The Sun.
London, England, 1835-06-05 00:00:00

ROLLS COURT.-(THIS DAY.)

The Master of the Rolls took several causes to-day, none 6
which were of public interest.

VICE-CHANCERY.-(THIS DAY.)

LEWIS V. LANGDON.

Sir Wm. HORNE this morning applied to his Honour in this
case, the short facts of which we gave a few days ago, entreat-
ing him to pen the order he intended to make as speedily as
possible, as the parties on the other side had,.since the case
was heard, issued circulars which were highly injurious to his
client, inasmuch as they stated they were the only manufac-
turers of " Brookman and Langdon's Pencils," and that all
purchasers of the articles manufactured by his client purchased
them at the risk of infringing the injunction, and would be
answerable for the consequences.
His HONOUR said that he would give the subject his attention.

LITERATURE.

THE LIFE OF EDMUND KEAN.
In 2 Vols. London : Edwaid Moron, 1835.

Mr. Proctor, better known as Barry Cornwall, is
the author of this piece of biography. It is worthy of
his genius ; and what is still more creditable to him, it
exhibits throughout kindly feelings and a charitable in-
terpretation of doubtful motives. Although we con-
sider his estimate of Kean's powers, as an original
actor, as much too low, yet his character of the man
is at once correct, delicate, and impartial. The author,
at the outset, eschews the invidious task of feigning
to weep over the faults of his hero. "In regard to
Kean's private character," says his gentle biographer,
in the introduction, " we have left it to speak for it-
self. We are not censors of his morals. *
Above all, we will not weary ourselves (nor our
readers) with any fruitless lamentations, as to what
our tragedian might have been, had certain purer par-
ticles entered into his composition. His qualities,
good and bad as they were, formed the man. From
them sprang his genius, his vigour, his character. It
was probably the collision between the two, that struck
out those brilliant sparks which the world has so long
been accustomed to admire. Had he wanted some
quality which we deplore, he might have had another
less favourable to his genius." This is as true in
fact, as it is forcible ; and few, after reading it atten-
tively, will question the poet's qualifications to be-
come the biographer of the most justly celebrated tra-
gedian of modern times.
The work is interesting rather as a record of extra-
ordinary personal adventures, than as a chronicle of
green-room anecdote, critical observation, or play-
going gossip. The author never labours to prove his
hero a great man, from the notice taken of him by this
or that celebrated personage ; nor a great genius, by a
learned dissertation on the affinity between certain mo-
tions of the body, and emotions of the mind. He is
content to paint him as he appeared—to describe him
by the impression he made on the public. Of the
actor, as a private individual, after his first success-
ful appearance on the London boards, he relates
but little ; and yet we may have no cause to regret
our ignorance of what remains untold. The private
lives of actors furnish few incidents worthy of record,
and these are too often of a character by no means
calculated to raise them in the estimation of moral
disciplinarians. Barry Cornwall has wilfully kept
back nothing which could in any way whatever tend
to make us better acquainted with the real character
and disposition of Kean ; but the actor himself was
too fond of affecting mystery, to leave it in the power
of any person to follow him step by step in his progress
through life. The work, however, is highly interest-
ing. With the single exception of Cibber's " Apo-
logy," it is one of the most entertaining pieces of
histrionic biography we remember to have read.
" Galt's Lives of the Players" is a dull performance ;
and the several lives of Mrs. Siddons that have ap-
peared, are wanting in incident. Barry Cornwall is
sparing of his criticism ; but those which he gives are
stamped with the impress of a sound discriminating
judgment.
The early part of Kean's history thus commences :

" We cannot, as we have said, speak with certainty either
as to his parentage or birth ; but, according to the best con-
clusions we are able to form, from the conflicting evidence be-
fore us, Edmund Kean was the son of one Edmund Kean, by
Anne Carey, and was born in the year 1787. Edmund Kean,
the supposed father, was in the employ of a Mr. Wilmot, the
builder, of the Royalty Theatre, and whilst occupied there,
became intimate with Miss Carey, at that time an actress. He
was, moreover, brother to Moses Kean, a man possessing con-
siderable fame as a general mimic, and who imitated Garrick
inimitably. Miss Carey herself was the daughter of George
Savile Carey, a person who (after acting, without much effect,
at Covent Garden, for a single season,) lectured on heads,
mimicry, &c., and drew upon that indefinite patrimony, his
wits,' for both reputation and support. He died in 1807.
Her grandfather, Henry Carey, was the author of Chronon-
hotonthologos, The Dragon of Wantley, and various operas and
interludes, now with the moths. He is also answerable for a
quantity of indifferent ballads (published under the title of
The Musical Century), in which he was both writer and
composer. This last named gentleman terminated his career
unhappily. He perished in his house in Cold Bath Fields, in
the year 1743, having strangled himself with a cord whilst in
a state of despondency. At the time of young Edmund Kean's
birth, his grandfather, George Savile Carey, resided in some
chambers in Gray's Inn, belonging to a Mr. Turner, who being
greatly in debt, and compelled to return the answer of non est
inuentus to all obliging inquiries, had lent his Chambers to
Carey. And thus ends our knowledge of the ancestors of
Edmund Kean."

Kean's misfortunes commenced with his birth. His
mother kept him for two years, and then, after pro-
testing that she would be no longer troubled with him,
committed him to the care of Miss Tidswell. After
this lady got tired of him he was transferred to his
father, who put him to nurse to a poor woman, through
whose neglect every joint in his body became distorted.
To cure the distortions the poor little fellow was under
the necessity of wearing irons, which he did constantly
until he was seven years of age. He was sent to
school, and some attempts were made to " whip the
elements of knowledge into him but he would learn
nothing. When about seven years of age he began to
act children's parts at Drury-Lane, after which his
mother again took him under her protection, in order
that he might assist her in hawking perfumery, and
also to pocket whatever sums he might obtain by his
acting. It was while wandering about with his mother
that he obtained the notice of Mrs. Clarke, to whose
kindness he was indebted for what little learning lie was
master of. The particulars of his introduction to this
lady are thus detailed :

' A thundering rap is heard at the door. The footman,
with an approximation to a grin on his face, enters and an-
nounces--' Master Carey, ma'am." Master Carey ?' was the
inquiry. ' Yes, ma'am; he comes from his mother, Miss
Carey, who brings the perfumery here to sell. He says he is
Master Carey.' Show him up by al! means.' Mrs. Clarke
stood. The door was thrown open, and a slim pale boy, of
about ten years old, enters—very poorly clad, ragged, NI; ith dirty
hands, face washed, delicate skin, brilliant eyes, superb head
of curled and matted hair, and a piece of a hat in his hand !
With the bow and air of a Prince, he delivers his message—
' My mother, madam, sends her duty, and begs you will be so
good as to lend her a shilling to take the spangled tiffany pet-
ticoat out of pawn, as she wants it to appear in at Richmond
to-morrow.' In answer to this petition, the lady put forth an
interrogation ; Arc you the little boy who can act so well ?'
A bow of assent, and a kindling cheek were the sole reply.
What can you act ?' The answer was—' Richard the Third,
Speed the Plough, Hamlet, and Harlequin.' I should like
very much to see you,' said the lady. I should be proud to
act to you,' was the return. Well, here's the money for your
mother,' said Mrs. Clarke ; but stay,' added she, throwing
open the door of the back drawing-room, where her husband sate
writing. He was a grave stout man, who had lat off going
to plays. She brought forward our hero—' This is little Ed-
mund Carey.' A low bow from Master Edmund Carey
finished the introduction. Mr. Clarke looked at him, and was
struck with his air, as well as with his delicate and expressive
features, and which, contrasted with the poverty of his clothes,
must have touched and interested even the commonest ob-
server. We do not know what commendation or good advice
was bestowed by Mr. Clarke ; but Mrs. Clarke and her young
friend parted, with a promise, on his part, that he would come
again at six o'clock that evening, and give a specimen of his
acting."

Kean's performance delighted Mrs. Clarke and her
friends. She accordingly invited him to her house,
and provided him with the means of acquiring the ru-
diments of a genteel education. He learned dancing,
fencing, horsemanship, and gave some attention to the
study of English literature. An affront offered to him
by a gentleman who casually visited Mrs. Clarke, was
the cause of his elopement from the house of his kind
protectress, which so incensed her husband, that Kean
was shortly afterwards quietly discarded. He rejoined
his mother, who was then a member of Richardson's
strolling company of players, at Windsor; and, after•
a variety of adventures, some of which are equal in
interest to any recorded in the pages of fiction, mar-
ried Chambers in 1808---then an amateur mem-
ber of Beverley's company at Gloucester. For the
six ensuing years, the life of the celebrated Kean is one
continued tale of squalid poverty and mental wretch-

edness. Many of the scenes are truly heart-rending'
Few generous minds will ponder on them without
tears. The journey of --Kean and his wife from Bir:
rningharn to Swansea---a distance of one hundred and
fifty miles performed on foot—the wife eight months
advanced in her pregnancy, and the husband with a
sum considerably less than one pound in his pocket
—is one of the most touching passages in the whole
work. Its great length alone prevents us from giving
it here.
At last, after six years tossing about,
Kean had the
good fortune to attract the notice of Dr. Drury, at
one time master of the Harrow school, by whom he
was introduced to one of the managers of Drury-lane
Theatre. He also became acquainted with Mr. Ar-
nold, the manager, who saw him act at Dorchester, and
approved of his performance. He sought an engage.
ment, and. was accepted ; but in consequence of a pre-
vious engagement entered into by his wife. ill his name'
with Mr. Elliston, of the Olympic, he was neither al-
lowed to appear at Drury-lane, nor did he touch Ore
than one week's salary for six months. The sufferings
of the great tragedian and his family during this long
advent are hardly conceivable. However, he bore ir
manfully against all distresses 'till the falling off in the
receipts at Drury-lane compelled the managers to hale
recourse to him. The particulars of his first appear-
ance in the character of Shylock, and the bran°
career which followed, are well known.
Kean's wonderful powers as an original actor are so
extensively known, and so generally appreciated, that
we shall be excused in omitting to dwell upon then
.tn
here. The judgment of nations have
his favour. His fame cannot be increased; and
critic who knows an atom of nature will attempt to "e-
-preciate it. gone forth '0

THE PERENNIAL.
Dorton. London : 1835.
A collection of Moral and Religious Pols
made with much skill and care, from the olco
of some of our most eminent living writers.
of
volume is professedly intended for the use do,
children, but there is no age that may not we
rive entertainment from it. Among the poems,
find many of the finest pieces of Wordsworth, SotithOti
James Montgomery of Sheffield, Mrs. Hemans' $ll
Miss 1.31,..:;. The book is a small duodecirio
richly bound in green silk.

GEMS OF LITERATURE.
There are many pleasing tales arid poems ill this,.
b e
volume, none of which, however, are original, tint 8.
The
selections from the works of living writers.
ss
longest poem in the collection is an extract from ALitir
Mitford's Musical Drama of " Chatelar," a • 13°PuOre
theme, which the Authoress has treated with in-ply
dexterity than feeling. The volume is handsomely
bound in cloth, and contains one tolerable engraving'
of two armed cavaliers, riding on two most ferocious
looking chargers.