The Sun.
London, England, 1838-01-09 00:00:00

MR O'CONNELL.

MEETING TO COMPLETE THE BUILDING OF
ST. ANDREW'S CATHOLIC CHURCH WEST-
LAND ROW.

Three o'clock, P.M., Sunday, Jan. 7, 1838.
A meeting to complete the building of St. Andrew's Ca-
tholic Church, Midland-row, has just now concluded. Mr.
O'Connell, who is a parishioner of this parish attended, and
was, of course, the chief attraction of the meeting. His
presence, on the occasion was the mere hailed, in consequence
of the Hon. Gentleman having been confined for the last eight
or ten days by a severe cold. The Very Rev. Dr. Me) ler,
P. P., presided, and as soon as the Secretary, the Rev. Mr.
Ennis read a statement to the effect that since the building
had commenced, April 1832, not six years ago, the sum of
upwards of 17,000!. had been raised by subscriptions of the
parishioners. They were only in debt the cypher of 70/. odd,
and they required about 1,200!. more to bring the edifice to a
complete conclusion—as soon, I repeat, as this statement was
made, Mr. O'Connell rose to propose a vote of thanks to those
disinterested men who at a sacrifice of their time, made weekly
subscriptions. Mr. O'Connell dwelt upon the effect of the
voluntary principle at great length—the mutual attachment
and fidelity of the Catholic clergy and Catholic people—how
they came out of a persecution of three centuries more
faithful and more numerous than they entered into it.
Among the entire, he said, of the Irish Bishops, only two
of them during this period had been faithless, and one of them
was an Englishman. There was one thing necessary to the
perfect completion of the church in his (Mr. O'Connell's)
opinion, and that was a steeple.—(Cheers.) He himself
would become the collector for that steeple. The nature of
the building would admit of a square tower being erected on
its top, and from this tower a spire should ascend which would
point out to every mariner, as he entered the bay, a certain
and safe landmark.—( Cheers.) He hoped that the steeple
would be erected by the time his excellent friend, Mr. John
Power, was Lord Mayor. He would be rejoiced to see three-
fourths of the Corporation coming they, to that church, and
coming, Sir, (said Mr. O'Connell, addressing the very Rev.
Chairman) to hear your mass.—( A ►augh.) Mr. O'Connell
then said that he had been reading a Protestant author that
day, Sir Robert Atkins, who stated that before the Reforma-
tion there were 55,000 Churches in England, and 42,000 pri-
♦ate Chantrys (I think he called them), or Chapels of Ease.
This was the case when Catholic bounty, springing alone
from true devotion to Religion, was in operation. What, he
would ask, was the case now, when taxation for the purpose
existed? There were now but 11,000 churches in England.
It might not be fair to enumerate those only belonging to the
establishment. By a singular coincidence there were about
11,000 between dissenting and Catholic. So that in all there
were now but 22,000, and if he remarked that the population
had increased twofold, then the present population had only
22,000 churches, while half the population under the free
principle had 97,000 I He hoped this fact would go abroad.
He had achieved one great object. Formerly Catholics were
obliged to pay for Protestant churches. They are no longer
obliged to do so.—( Cheers.) He had effected that change
—(Hear, hear)—and he had reason to know—he was con-
vinced that this present session tithes upon his plan, would be
totally done away with—would follow Church-rates.—( Loud
cheers.) After the usual resolutions, arid an eloquent eulo-
'glum on Mr. O'Connell from the chair, the meeting broke up.
Mr. O'Connell had a large fur comfortable round his neck,
a sort of mitred cap on his head, and wore two heavy cloaks.
The Hon, gentleman spoke quite firmly and healthily, and
considering his late indisposition looked remarkably well.

---
We believe that there is no foundation for the report
which appeared in The Observer of Sunday last, and sr;
copied in this Journal yesterday, rela'ive to the institution or
a new order of kuightliood.—Morning Chronicle.

THE ROMANTIC AGE OF SPAlN.—Spain has
beau fortunate in her English historians. The prime of her
glory was pictured by Robertson in his " Charles the Fifth."
The commencement of her decline was described by Watson
and Thompson, in their " Philip the Second." Her decay awl
dotage were undertaken by Dunlop and Coxe. The youth
and manhood o that once powerful and chivalrous people have
faller, into the hands of an American, Mr. W. H. Prescott,
who is not unworthy of coping with Robertson in brilliant
c.nnposition, or in the more solid qualities of an historian.
The reign of Ferdinand and Isabella of Castile, which forms
the subject of Mr. Prescott's history, is not only singular and
interesting in itself, but important as a crisis in the affairs
of Europe. Under this reign, Spain was, for the first time,
combined into one monarchy through the nuptial union of the
crowns of Aragon and Castile ; the conquest so renowned in
song of the moorish kingdom of Granada, and the reduction
by war and policy of the kingdom of Navarre. The events
and characters of the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, in ad-
dition to their greatness, have attractions also of a very va-
ried nature.. This very important and interesting subject has
been undertaken by a man well qualified t,.) do it jus.ice.
Prescott possesses considerable powers, improved by study,
and a mind well stored by reading, research, and meditation
upon the particular period to which he Las devoted himself.
Spectator.

ELOPEMENT AND HORSE-STEALING.-At the
Essex Quarter Session, which commenced on Tuesday, a
fellow named Jay was sentenced to fifteen years' transportation
for horse-stealing. The Chairman said it was a very great
offence, inasmuch es the prisoner had on the Sunday night
not only stolen the prosecutor's horse, cart, and harnevs, but
bad absolutely taken away another man's wife. For wh.A
other purpose, said the learned Chairman, than to avoid a
prosecution, could you be going to America ? Pri,oner—
"To see my father in-law, who lives there." Most of the
witnesses in this case had travelled a distance of 90 miles
from their homes to attend the trial. Day, the husband of
the young woman, we understand, is very respectably con-
nected.

We hear that it is in contemplation to build en hotel
at the West-end, on the most gigantic scale ;it will be so
arranged as to be capable of dining 1,200 persons. It is in-
tended to resemble Meurice's, both as regards the building
and the management. Attached to the hotel will be extensive
gardens, with fountains and jets d'eau for the convenience and
pleasure of the frequenters thereof. Carriages will be kept in
constant readiness to run to and fro to the terminus of the great
railways. The building will be erected by a company having
a capital of 100,0001.

We have been favoured by a spring-knife manufac-
turer with the sight of the most splendid knife it has been our
fortune to see. The description of it is as follows :—A tor-
toise-shell knife, containing pen and pocket blade, pair of scis-
nail file, wood and bow saw, horse picker,
sgai rms
1,
ebt button-hook, odn - h oo k,
needle
in the horse picker, double-jointed corkscrew
and punch, lancet, picker, and tweezers: every article closing
and falling completely flush with the handle. y The knife had
the most elegant appearance when all were shut, as nothing
was then to be seen but tortoise shell and gold ; the backs of
every article, except those under the horse picker and under
the miles, were covered with the fittest gold. The filing of
the bolsters was beautifully fine ; altogether it bed a most
splendid appearance. The workman was nearly four weeks in
making it. The knife contains about 101. worth of fine gold,
and the workmanship is considered by competent judges to be
perfect.—Shtjfield Paper.

A wager was made that, at a recent meeting of the
Town Council, a newly-elected Legal Member, in the Con
servative interest, would address the House a score times—aq
account was accordingly kept, by which it appeared that the
Gentleman in question delivered his sentiments upon different
subjects thirty-six times.—Bristol Mercury.

DitURY.LANE THEATRE.

Perseverance in mast pursuits itt life is 6-taiti of its re
ward. It pill not niake Ere I'3 'believe
nor will it give genius to an actor ; but that
it will improve both, no ens can deny. The first publica-
tion of Byron certainly shored little sigas of goniu3 ; his
versification and poetical genius were not better than thosr
of hundreds of schoolboys whose rhyavrs die before
they leave school ; and had he given way, and submitted
to the scoffings of the great oracle of the day in the art
of criticism, the world would have lost much, and Ilk
would never have attained the great object of his ambition,
—tl:e honour of being the first poet of the ago. Comparing
great men With small, like the poets, we are justified from
what we witnessed last evening in applying the same re-
marks to Mr. Kean. Few men can claim more merit for
perseverance even under the most disheartt:ning circum-
stances. About eleven years ago he first attracted the no-
tice of a Londoa audience, more from the enthusiasm which
they had fur his father's name than from any symptoms
of genius, or any hope that he would overcome the many
and great defects with which his acting abounded. The
public voice and the press decided unequivocally against
him, and he retired to the country disappointed, but not
disheartened. He made a second appearance five years
ago, improved certainly, but still deficient in the qua'ities
which would entitle him to hold more than a respectable
rank among tra;edians. He then undertook another
five years' apprenticeship, and having gained golden

opinions at Edinburgh, Liverpool, and Dublin, he
ventured last evening for a third time to challenge the
judgment of a London audience. All wished him success.
The recollection of his father's acting—the large sums to
which, but for indiscriminate generosity or something

worse, he might have been heir—his moral character and
his unconquerable perseverance, enlisted many on his side ;
and the consequence was a reception as full, hearty, and
unequivocal as any that ever welcomed an actor.
During the first two acts, we believe his warmest admirers
trembled for the issue. There were traces of his original
defects, and the solemn, plaintive, and almost subdued air
and voice with which he delineated " that within which
passeth show," did not bespeak the fearless and revengeful
Hamlet. The manner in which he recited the celebrated pas-
sages, " Oh that this too, too solid flesh would melt,"
and " To be, or not to be," raised better hopes ; but still
there was wanting that dignified expression, and that
chastened eloquence, by which Kemble and Young
carried with them an admiring audience. If he was 'defi-
cient there, he equalled, perhaps surpassed them, in more
trying scenes. The performance of the third act left
no doubt that he has many of the qualities of a great ac-
tor. His directions to the players were given with much
judgment and taste, and met with due applause ;
but the first decided impression which he made, was
in the animated scene where Hamlet comments on
the play, and tells the King " 'tis a knavish piece of
work—but what of that ? Your Majesty and we
that have free souls—it touches not us I Let the galled
jade wincc,our withers are unwrung,"and brings the murder
home to the guilty breast, and drives the King and Queen,
overwhelmed with shame and despair, from his presence.
The greater part of the chamber scene with the Queen
evinced high powers of acting, and particularly that part
when, overcome with ungovernable sorrow for his father's
death, and hatred for his murderer, he forgetshia own safety,
and in holding before her the glass—to see the inmost
part of her mind—he forces her to call for help. Perhaps
the least effective part of this scene was the description of
the two pictures ; but the act throughout was performed
with consummate skill and stirring energy—the acting
was natural. It showed no traces of mannerism, or theatri-
cal preparation, and the audience bore willing testimony
to its merits. On the whole we may safely pronounce
that his success was triumphant. He has still many
defects. His voice is often husky. He is at times too rapid
in his pronunciation, and at others too slow, approaching
almost to langour. He has not a little of the mannerism
of Macready, and resembles his father in some of his de-
fects, but he resembles him also in the energy and fire of
his acting. His person is good, and his attitude and man-
ner chaste and graceful. He holds out the fairest pro-
mis of success. We give the opinions of most of our
contemporaries, in order that the public may judge of that
" Press.' which Mr. Kean declares is hostile to him.

(From the Morning Chronicle.)

Charles Kean made a very triumphant re-entry into the metropolis
last night in the character of Hamlet. If we are not mistaken, this is
in fact the third time he has made his essay before a London audience,
but it is but just to consider it his debut, his previous efforts having been
rather boyish though promising attempts than mature exhibitions of his
rowers and qualifications. We shall therefore feel justified in treating
it as a species of first appearance, and looking at it in this light, we feel
no hesitation in pronouncing it a very fine, and perhaps, on the whole,
a first-rate performance. We give this opinion after a most attentive
watching of the undertaking from the earliest to the latest scene, and
throughout with a sincere desire to give the actor every possible credit
for ability of the highest order. At the same time we do not think that
we permitted this desire to run away with our judgment, so that we be-
lieve we have arrived at- a fair estimate of his talents. We happen to
have seen every Hamlet on the London boards from John Kemble down-
wards, and we own that he is the only actor that ever came up to our
idea of the title mcdc in which the part ought to be represented. If we
were to give the characteristics of the different Hamlets for the last 30
years, we should say that John Kemble was princelike and intellectual ;
Holman, dignified but cold; Cooke, coarse but clever; Ekiston, pas-
sionate but careless; Rae, judicious but formal ; Young, powerful bnt
hasty; Kean, spirited but patchy; Macready, original and vigorous;
Butler, studied and sombre; and Charles Kemble highly wrought, but
artificial. From the first production of Hamlet, it is probable, there
have been but live actors of the hero who could be placed in the very
foremost rank, or one for about every fifty years ; viz., Burbage, Bet_
terton, Garrick, Henderson, and John limbic. Of course we except
living performers from our enumeration, as their places are yet to be
finally dnterminel

Every corner of the theatre was filled last night before the rising of
the curtain, and when Charles Kean came forward in the second scene
he was greeted by huzzas, bravos, and congratulotory demonstrations of
every kind, including the waving of hats and handkerchiefs, while the
pit rose to welcome him. He made what return he could by repeated
bows to all parts of the house, and obviously was somewhat disconcerted
by the fervour of his friends : indeed, we think it was more than was
judicious, whether we regard the effect on the general temper of the
audience or the actor. Afterwards, especially in 'the two last acts, the
applause was considerably moderated ; but it is to be recollected that
they contain few points to be made by the principal tragedian,
and that all the best portion of the character of the hero,
either as regards writing or acting, is coatalned in the three
first divisions of the tragedy. On this account the policy of
choosing Hardet for a first appearance may be doubted. One of
Charles Bean's reasons doubtless was, that he might avoid the charge
of imitating his father, as we are assured that he never saw him in
the part; but the likeness is innate and inevitable, and all who re-
memaer Edmund Kean, even though they had never been present at
his Eamb t, would feel sure that he and his son must deliver certain pas-
sages very much with the same manner and intonation. The resemblan c,
alo, in face and figure is remarkable, and as far as respects features
that resemblance is much stronger now than five or six years ago. In
point of external form the son has the advantage, both in height and
symm try; but on the whole, nobody can hesitate an instant as to the
near relationship of the two. The voice also corresponds now mare
than it did when Charles Kean was last in the metropolis ; it has ac-
quired some portion of the father's huskiness, but it is not deficient in
melody, particularly when a melancholy impression is to be conveyed
by it, and the consequence is that Charles Kean is too apt to deviate
into this tone, when in fact the occasion does not seem to require it.
We cannot help thinking that last night is • hardly to be taken
as a fair specimen of his voice, because he seemed to be suffer-
ing from a co'd, and was more r.asal in his delivery of seve-
ral parts of the play than, we apprehend, is natural to him. Towards
the close Le might be said to be absolutely hoarse, at least such seas our
!intim and that of persons who sat near us. His enunciation is some.
what too slow and measured, and even in the lighter portions of the
tragedy—such, for instance, as the scene wiih the players, with the
grave-digger, and with Osrick—he was elaborately emphatic. To over
emphasise (if we may use the word) is in our view objectionable, two
we by no means agree with those who think that every syllable ought
to be uttered with its peculiar force. It is painful to our ear when an
actor finishes too highly in this way. Same passages ought to be de-
livered evenly and smoothly, and the measure and music of the lines is
injured by a too obvious attempt en the part of the actor to show, not
only that he understands the full weight and value of every word given
by the author, but that he sees meanings which people have not before
discovered. Some meanings are so clear, that it is a sort of offence to
the understanding of the auditor to illustrate them with especial pains-
taking in the utterance.
There is one particular, though a trifle, in which Charles Kean dif-
fers from his father, and perhaps from every Hamlet yet seen on the
stage. He never thought of turning his stocking down to prove the
carelessness of Hamlet as to his personal appearance, after he is sup-
posed to be deranged. We own we like this innovation, for we always
thought the contrary practice absurd, especially when, as we have seen
some Hamlets, the stocking was so formally rolled over the calf of the
leg as to afffird proof that a great deal of trouble had been taken with
the arrangement. If the performer of Hamlet cannot sufficiently show
he is mad without this aid, we are sorry :or him, Nevertheless, we
have litheclosest that Betterton appeared ungartered, and very like he
had it from tradition before the Restoration.
As to the new readings of the part, at this time of day they are
nearly out of the question, and we own that we do not like tortuous
experiments of the kind, however ingenious. Some. of the old read-
ings, those of established usage, are ha I enough, and we should ho—e
bean glad to see Charles Kean dare to be original enough to avoid them.
We will give an instance. In the soliloquy at the end of Act 11. oc-
curs this passage supposed to be addressed to the King, who of course
is not on the stage—

" Bloody, bawdy villain !
Remorseless, treacherous, 1. cherous, kindless villain."
Here the word " kindless" has no sort of reference to the kindliness or
the want of kindliness in the King, but the meaning relates to his in-
humanity, etymologically speaking: he is " kindless," because he is
unlike his kind or species, in consequence of the enormousness and,
blackness of his vices; but the interpretation usually given to the word
by actors gives them such' a fine opportunity for a transition that they
cannot resist it, and it was too much for Charles Kean as well as for
others. If we recollect rightly, this was not one of John Kernifif6
readings, but was induced by Young. Charles Kean is prone to the
contrasts for which his father was remarkable; but still' they are not so
violent, and in his Hamlet there is more of sustainA and pervading ex-
cellenee—more entireness and completeness, for it is quite evident that

he has given the part most patient and diligent study. He was gui tf i
of one novety, fdr Such it struck us to be; in his first soliloquy. In I
the lines—
'';
dr ibthe iii'vtl64lr4 flail d iia4d
is canon Igainst self-flaughlCT!--04) 0.1.61 i

How weary, stale, flat, a::d unprofitable," ke.
made the ejatNeation " Qod, 0 God ;" belong to the first part of the
nassage, and not to the last line, intorduciug a pause. We [hi,* he was
right, or, at all events, there is nothing very wrong in this change, and
it gave him an opportunity for a transition dropping from a tone of pas-
si,n, at the top of his ♦oice, to a more conversational pitch. NVc may
also with great justice praise the delivery of the principal soliloquy, and
,he expression he gave to the words " from whose bourn no traveller
returns." He did not, like a modern actor, appear to be pricking a hole
with a pin when he talked of a man making his" quietus with a bare
bodkin ;" and we give him credit for adhering to the meaning of the
,met. If we were to name the weakest scene of the tragedy in the hands
of Charles Kean we should point out the directions to the players, which
we have heard much better given by far inferior actors ; ha plactql
in the middle of the stage, the player at one corner, and then harangtied
him in a sort of 5..-t spoech or lecture, instead of filing the Instructions
in en easy, quiet, taut impressive manner. The closet scene fntiltl ttot
perhips be Unproved, especially on the appearance of the Ghost, when
actor's. whole soul seemed absorbed by its preternatural presence.
This reminds us that we ought to mention, that in what may be called
Hamlet's first interview with his father's spirit, though it is in fact
divided into two sconce, Charles Kean dropped on his knees twice, first
at the wards—

" I'll call thee Hamlet--.
King, father, Royal Dane!"
which we do not disapprove, if he did not too deliberately take off his
hat; and next, as the Ghost is retiring, rising at the words—
" And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
But bear me stiffly up,"
which had rather an odd effect, and we think had better be avoided.
However, we must not enter farther into detail. The fencing match,
in the last scene was well conducted both by Charles Kean and King,
who played Laertes ; it was a very graceful exhibition, but too long,
and the death of Hamlet was also unnecessarily protracted, we think,
to the injury of the effect of the catastrophe. In a smaller theatre the
impression might be different, but not one-third of the audience last
night could discern the dying contortions of the actor, even supposing
it desirable that those contortions should be exhibited.
After the curtain had fallen, Charles Kean received what the French,
in whom the practice originated, call l'honneur du rappel : he came
forward and bowed repeatedly ; but some people seemed foolishly to
fancy that he ought to make a speech. Hats and handkerchiefs were
again waved in all parts of the house; and, as far as applause and one
night's trial goes, the actor has nothing to complain of. How many
times he may be called upon to repeat the part of Hamlet we cannot
guess; but Henderson_used to say, seventy years ago, that there were
at lea t thirty audiences in ,London : if there were thirty audiences
then, there ought to be fifty now. Nevertheless, Henderson, in his
first season at the Haymarket, only played Hamlet, if our memories
serve us, nine nights. Whenever it is necessary to resort to them,
Charles Kean has plenty of other parts for the gratification of the town
—Richard, Othello, Lear, &c., without travelling beyond Shakspeare.