Tate is really a remarkable book, and for
perfect genuineness, and for power of expressing
the turns and workings of the human mind,
may be set beside Boswell. Even his
unconscious perversions of the truth are transparent,
and make the book more honest. It is a series
of pictures, and we see Foote and Garrick,
lords and ladies, London and Dublin. That
this unique book should not have been better
known is surprising ; but it has grown very
scarce.

This was the day of strolling companies.
England was divided into theatrical circuits,
which the country managers " went" regularly,
like the gentlemen of the law. Engaged by one
of these, Wilkinson, freed from Mr. Garrick's
tyranny, found his way to Portsmouth. His
picture of the place is full of drumming
and drilling, with the fleet lying out in
the roads, and " the gallant Rodney" on
shore. It was all drawbridges and lines,
and military gates and posts; where the visitor
was stopped and questioned. Officers of the
navy and army filled the streets. The little
theatre of the place was sure to have support
from such a constituency.

But the company was a strange and motley
one. A Mr. White was jeune premier, who
lisped, and pronounced Garrick " Gaa-ick;"
Moody, newly come from Jamaica; a stout Mrs.
Osborne; a Miss Kitty White, whose mamma
was the amusement of the profession for her
rambling talk and strange blunders. There
were crowded houses. The officers were glad
to know the droll Wilkinson, and even " the
gallant Rodney" was specially courteous to him.
One night, when he was playing Hamlet, and
Moody, as Gravedigger, was shovelling away,
up to his middle, the manager plucked him by
the sleeve, and whispered, hurriedly, " Take
care; for Mr. Garrick is in the pit!" We may
conceive the sensation behind the scenes; every
one thinking that the eye of " the London
manager" was on him or her. It was near
the end of the play; so Wilkinson could not well
make out the great actor in the pit, and went
home to supper and bed, thinking the whole
was a mistake. But next morning came a
message from the Fountain Tavern with Mr.
Garrick's compliments to Mr. Wilkinson; would
he come and breakfast with him? Surprised and
overjoyed, the actor hurried away, and was
greeted heartily at the Fountain Tavern by his
old manager. Nothing could have been more
charming or even engaging than Garrick's
behaviour. He was out, he told the other, on a
little holiday, staying with Doctor Garney, at
Wickham, some eight miles off — an old friend
to whom this visit had been promised for years.
Doctor Garney was a retired physician, who
had made his fortune, and was greatly respected
in that part of the country.

Mrs. Garrick was there also; and Mr. Garrick
said he had been charged by her and the doctor
to make Mr. Wilkinson fix his own day, and
come out to them. " A visit," added Mr. Garrick,
kindly, " which we shall all return." After
breakfast, they went out to walk and see the
town, the great Mr. Garrick leaning on Mr.
Wilkinson's arm — " an honour I dreamed not of."
They went on to the ramparts, saw the
dockyards, and all the time Mr. Garrick was asking
about his young friend's prospects, and how he
was doing, and congratulated him on being
such a favourite. Indeed, it needs not Mr.
Wilkinson to tell us that, " whenever Mr.
Garrick chose to throw off dignity and acting,
and was not surrounded by business to
perplex him, he had it in his power to render
himself a most pleasing, improving, and delightful
companion." It was in such good spirits that
he had a bottle of hock made into a cool tankard
for luck.

On the appointed day, Wilkinson drove out
in a post-chaise to Doctor Garney, dressed in
gold lace, like a gentleman. He was received
by Garrick, as he says, " like his son." The
doctor and his wife were " good " people, and
made him welcome. So did Mrs. Garrick. " She
was, in truth, a most elegant woman; grace was
in her step." Garrick showed him the place,
which was charming, " a little paradise," with
exquisite views, gardens, conservatories, and a
lofty observatory built by the doctor himself.
He " ran and skipped like a lad of twenty." He
delighted Wilkinson by complimenting him on
his dress, merely objecting to the buckles, which
were too large for the mode, and rather like a
sailor's. The actor's heart was rejoiced at being
treated " like a man of fashion" at dinner.
Garrick spoke of the benefit night, and said to
the doctor and his lady that he would take it
as an obligation to himself if they would give
their patronage to his friend, Mr. Wilkinson.
At ten o'clock, after a pleasant game on the
bowling-green, Mr. Garrick saw him out to his
chaise, gave him some parts to study, and said
he hoped there would be no impropriety in
bespeaking a play for Friday, July 27; " and we
desire, Wilkinson, you will fix on a favourite
character, and do your best for the credit of
both: and damn it, Tate, Mrs. Garrick expects
you will have a dish of tea ready after her jaunt,
by way of relaxation" (this was an allusion to
his Monologue): " and if you disappoint us,
Doctor and Mrs. Garney and all the party will
be very angry. So take care!" And thus
ended a very happy day for the young actor.

We may conceive the sensation Wilkinson's
news produced in the company. But Wilkinson
was not to have the lion's share, as he had
hoped. There was a sort of émeute, each actor
being eager to play his favourite and most
conspicuous part, so as to catch the eye of the
London manager.

Mr. White, the jeune premier, very dirty
and unshaven about his face, and fond of
morning gin, asked, with bitter contempt,
"Who is Mr. Gaa-ick? Mr. Gaa-ick has no
command over the Portsmouth company. I
think Mr. Gaa-ick cannot be displeased with my
Macheath, though I want no favour from Mr.
Gaa-ick."

All combined against Wilkinson's monopoly,