The organ of the temperance reform. (Cincinnati, O. [Ohio]) 1852-1853, 1852-09-03
THE TEAR-DR0P.

never pass an evening IN the green room
Of theatre without bringing away something
worthy Of being treasured, No matter what
character We act upon the stage, here at least
we lay down the role and appear in our own
proper characters. 1t seems as if there were
some necessity imposed upon us, when behind
the scenes to throw off all disguise, and ex-
hibit the true lights and shades of what we
are and have been. Not long ago | heard
a little story in the green-roOm OF theatre in
Paris, which may possess some interest for
readers beyond the circle who knew and ap-
preeiated the narrator.
The conversation shared by authors, actors
andeditors had taken metaphysical tRrn, and
some one was trying to prove that our charac-
ter and destiny were controlled entirely by
our original constitution, and that it was
therefore impossible for US to change.
mo man, said he, ''ean ever be cured Of
his vices or his evil passions. Whoever heard
Of amiser made generousH
81 have," said deep voice at my side, 81
aus living witness to the reality OF q change
yohhase pronounced mpOssible-lAwas once
miser ~
| We all turned towards the speaker; | recog-
nized him at once as one of the most success
| full dramatic writers of the day, and one
whose liberality was the theme Of every
tongue.
"And who performed this miracle?" inquir-
ed the first speaker.
"Who A tear shed by q child" Here
our attention increased, and we Simultaneous
| ly drew around the speaker.
at was in 1894, " said he 81 had Just given
to the theatre of La Porte Saint Martin, q
drama, which thus far has brought me the
most money, and (why should not say it2)
! the most fame as dramatic writer | re
ceiyed by the same post two letters from Mar
Settles One was from the manager Of the
theatre Of that city, saying, that to secure the
better performance, and consequent success, Oi
my new piece, he desired my personal aid Al
the rehearsals. The proprietors of the thea
trV left the sum to be allowed for my counsel
time and expenses, to be named by myself, bu
| must certainly 90, and Immediately. Tht
other letter was in these words:
/ The widow aud child of your late brother
are in sickness and nearly dying of want. A
few hundred francs would save their lives, and
! your presence here would restore them back tC
health.
| (Signed) 'EICToR LAMBERT, NJ. D..
II said to you at first, and do not shrink
! from repeating it, (for l can now make the
ayowal without shamc,) that lad the flinty
heart of the demon Of avarice. The physi-
clans letter put me in rage, aud | crushed
and tore it in pieces-but the proposal from
the manager required an immediate answer,
and started the very next day for Marseilles:
My Journey was one long sum in addition. l
noted down to a ccatfBle my expenses estl-
mated the value Of every hour Of my time--I
fixed upon the sum to be asked for my advice
each word was weighed and had its price,
and nothing was omitted by which | could
swell up the amount of my demands. My
Door sister in law l thought of as little as
possible, and when her image, IN sickness and
poverty, did force itself upon my memory,
quickly banishCd it. Oh! It was vile IN me,
it was infamous, for | had long ago inten-
tionally Ill treated my Door kinswoman.
'Ycars before the period in question, had
received letter from my only brother, "a
true. hearted sailor, now, alas buried in the
ocean informing mo that he was deeply in
love with, and about to marry, the daughter
of fisherman, who would bring him valua-
Bile dowry, made up of an Cxcellant heart,
a fine person, eyes of the greatest beauty,
and an entire absence of ready money, To
this letter had replied as follows:
"'You are in love, it appears, and you would |
foolish girl who has the rare merit of |
being poorer than yourself. Be happy with
your mermaid, if you can, but between our |
selves you are going to do a very foolish |
thing-if not toolate, break it off. Alden!
"fhis letter was short but not otsweet.
"My sister.in-law was native of Norman
ly, which implies, as we all know, that she |
was extremely proud; and she was besides.
yirtuous, resolute, and especially, headstrOng.
She never forgot this unfeeling letter, and at
heart she nourished deep-seated contempt
ior the writer. When, therefore, her husband !
Derished at sea, when without support, without
iope for the future, she found herself reduced
o penury, and in sickness, she determined to
uffeF everything, even death ITSELF rather
han seek my aid--and she might have died
Without writing to lne---without pardOningme
(which certainly would have been very head
tr0ng, not particularly wise, and not at all in
Christian like spirit--but she was not alone
a her destitdtion--she had child, lovely
title girl, who lay on the miserable bed with
ier dying mother, daily wasting away, and
nduring thepangs Of hunger with the resig-
Istion Of an angel Notwithstanding ell her
hstinacy, my sister-iE-law loved her child
nth mothers dOting fOndness, and she soon
aw that If she would save its life, an effort
must be made to soften the heart Of the cruel
rother. She made the avowal to her physi-
ian, kind hearted aud charitable man, who
Iad already ascertained that poverty was the !