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We now come to the last, though assuredly not the
least, of the comic trio, whose efforts, as much as
any thing else, have gained for the Park that high
character which it at present enjoys; for it is not
the half-dozen appearances of an eminent performer
that give an enduring reputation to a theatre, but
the combined and well-directed efforts of a fixed
company. There is a strange way of acquiring histrionic
fame in this land, by a curious process denominated
“starring,” which is carried into effect
somewhat in this manner: a man, after cogitating
upon the subject, becomes impregnated with a high
opinion of his own very moderate abilities, and determines
forthwith to enlarge his sphere of action;
he packs up his baggage and goes forth, scouring
over the country in all directions, and becoming at
intervals visible, for a few nights, first at one city
and then at another; this continues for some time,
when the gentleman returns, invested with all the

[figure description] Page 180.[end figure description]

privileges and immunities of a star, and impudently
“lords it o'er his betters,” though by what claim of
metaphysical reasoning a man becomes more ably
qualified to play Shakspeare or Sheridan by travelling
a few hundred miles in a steamboat, is not exactly
apparent. But so it is, and these luminaries
at present abound. Stars, forsooth! (the use of
this slang term is very disagreeable, but there is no
helping it;) why nine-tenths of them are no better
than tallow candles—rush-lights—who emit a
feeble, twinkling ray, till they come in contact with
some slight change in the breath of public favor,
when they disappear on the instant, and nothing but
smoke remains. They ought to be snuffed out by
the dozen.

We have wandered away from the subject more
immediately in hand, being filled with virtuous
indignation against those theatrical pedlers, in whose
behalf a great portion of the public sneer at their
more modest and stationary brethren;—as if locomotion
were a virtue and a change of intellect was
the consequence of a change of air.—Mr. Hilson is
no star, and the New-York people ought to be
thankful for it; or what would they have done for
their Nipperkins, Numpos, Figaros, Paul Prys, Drs.
Ollapod and Pangloss, and a whole host of worthies
that nobody else can play; together with a

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hundred parts that might be mentioned in which he is
unrivalled!—Hilson's humor is not of the sly, quiet,
and unconscious kind, like Placide's—nor of the
broad and familiar, like Barnes'—it is of a more bustling
and vivacious quality, and in parts full of gaiety
and motion, shifts and stratagems—such as intriguing
footmen or lying valets—he is in his element.
No man has a finer or quicker eye for the
ridiculous: there are a number of things which
take place in the business of the scene that do not
admit of previous study, and Hilson sees in a moment
where a look or motion will add effect to an
accident, or heighten the absurdity of a situation.
This is of great advantage to him at all times, but
more particularly in characters of a burlesque description,
such as Bombastes Furioso and Abrahamides,
which he performs to admiration.

But there is another ground on which Mr. Hilson
may be taken, and on which he possesses an
immense advantage over his two comic brethren,
Barnes and Placide, namely, in the exhibition of
strong deep feeling, and rough violent passions; and
this is, perhaps, his most perfect line, being altogether
free from the follies before noticed. What effect
he gives to the dead-weight character of Rolamo in
Clari! and in stern, blunt and unfortunate veterans,
of every description, he has the field all to himself

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—there is no competitor to contend with him. Who
is there that has seen his Robert Tyke, and forgotten
it? Unfortunately we never beheld the late
John Emery in this, his favorite part, though we
have Rayner, his successor at Covent Garden, and
a number of others, but not one of them is to be
compared with Hilson. This character is, perhaps,
the best of Morton's crude conceptions. Tyke is
a malefactor and a low and reckless vagabond,
though still with some remnants of better feeling
hanging about him; and, when his remorse is
awakened by circumstances, it requires a person of
no common mind to depict the passions and sufferings
of the uneducated villain.—There are plenty
who appear in it that can display a superabundance
of bodily exertion, and do very well if you will accept
gesticulation for feeling—that can rant and
foam at the mouth—that can look like ruffians, act
like ruffians, and gabble bad Yorkshire;—but all
that is not playing Tyke. Very little is hazarded
in saying, that, in the United States, there is but one
man who can do justice to Robert Tyke, and that
man is Thomas Hilson.

p091-438

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