the dames of ton, the Lady Bell's, and Letitia's. Of the quackery of her tragic system we remember an odd instance, whilst she was at York. She was observed one night sobbing and moaning, and beating her breast, behind the scenes. One of the performers begged her to acquaint him with the cause of her grief. She motioned him to be gone, and cried and moaned more enthusiastically and vociferously than before. The actor, really alarmed, entreated her to retire to her room, on which she exclaimed, "Leave me, Mr. H—, I am working up my feelings for the next scene." This became a bye-word in the York circuit during her stay there. Let us now turn to our critical duties. It appears to us that dramatic criticism is either wholly misunderstood, or consigned to inefficient hands, in the present day. It is customary for most of our (soi-disant) critics to state their own opinion and conception of the part they criticise, and set that against the picture of the actor; thus putting their one hour's reading of Hamlet against an actor's study of, perhaps, five years. Is this reasonable? No. Then how much more unreasonable does it appear for one man to take upon himself to conceive all the characters in the range |