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

memoir :

It seems that when he commenced these entertainments he had
great doubt of their success in the country, having previously made the
experiment with only a small portion of them, when he also acted in the
play or farce. Trotter, a manager of a country company, made him a
liberal offer for a few nights' engagement, and the first trial was to be
made at Gravesend. No performance had taken place in the theatre
fur two years, and orders were sent to an old woman, who had the care
of the house, to brush away the cobwebs and make it as decent as pos..
sible. When Mathews and his friend arrived they found it in.srvery
deplorable state, then only a very few hours before the opening of the
doors. The appearance of the house, his own doubts of success, and
the absence of his patron Trotter. made him completely miserable. The
time of opening arrived—the house was tolerably full—and the curtain
rose ;—but there was no applau,e—no laughter. Mathews was abso-
lutely wretched. To Mathews an applauding audience was every thing ;
he grew duller and duller every minute, so did the company, and so did
the lamps. Before half the first part was over, they began to go out
one by one; in this situation, he, by side speec',es white performing,
contrived to desire his friend, who stood at the side, to send out for some
candles. Off wtnt the old woman to the shop opposite, and quickly
returned with a pound of long tens, which the friend cut in half, and
stuck in tea-cups full of sand, borrowed from a neighbour; and front
under the stage, as each light popped out, up popped in a cup and a
lighted candle, and with it came a laugh from the audience, which
Mathews had scarcely been able to raise. As the curtain went down, so
did he on his knees—vowing he wou!d never appear before so insensible
a set. They retired to the Prince of Orange, and, after supper, sat till
near three o'clock over one glass of gin-and-water ; scarcely a word was
uttered by either of them, except now and then Mathews breaking forth
with half-sentenees--' Pleasant evening'—' delightful audience—' ex-
cellent judges'—' Bless come again'—' never'—` curse the lamps'
it won't. do'—` d—n your rush.lights'—` back to town to-morrow.'
However, by great persuasion, he played one more n'ght there, and,
strange to say, the house was crowded, and the applause so great, that he
went to the other theatres in the circuit as previously arranged, and was
very successful, which only shows that, in spite of bad lights and all the
rest of it, his merits told upon the judicious few, who went and told
their neighbours."
" The Man who always ate Stale Bread" is an inge-
nious story, told in a pleasant, unaffected manner. " Let-
ters from Ireland" is from the pcu of that clever, quick-
witted tourist John Carne. Ow: anecdote is worth re-
membering. " Irish hospitality," says the author, "is no
longer excessive, as it was same twenty or thirty years ago,
when a curious instance of its exercise occurred in the
neighbourhood of Mallow, where a gentleman came to visit
a friend at his country scat, to pass a few weeks, and
ac-
tually passed thirty-four years !" This was not so much a
visit, as a visitation! " Chig well Revisited," is a lively,
well-versified poem, not unworthy the author of the Re-
jected Addresses. " The Gips3's Fountain" is an agree-
able ballad, but there is too much about " flowers" in it.
We wonder vegetables are never introduced into modern
poesy, if only by way of novelty. Allusions to sage and
onions, or potatoes and pickled cabbage, would tell uncom-
monly well in a love song, or a poem entitled the " Broken
Licari," especially if it were set to music, and the singer,
made to shake upon the melodious substantive " onions!'
New-year's Day" is a cluster of punning paragraphs

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