Litchfield enquirer., 1851-02-20
A Touching Incident.

1 l went one night to see comedy.-- The chief actor vas a favorite one, and the theatre was very much crowded The curtain drew up. and amid a burst of applause the hero of the piece made his appearance. He had hardly uttered twenty words when it struck me that something strange was the matter with him. The play was a boistsrous come ly of the old school, and required con> siderable spirit and vivacity in the actors to sustain it properly but in this man there was none he walked and talked like person in dream his best points he passed over without appearing to perceive them, and altogether he was quite unequal to his part. His smile was 1 ghastly, his laugh hollow end unnatural. and frequently he would stop suddenly in his speech, and let hiseye wander ya- cantly over the audience. '9-' Eveu when in his character of silly husband, he had to suffer himseifs to 6e kicked about the stage by khss< young rake of the comedy, and afterwards to behold that careless individual making love to his wife, and eating his supper while he was shut up in closet from whence he could not emerge; his con tortions of ludicrous wrath, which had never before failed to call down plenty of applause, were now such dismal at tempts to portray the passion, that misses were audible in various parts of the theatrc.s The audience were fairly out of temper; and several inquisi.:ve indi- | viduals were particular in their inquiries IS to the extent of the potations he had indulged in that evening. A storm o sibilation and abuse fell round the ears o the devoted actor: and not content with 1 verbal insult, orange peel and apples flew upon the stage.
 ! He stopped and turned to the shouting crowd. 1 never saw such misery on human countenance. His face was worn 1 and haggard, and large tears rolled down over his painted cheeks. I saw his lips 1 quiyering with inward agony-rI saw his bosom heaving with consuIsions of sup< pressed emotion. and his whole mien betokened such depth of anguish and distress. that the most ruthless heart must have throbbed with pity. The audience was moved and by degrees the clamor of invective subsided into { solemn silence, while he stood near tho footlights, a picture of dejection. Wher all was calm, he spoke, and in voice broken with the sobs that seemed tt rend lis bosom proceeded to offer hl' explanations;
 Ladies and gentlemen" said he "though in my acting to night am con- scious of having merited your displea. sure, in one thing you do me wrong. am not intoxicated. Emotion alone, ant that of the most painful kind, has caused me to fill my allotted part so badly--my wife died but few short hours ago. anl left her side to fulfill my unavoidable engagement here. If Ihave not pleased you, l implore you to forgive me.
 loved her. grieved for her, and if miser. and anguish can excuse . fault, I bea my apology here" .l
 He placed his hand upon his heart and stopped, and burst of tears re- lieved his momentary paroxysm o grief.
 The audience were thoroughly affect. cd, and an honest burst of sympathy l made the walls trembls. Women wepI loudly, and strong men silently and during the remainder of the evening his performance was scarcely audible, thro the storm of applause by which the crowd sought to soothe the poor fellows wounded feelings. There was some. thing very melancholy in the thought ol that wretchcd mans coming from the bed of death to don gay attire, and ut ter studied witicisms for the amusement of . crowd, not one of whom dreamed of the anguish that lay fostering undol the paiuted cheek and the stage smile.- And in the great theatre of life, how many are there around us like that poor actor. smiling gaily at the multitude whilst at home lies sorrow, whose shad ow is ever present with them in bus. places.