The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1867-09-09

a turgid piece of leather. Cibber had been
better as "Bayes," Quin as "Sir John
Brute" and "Macbeth;' the town had dis
liked his "Hotspur." O'Brien had been
smarter coxoomb and man of fashion. Mrs.
Give had surpassed him in low comedy, Quin
in Clear" Johnson in nature Mrs. Porter in
passionate tragedy. These foolish haters
hated as strongly as if they could derive Pc
cuniary benefit from a great mans downfall,
and Garrick, all nerve and vanity Garrick.
the man who wrote his own ortiques quivered
as every gnatbite as If he had been crunohed
by the teeth of tiger.
Three actsare done, lhe jest grows stale,
The lamps are growing aim aud pale,
And reason asks cui bono ?"
The night before he quilted the stage for
ever Garrick bade farewell to tragedy. He
played "Lear' to the "Cordelian of Miss
Younge. His biographer Murphy, tells US
where Garrick got his model for the mad king.
He says:-
"When he began to study this great and diff
cult part, he was acquainted with worthy
man who lived in Leman street, Goodman's
Fields; this friend had an only daughter about
two years DID, he stood at his dining-room
window fondling the child, and dangling it in
his arms, when it was his misfortune to drop
the infant into tagged area and killed it on
the spot. He remained at his window scream
ing in agonies of grief, The neighbors 1ocked
to the house, took up the child, and delivered
it dead to the unhappy father, who wept bit
terly, and filed the street with lamentations
He lost his senses, and from that moment
never recovered his understanding. As he
had sufficient fortune, his friends chose to let
him remain in his house under two keepers
appointed by DR.. Monro. Garrick frequently
went to see his distracted friend, who passed
the remainder of his life in going to the win
dow, and there playing in fancy with his child:
Alter some dalliance he dropped it, and, burst
ing into flood of tears, filled the house with
shrieks of grief and bitter anguish. He then
sat down in pensive mood his eyes fixed on
one object, at times looking slowly round him
as If to implore compassion. Garrick was
often present at this scene of misery, and was
ever after used to say that it gave him the
first idea of King Lear's' madness"
AS the curtain fell on the dead king and
his dead daughter, 'Iear" aud "Cordela'' lay
on the stage side by side and hand in hand.
They rose together and hand in hand still
went in silence to the dressing-room, followed
by many of the company. They stood there,
"Lear' and "Cordelia," still bound by the
strong sympathy of the play, hand in hand,
and without speaking. At last Garrick said
mouTnfully, and with sight
"Ah Bessie, this is the last time l shall
ever be your father-the last time -
Then their hands fell asunder.
Miss Yopnge replied with an afrectionate
hope that, before they finally parted, he would
BLESSING.
Garrick raised his hands soiemnly: Miss
YOunge bent her knee and bowed her fair
head, as the old man fervently prayed God
TO bless her. Then slowly turning, he said
May God bless you all !" and retired to take
OIL his "King Lear dress for the last time.
When Quin was dying at Bath, he said:-'T
could wish that the last tragic scene were over,
and hope may be enabled to meet and pass
through it with dignity" On Garriclz, that
actor who had played hundred character,
and had originated thirty, that last scene had
now opened Regret, sorrow, and gratitude
were struggling in his heart.
On the 10th Of June, l776, Garrick appeared
tor the last time as "Don Felix'' in the comedy
OF the Wonder. He had wished to close with
+'Richard the Third" his first great
triumph; bdt he had considered that after
the nervous tumult of the tent-scene, and
the rage and passion of the battle, he should
be worth nothing, and might be too fatigued
to utter his farewell. He braced himself up
to be once more dazzling, vivacious, airy,
gallant and witty. He resolved to show
himself as if passed through Medea's
caldrOn, again young. and vigorous. Garrick's
thrift had been cruelty ridiculed by Foote and
other heartless wits as the basest stinginess.
His last public act, however, was a work of
charity. He had always been a generous rival
and kind manager. He now wished to en-
force on thoughtless and somewhat reckless
law N4iV AVOOHSlIJ VI pIVN1uluS 1VI Iu6 pOOT
stragglers from the ranks, and for the de-
feated and beaten down in life's long and
tough battle A fund for old and infrm actors
had been incorporated at Drury Lane by his
exertions; he had also provided an annual
benefit to help forward the charity. He now
announced that the profits of his last night were
to 60 to this admirable fund His prologue on
this occasion was admirably neat, full of humor,
and contained many happy illusions to the
motley contrasts of theatrical life:-
"a vet'ran see! whose last act on the stage
Intreats our smiles for sickness and for age;
Their cause plead; plead II in heart and mind;
A fellow-feeling makes one wond'rous kind
Might we but hope your zeal would not be less,
w hen am gone, TO patronize distress,
That hope obtain'd the wlsh'd-for end secures,
To soothe their cares, who oft have lgnten'd
yours.
Shall the great heroes of celestial line.
Who drank full bowls of Greek and Roman
wine, .
Cesar and Brutus, Agamemnon, Hector.
Nay, Jove himself who here has quaff'd his
Shall they, who gOvern'd fortune, cringe and
Thirst in their age, and call in vain for porter?
ihke Belisarius, tax the plying street,
With Gate obolum,' to all they meet
ShantI l, who oft have drench'd my hands in
GORE
stabb'd many, poisond some, beheaded more
Who numbers slew in battle on this plain,
Shan't 1, the slayer, try to feed the slain :?
Brother TO all, with equal love view
The men who slew me- and the men slew:
1 mustl will, this happy project seize,
Ihat those, too old and weak, may live with
Suppose the babes smother'd in the tow'r,
BY chance or sickness, lose their acting power;
Shall they; once princess worse than all be
In Childhood unuvderJd orod when rnurdaryd