The Sun.
London, England, 1827-10-05 00:00:00

THEATRES.

DRURY LANE,

Mr. Kean, jun. made his second appearance last
night, and satisfied his enemies without pleasing his
admirers. The first frequently chuckled with deri-
sive bitterness, while the others occasionally turned
away their heads from his attempts to be great :
.original or pathetic, he could not be. The
very sound of his voice acted as the screech
owl of his destiny. His performance was
decidedly better than on his first night, but he
wants the physical energies—the mental enthusiasm
indispensable to a tragic actor. He must forget that
he is or. the stage before he can identify
himself with his hero, and so complete the illusion
of the scene, by the natural personation of the cha-
racter, till the audience themselves believe that they
are listening to a reality, and witnessing the
true cause of their sympathy in the gifted
actor, who leads their feelings captive by the
natural representation of human passions. But.
these are foreign to Mr. Kean, jun., he wants feel- j
ing, without which all other attributes are nothing.—
Sensibility to an actor is the key-stone of his fame—
if he possess it not, he falls unpitied, because unable
to awaken in the bosom of others a sentiment which
does not exist in his own. Mr. Kean may improve
considerably, because he has youth, and perhaps the
desire to excel, but if he want the one requisite to
which we have alluded, his labour will be thrown
away. The defects of his first performance we
attributed in a great measure to the novelty
of his situation, but his second exertion only con-
firms oar apprehensions. His delivery is discord-
ancy personified : bad he studied, like Demosthenes,
by the sea-shore, he could not more effectually
have made--
The hoarse rough verse grate on the sanded floor.
But his want of feeling is not all—he lacks judg-
ment, the defect, perhaps, of nature. When
thanking Randolph for his courtesy, be begins
at the pitch of his voice, and suddenly breaks down
when the sentiment required elevation of tone. But
we have done. He may emulate his father,
but before he can succeed he must study his
natural beauties, without making a. merit of
imitating his faults, till be even elicits some
applause from the Palpable hit. Mrs. West
would have done. Lady Randolph more justice
by being less pathetic. A lady who had lost
her husband full eighteen years, would have
sobered down her grief to some moderation, and not
shed tears at every whisper of the adored name.
Even grief must be natural to be affecting. Wallack's
Glenalvori was very good, and Cooper's Old Norval
judicious, making allowance for the excess of his
voice, which might do on the mountains, but was too
loud for an Octagenarian within the walls of a theatre.
An afterpiece called the " Illustrious Stranger," in
two acts, was produced, and passed off pretty well
for a subject which has been twice handled already,
under different appellations. The story is founded
on a ceremony in the East, compelling the husband
to be buried with 'his wife—an idea sufficiently
alarming to married people. Liston and Harley did
their best to keep the house in a roar. The Music
by Nathan was very sweet and pleasing, and the
scenery splendid.