The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-04-16

keeping him sober; but, after repeated transgres-
sions, he solemnly promised not to offend again
during his stay. In he evening Of the day upon
which the promise was made, Cooke was not 20
be found when wanted for Sir Pertinax MacSyco1
phant; the audience grew impatient the mana
ger stormed, and all was in most admired disor-
der After q long search the manager discovered
him at a pot-house near the theatre, where he
was drinking with great composure and purseve-
rance out of a very small glass oh, MIR. Cooke
exclaimed the irritated manager you have again
broken your solemn promise; did you not tell
me you would give over drinking? Cooke sur
veyed the manager with the most provoking
GOODNESS, and said, 4 certainly did make
such PROMISE but you cannot expect
a man to reform all at once | have given
over drinking ia a great Measure aud the incor-
rigible player held up the small glass to the
managers nose. This was not the only anecdote
of his predecessor which Kean related with III
finite relish. Cooke was playing Macbeth one
night at n Scottish theatre, when the manager
seeing that he was greatly exhausted when the
fifth act came on, offered him some whisky in
very small thistle glass, saying at the same time,
by way of encouragement, Take that, Mr..
Cooke; take that sir; it is the real mountain
dew; that will never hurt you, sir Not If 1t
were vitriol,' rejoined Cooke, significantly as he
swallowed it,"
Among the most interesting of the original
passages in this Life must be reckoued the con
tributions of keans medical friend at Rich
mond DR.. Smith. They enable us to see more
than has hitherto been seen of the players later
wrestling with life on the stage, and OF his inner
life at home. DR.. Smith thus writes:-
''On the 10Th Of February, 1881, he was an
nounced to play Othello ut Drury Lane. On the
morning of that day he told me that he felt so
unwell az to find it necessary TO send his secIe-
tary, Mr.. Lee, up to London, with an apology Tor
his inability to perform. To reassure him,
promised to accompany him if he would go. His
eye frightened as he replied, 1t would give me
great confidence to know that you were behind
the scenes 90 will afterwards found il impos-
iii IL, 20, NTH m N his nOst-phaiap but |
promised to be in the theatre in less than an hour
after him. He went. Contrary to my eXpecta-
tions, was able to reach the theatre before the
performance commenced. The announcement
that | was Mr. Kean's medical adviser gained me
immediate admission to the back of the stage,
and, upon going into the tragedians dressing
room, | found him seated i'll the chair before
the glass, an attendant coloring his face Tor
Othello, and goblet of hot brandy-and-water
upon the table in front of him. His dressing
room was still haunted by noble and dis
tinguished visitors, some of whom were smoking
and drinking with him. Kean seemed very
pleased to see me, and, in answer to my lnqul-
ries, said that he felt well enough to go through
with his part. | pointed to his brandy-and-
water, and shook my head. Ah, he returned,
with melancholy smile, until four years ago
could play without that, but / can't do Othello
now without it He played very finely, and the
audience were in ecstasies. In the fifth act he
was nearly exhausted, and when the curtain fell
| found that he was very feeble. Ills post-chaise,
standing outside ready to start for Richmond,
attracted the attention of the people as they
went out, and crowd assembled to see him
drive off. 1t was a beautiful night, and they
waited patiently until the tragedian, having
washed part of the brown complexion of the
Moor from his face, and exchanged his rich Ori-
entail dress for that of the nineteenth century,
came out AS he issued from the stagc-door
they gave him a tremendous cheer; he was theu
swiftly caught up, and carried in triumph to the
post-chase, Hi Stopr / cried, thinking that
~ hn N mt l.unN tInfI
there, would drive off without me. Let that
gentleman pass through, will you! said Kean to
some of the crowd; he is my medical adviser
The words were no sooner out of his lips than l
found myself lifted Off terra frmd, and in the
twinkling of an eye deposited by the side of my
patient in the post-chaise. He appeared not at
all unused to demonstrations like these, and
seemed to enjoy my amazement very much. We
then drove off at full speed"
And here the curtain begins to descend to soft
music and tears:-
His whole life Mt Richmond was one of self
reproach; and as an illustration of this Il further
extract from DR.. Smiths communications to me
will be acceptable to the reader. L used to see
him every day. One evening, in the summer of
1882, Icrossed the green and went into his house,
the door being open. In the twilight saw the
figure of Mr.. Lee, not very clearly Defined stand
ing at the door of Mr. Kean's sitting-room. The
secretary, who was attentively listening to some
thing, raised his finger to enon silence. The trat
gedian sitting at his piano, accompanying
Those Evening Bells. Next he sang with ex-
quisite sweetness and pathos one or two of Moores
melodies after which he repeated Those Evening
Bells At first he sang with great clcarness; but
gradually his voice became plaintive in the ex-
treme-then tremulous-then thick, as if with
emotion. 1t slowly died away. and dead
silence followed. / softly opened the door and
went in. His head was bowed down upon the
piano, and as he raised it on hearing my ap-
proach a moonbeam fell upon the keys of the
instrument, showing me that they were wet with
tears"
We will not take leave of Mr.. Hawkins book.
without remarking that additional value is con-
ferred upon il by the insertion of some of the
fine original old criticisms which were written
upon the hero by the foremost men of their time.
They will, for many reasons well repay perusal.
Not less, certainly, may be said of the book IL
self, which, though not without faults Will be
received with fun measure of sympathy on the
part of all who feel an interest in glorious, but
we fear "A detunct, art.