UC-NRLF aa? M3i COB.IO [,. \NU.s WHAT IS THE MATTER, (ISSENTIOUS ; ' Vv,../, :r>r_X/>., ^\^ r / / >>/ y ^ Vr/lfatVS //' V///./. I , - -^ * s -X ' h&t ty T.ffcft. /. t'atfitirifM Str/si-. .ffwr// MDCCCXXIZL SONNET 3. P. KEMBLE, ESQ. Stiame to the age ! if not a muse were found To bid to thee one verse harmonious flow, Thee, to whom Shakespeare's muse so much doth owe, For action, thought-inspir'd, and artful sound, Worthy his mighty lays, which, though uncrown'd With elocution's charms, are music still ; Numbers so sweet, fruits of fair Nature's skill, That latest time shall witness them reuown'd. But mix not, Kemble, with thy garland green A leaf autumnal one of paler hue Thy days of proudest triumph thou hast seen, And immortality shall be thy due, If Wisdom place a timely veil between Thy soul's full faculties and the world's view. ISLINGTON, 26, J816, .Y . AVHO IS THE VVB MEMOIR JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. THOSE arts with which the morals and progress of a nation are connected must always possess a most exalted claim upon taste and admiration, us wt-ll in relation to the intellect displayed i:i the arts them- selves, as to the utility of their dt^ign. Poetry ami Painting are generally allowed to loser connexion with refinement and civilization than any other species of art or science :;nr), houwer the vulgar and sanctimonious of mankind may un- dervalue them, History j roves that to wh.itever degree of perfection these arts have attained in any country, there also, in proportion, have the results been advantageous. The Drama, however, m -y be considered as, in n great measure, blending 1 1.. Ve two arts into one, and thereby, with the supet added advantages of life and motion, advanci: plea to superiority over either. For if the St t ae be a " Mirror," and poetry and action ,re essen- tial to dramatic exhibitions, representations of this nature may, with strict propriety, be Characterized as ANIMATED PAINTINGS. In witne^ing a fine play well acted, the spectator feels that interest and gratification doubled, which would naturally arise in his bosom on perusing an excellent poem, or contemplating a beautiful picture. For though a. fine imagination and a masterly hand may per- il 2 4 MEMOIR OF form much, yet we are all aware that no represen- tation of either the poet or the painter affects us so sensibly as the events of real life, to which the mimic incidents of the Drama bear a close rela- tionship. The greatest and most varied talents are necessary to constitute a good performer; and the character of the Stage, as above given, resting upon incontestable proof, it is impossible to- discern any rational foundation for denying to the histrionic profession as high honours and applause as are be- stowed on any other class of the liberal arts. Many and noble characters society and their country have had to boast selected from this profession; but amidst its living ornaments no one stands more conspicuously eminent than the subject of these memoirs. Mr. ROGER KEMBLE, the father of the present celebrated family of that name, was a Roman Ca- tholic, and originally a barber: he followed his trade for some time at Barnet, and afterwards at Rochester; from thence he went to Deal, and mar- ried the daughter of one WARD, manager of a strolling company, and commenced actor. He was, however, so meanly thought of in his new profes- sion, that the father of his wife sarcastically re- marked, he had a strong inclination to forgive her, though the match was against his consent, as she had kept her word with him, in one respect at least, and that was never to marry an actor. But, para- doxical as it may appear, there are some men who are merely dunces as workmen, yet obtain ap- plause and profit when raised to the direction and management of others. This was evidently the case with Mr. ROGER KEMBLE, as the company of whi h he was soon afterwards chief, became, from his talents and attention, the most famous troop of itinerants of the day. It was under these auspices our hero first saw the light. JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 5 JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE is stated to have been born at Preston, in Lancashire, in the year 1757; and was sent at an early age to a Catholic semi- nary of much eminence, situated at Sedgely Park, in Staffordshire. It would seem, however, that young KEMBLE'S school txerrises were occasionally interrupted by others of a difteren* description, as we learn from a play-bill, \\li.ch :s still prererved, that he was admitted, while a mm 1 liii.l, a member of the corps dramatique headed by his father. As the said bill, from its being connected with the early history of the KLMBLE family, is curious, as well as from its relating to the subject of tnis me- moir, it shall be here transcribed. Worcester , February 12, 1767. Mr. KEMBLE'S Compi-.r.y of Comedians. At the Theatre, at the King's Head, this evening will be performed a Concert of Music, to begin exactly at six o'clock. Tickets to be had at the usual places. Between the parts of the Concert will be presented gratis, a celebrated Historical Play, (never per- formed here) called KING CHARLES THE FIRST. The characters to be dressed in ancient habits ac- cording to the fashion of those times. The part of King Charley Mr. JONES.* Duke of Richmond, Mr. SiDDONS.f Marquis of Lindsay, Mr. SALISBURY; Bishop Juxon, Mr. FOWLER. General Fairfax, Mr. KEMBLE. Colonel Ire ton } Mr. CRUMP. * Of whom further mention will be made in the ea suing pages. t Afterward* the husband of the great actress. B 3 (5 MEMOIR O? Colonel Tomlinson, Mr. HUGHES.* The part of Oliver Cromwell, Mr. VAUGIIAN. Servant, Mr. BUTLER. James, Duke of York (afterwards King of England),* Master J. KEMBLE. f The Duke of Gloucester (King Charles's younger son) Miss FANNY KEMBLE. J Serjeant Uradshaw (Judge of the pretended High Court of Justice) Mr. BURTON. The young Princess Elizabeth, Miss KEMBLE. Lady Fairfax, Mrs. KEMBLE. The part of the Queen, Mrs. VAUGHAN. Singing between the acts by Mrs. FOWLER and Miss KEMBLE. To which will hp added a Comedy, called THE MINOR. And on Saturday next the 14th Inst. will be again presented the above Tragedy, with a Farce that will he expressed in the bills for the day. "^ The days of performance are Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. It is rather remarkable that after being thus christened, as it were, a player, his father should have intended him for the profession of a priest. Upon what grounds the old gentleman formed this design is not known, unless it may be supposed that the life of an actor occasioned him some tremours of conscience, and the convenience of having one part of the family capable of absolving the sins of the rest was a temptation too inviting to he resisted. One would not imagine that he saw any thing at- tracting in the fate of his ancestor, || who fell a * The late proprietor of Sadler's Wells and Weymouth theatres. t The subject of this biography. t Mrs. Tvviss. Mrs. Siddons s H The person here alluded to was a Roman Catholic JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 7 sacrifice to the persecution of the times in the reign of Charles the First; to be sure the character of the age was different, and Mr. R. KF.MELE could hardly apprehend a similar misfortune to his son. After remaining a period of sufficient duration at Sedgely Park, young KEMBLE was removed to the English College at Douay, where he was properly instructed in the rudiments of the Greek and Latin languages. While at the latter place, he was par- ticularly distinguished for his strength of memory, refined taste, and distinct enunciation. But though Mr. KEMBLE has since afforded proofs that he was not inattentive to his college studies, yet his then restricted mode of life, or the prospect before him not according with the inclinations of a youthful and sanguine mind, induced him to quit Douay be- fore l)e had attained the age of twenty. The young fugitive landed at Bristol, whence he proceeded on foot to Gloucester, where, hearing that his father's company was playing at Breck- nock, he continued his peregrination thither; but, on his arrival, had the mortification to meet with ;i cool reception. It is said, his father even refused to relieve him, and that he was indebted to the generosity of the itinerant players for a subscrip- tion, to which his father was prevailed on, with re- luctance, to add a guinea, to enable him to subsist. On experiencing this instance of paternal regard, Mr. KEMBLE did not long continue in the " home of priest in the reign of Charles the First, and was tried and executed at Hereford the place where the executioa took place is now the race-ground, and known by the name of Wide-Marsh. His hand was cut off, and con- tinued in the possession of Mr. Foreman, a respectable Catholic within two miles of the town, and was in great esteem by the superstitious, who used it to touch wens,. &c. under the insane idea that it possessed supernatural virtues. 8 MEMOIR OF his father," but hastened to Wolverhampton, where he joined CHAMBERLAIN and CRUMP'S company, and made his debut in the character of T/ieo- dosius, in the " Force of Love." His first effort was not very successful. His second attempt was Bajazct, in the play of " Tamerlane," in which he was more fortunate. It cannot be supposed the receipts of a pro- vincial actor are great; Mr. KEMBLE, in this respect, was not more fortunate than his brethren, and though regarded as a rising performer, there was an extreme negligence, and a tendency to dis- sipation in his conduct, which operated as a con- siderable drawback upon his interests. When Mr. KEMBLE commenced his histrionic career, there existed an actor of some popularity in provincial theatres, of the name of JONES. This man was patronized by GAR RICK for his ingenuity in making paper models, scenes, &c. to imitate carved work; a beautiful specimen of his work- manship, we understand, is still preserved in the collection formed by that gentleman. Whatever degree of talent he might have possessed as an actor, his name was certainly considered by the managerial potentates of barns and cock-lofts as a " tower of strength. " Our reason for introducing him to the reader is, that we may mention a fact with which his name is connected. The bills which announced the early performances of Mr. KEMBLE, stated he would act Hamlet, Macbeth, and other characters, after the manner of Mr. JONES. At this time, Mr. KEMBLE'S pecuniary resources were in so low a state that, it is related of him, he could not even pay his laundress the sum of fifteen pence, nor obtain credit for that amount. She consequently refused to deliver him a shirt, the only one belonging to his wardrobe, and which he was in urgent want of, to dress for his part, Venti- JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 9 dius, in " All for Love," till she was paid; and he was actually reduced to the necessity of shifting an, odd ruffle frum one wrist to the other, alternately, during; the performance, concealing the naked one in his cloak, so as to prevent the audience from noticing the mat-apropos deficiency. Another instance of his poverty is the well- known adventure of the shipping-top. Being in arrears with his landlady, and not uble to satisfy her importunate demands for payment, he prac- tised the following expedient : In the room exactly under that occupied by Mr. KEMBLE the good ;o.s l.ty ill, mid as the apothecary was one day quitting the house, he left directions that the patient snouid be kept quiet; KEMBLE overhearing the injunction, instantly conceived the idea of converting the prescription of ESCULAPJUS to his own advantage. This he did by spinning a top, under the pretence of exercise being necessary to his health, with incessant noise and velocity, continuing this troublesome motion tiii his hostess was glad to purchase peace on any terms; a bar- gain was therefore struck, and Mr. KEMBLE took his departure exempt from all charges. CRUMP and CHAMBERLAIN are described by RYLEY in the " itinerant," the former as being " a blunt, morose, brutish character; the ht'er, sly and cunning: they were commonly known by the names of Fox and BRIMN [" When KF.MBLE left them, he chalked the following couplet upon the theatrical barn door: I fly to shun impending ruin, And leave the Fox to tight with Bruin. Having released himself from the managerial authority of these gentlemen, he strolled about the country in company with a person who went under the name of CARLETON, practising sundry schemes 10 MEMOIR OF and experiments in order to raise a poor supply of daily necessaries; among others he adopted the profession of a Methodist preacher, wore the mask of piety on his features, and looked and prayed with an air of such real devotion, that if he was not sincere, he was at least entitled to the praise of good acting' but that is praise to which he is al- ways entitled. What encouragement or rewards his labours of seeming piety met with we do not know, but in the end he returned to his old occu- pation. Another project which, jointly with the person above mentioned, he put in execution, was a spe- cies of entertainment, in which KEMBLE was to lecture, and his partner achieve feats of legerde- main. The former was successful in obtaining one part of his object, to wit applause; but neither of them much increased their financial stock. A ludicrous event which occurred at Cheltenham put an end to this serio-comic connection. While Mr. KEMBLE was delivering -a grave moral disser- tation, his companion was detected with the wife of a carpenter, (who had been employed to construct a temporary wooden convenience for the purposes of the exhibition,) in a situation of gallantry not quite consistent with the sentiments of morality which our hero was endeavouring to inculcate. The outcry occasioned by this unlucky faux-pas compelled the adventurers to decamp with preci- pitation. Penury will often lead a man into strange vicis- situdes and ludicrous embarrasrnents; the life of a strolling player is fruitful in examples of distress mingled with the ridiculous. The following inci- dent in the life of our hero is amusing, though doubtless it was not very pleasant to his feelings at the time. (t In one of those miserable places which were JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 11 used as theatres, in some of the respectable towns of England, the male actors dressed and undressed themselves in a kind of cock-loft over the stage. KEMBLE having taken off his coat to deck himself in the trumpery finery of the theatrical wardrobe, cautiously stowed it in a nook, between the rafters of the building and the roof. Every one knows the adventurous daring of boys to gratify their curiosity, and get a peep at the scenic wonders from which their poverty excludes them. Some of these urchins had, with towering ambition, reached the roof, and over-topped even the heroic KEMBLE. Their exertions did not cease here until they had made an aperture in the roof, and proudly looked down on gods and men below. Unfortunately KEMBLE'S coat obstructed their view. A mis- chievous elf, finding it within reach, drew the sleeve through the hole he and his companions had made, and as the remainder would not follow, he took his pen-knife and cut it off. The mutilated coat fell in, the arm was carried away, when these imps had satisfied their love of fun and mischief. KEMBLE, after the labours of the evening, putting his coat on, found the lamentable deficiency, and fearing the laugh of his companions, got home unseen ; but what was to be done in the morning ? He had no other coat: he must go to rehearsal. Summoning his philosophy to his aid, he assumed that look of sang-froid, of which he is so eminently capable, and with one sleeved, and one sleeveless arm, he coolly walked through the town to the theatre, fol- lowed by a mob of boys, who huzza'd him to the scenes of his greatness. Here he was received with a shout of laughter by the company, which he bore with the most stoical indifference. Mrs. , a London star, on whom this company of Thespians were attending, and who had marked KEMBLE'S superiority of talents, questioned him as to the 12 MEMOIR OF meaning of his appearance. John, with great naivete, told his misfortune. " But why not put on another coat this morn- ing?" " Another," says John, " whose would it be ? I have no other." The lady laughed, and had the address to prevail upon die hero, without offending his delicacy, to accept a new coat of her ordering, and was assi- duous ever after in commending his merit.* After undergoing a variety of mortifying circum- stances, and long enduring all the contumely and neglect, and " the spnrns Which patient merit of the unworthy takes ;" we find Mr. KEMBLE at Worcester, where he had the misfortune to incur a debt to a taylor, for which he was arrested. He was released from this disagreeable state of bondage by Mrs. SIDDONS, and introduced by that lady to Mr. YOUNGER, from which time he began to rise gradually in res- pectability and estimation. In 1778, he paid an introductory visit to the in- habitants of Hull, where he selected the part of Macbeth to commence his campaign ; and in the same year brought on the stage his tragedy of " Belisarius" It was never printed. In the north of England he performed for some time, under the management of the eccentric but worthy Mr. TATE WILKINSON, and composed several dramatic trifles, which were acted at York; one of these was an alteration of MASSINGER'S comedy of " A New Way to pay Old Debts;" and another was the t Comedy of Errors," metamorphosed into a piece called " Oh! its impossible" They attracted a temporary notice; but their names are now all * Donlap's Life of Cook, JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 13 iJiat is generally known of them. He was also fortunate in getting-up a musical olio, consisting of several of the most admired odes of MASON, GRAY, and COLLINS; the tales of LE FEVRE and MARIA, from STERNE, with other pieces in prose and verse. Entertainments of this description have since become common to an extreme; but, like most other imitations, they are infinitely in- ferior to their original. Young KF.MBLE also published a volume of poems, tinder the title of Fugitive Pieces, which are spoken of by those who have had an oppor- tunity of perusing them, as displaying marks of it superior mind. He was himself, however, so dis- satisfied with the contents, on seeing them in print, that he destroyed the whole of the copies which re- mained in his possession, and exerted himself to stop the circulation of such as had been distributed. A copy of these early effusions were sold a few years since for o3. 5s.* KEMBLE stood high in favour with Mr. WIL- KINSON, who frequently placed him in parts gene- rally occupied by other performers as a matter of exclusive right. Mr. WILKINSON relates that he had given a servant permission to go and see " Hamlet," but on his remaining at home, ques- tioned him, and received for answer, he would not go to the theatre because Mr. KEMBLE played Hamlet, and it was " Mr. CUMMIN'S part/' The servant appears to have had a high notion of pre- rogative. When TATE WILKINSON became manager of the Edinburgh theatre he was accompanied by KEMBLE, who had the satisfaction of being well received in that capital, and of gaining a considerable accession to his literary fame by delivering a LECTURE ON * BiograpLica Dramatica. c 14 MEMOIR OP ORATORY. He was now rapidly emerging into ce- lebrity, lie left Mr. TATE WILKINSON in 1781, being engaged by Mr. DALY, and made his first appearance in Dublin, as Hamlet, a character in which he has always experienced distinguished ap- plause. It being the intention of the manager to exhibit JEPHSON'S tragedy of " The Count of Nar- bonne," the author was of opinion that Mr. DALY had no performer who could personate the Count with proportionate effect, but on seeing KEMBLE in the part, he acknowledged that Mr. FARREN, its re- presentative in London, was inferior to him. No man is less adapted physically or morally for comedy than Mr. KMBLE; yet notwithstanding his incapacity, choice or necessity induced him oc- casionally to take that line. Performing Sir George Touchwood, in the first representation of the "Belle's Stratagem" in 'Dublin, the manager, who played Doricourt, thought that Mr. KEMBLE did not dis- play sufficient spirit in his part, and told him so behind the scenes, and that he must exert himself more, and take pattern from him. This imperious conduct did not suit our hero's temper at all; he warmly resented it, immediately changed his dress, and told Mr. DALY he might get some one else to finish the part, nor would he resume it till the ma- nager had asked his pardon. But though it was not in Mr. KEMBLE'S nature to excite risibility, few men were more easily moved to laughter. An in- cident, though trifling, will serve to display this pro- pensity to which he was subject in an amusing light. One evening, during his performance of Mark Antony in ft Ail for Love," an old gentle- man, who unluckily happened to be hard of hear- ing, leaned over the front of an upper box in which he sat, holding a listening trumpet to his ear. There was nothing particularly comic in this ap- pearance, but it had such an effect on Mr. KEMBLE, JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 15 that after striving to smother his risible emotions, which were at first considered a display of agitation arising from the pathos of the scene, to the asto- nishment of the audience, he indulged a loud and immoderate laugh, nor could he for some minutes remould his features to their serioas expression. The life of almost every actor supplies scenes cal- culated to excite our pity, commiseration, and dis- gust, Poverty and distress in a variety of shapes, talent, employing in lonely study the midnight hour, and long struggling with the gigantic and re- pelling arm of adversity, Vice and dissipation with their trains of woeful contingencies, are too frequently the concomitants to those allurements which kindle ambition in the votaries of theatrical renown. And after all, happy is the man who, by the devotion of one half of his life to indigence and obscurity, wandering with associates" us wretched as himself from barn to barn, and hedge to hedge, can derive a decent reputation and emolument during the other half. Not, therefore, to dwell longer on that period of Mr. KEMBLE'S existence, when he was forced to share the difficulties and privations so con ,1110.1 to the brethren of his profession, it will be more to arrive at once at that aera so ea- gerly looked forward to by every anxious and as*- |)irin<; son and daughter of Thespis, and which gene- rally forms the most important epoch in the career of those who pass the ordeal that of an introduc- tion to a London audience. This is the touchstone which decides the fortu.ies of theatrical heroes and heroines. Mrs. SIDDOXS being at this time in the meridian of her success, and reports of her brother's abilities having reached London, it was determined to give him an engagement at one of the principal theatres of the metropolis. Indeed, so desirous were the respective managers to obtain him, that Mr. Harris c 2 16 MEMOIR OF of Covent Garden Theatre, fearing the rival house, which had already made overtures would succeed, eagerly dispatched a messenger with proposals, and power to conclude the business, and by this haste facilitated his own disappointment. The person sent mistook the brothers, and engaged STEPHEN instead of JOHN, the latter therefore signed articles with the managers of Drury. It was on the 30th of September, 1783, he made his first bow in a London theatre as Hamlet, and sustained the deportment of the Danish Prince in such a manner as to justify the expectations which had been formed of his merits. He received the most flattering applause. Dramatic reviewing was not till within these few years conducted on a prin- ciple so useful and extensive as at present. It was sufficient to praise or condemn in the aggregate. Thus we may in vain look for some record, some traces of the peculiar beauties, the exquisite touches, and sudden transitions, the light and shade, and in- finite variations which must have so eminently marked the performances of BOOTH, BETTER.TON, GARRICK, and HENDERSON. Memory alone trea- sured up the distinguished features of theatrical ex- cellence, without attempting to delineate or convey to posterity their form. A mere criticism or review, it is true, cannot effect so much as might be wished; but it can, and does perform a great deal towards enabling future generations to figure to the mind those admirable traits of conception and execution which delight the present. We are therefore pre- cluded from taking a survey, as we could wish, of Mr. KEMBLE'S personation of this most arduous character on that occasion, and comparing it with his more matured representations ; but it bus always been esteemed one of the most chaste and correct performances the stage could ever boast. We shall recur to this subject when we come to speak sepa- JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 17 ratcly of Mr. KEMBLE'S qualifications for an actor. Mr. HENDERSON was still on the stage when Mr. KEMBLE first graced the London boards with his presence; and though the latter was entitled to, and received distinguished applause, he was not consi- dered equal to his justly esteemed rival. The consi- deration, however, with which he was now regarded, must have been highly pleasing to his mind : his praises formed the general topic of conversation; and the provincial managers evinced an eagerness to engage him during the summer recess. From motives of a laudable nature, independently of those which consulted his interest, he gave the preference to his friend Mr. YOUNGER, of Liverpool. 'The fol- lowing is a copy of the articles he signed on that occasion : MEMORANDUM. It is agreed this day of 1784, be- tween JOSEPH YOUNGER, Esq. Manager of the Theatre Royal Liverpool, on behalf of himself and his partner, GEORGE MATTOCKS, Esq. and JOHN KEMBLE, of the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, Lon- don, as follows : "The said JOHN KEMBLE, for and in consideration of the covenants and agreements hereinafter men- tioned, on the part of the said JOSEPH YOUNGEP* and GEORGE MAITOCKS, to be paid, kept, and per- formed, agrees during the course of the summer season, at the said Theatre Royal Liverpool, to study, rehearse, and perform all and every such character or characters as shall be allotted to him by the said JOSEPH YOUNGER or GEORGE MAT- TOCKS, in all plays, operas, farces, and pantomimes, to the utmost of his abilities. In consideration whereof, the s,aid JOSEPH YOUNGER and GEORGE MATTOCKS ; hereby agree and bind themselves, their c 3 18 MEMOIR OF heirs, executors, and assignees, to pay or cause to be paid to the said JOHN KEMBLE the sum of ten shillings for each and every night on which there shall be a play, opera, or entertainment in the said theatre during the said summer season ; the same to be paid on the Saturday in each acting week ; and also that he shall have the whole of the pro- duce of some one night in the said acting season to be appointed as his benefit, paying for the same the sum of thirty-five pounds to the said JOSEPH YOUNGER and GEORGE MATTOCKS, and any charge that may be incurred hy his fixing on a play that may require the assistance of supernumeraries or other persons not constantly in pay at the theatre, any additional expense in scenery, music, writing, &c. &c. " In witness whereof, the parties hereto have set their hand the day and year first above written." Our readers will be surprized at so great an actor as JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE receiving only ten shillings per night, after he had successfully stood the test of a London verdict. But it was not the custom at that time to remunerate performers so munificently as at present; and our hero was not like his sister, a star of the first magnitude, the splendour of whose radiance at once burst upon the world, enforcing an universal tribute of admiration and astonishment. On the decease of Mr. HENDERSON, Nov. 3, 1785, an actor and gentleman of distinguished at- tainments, and whose memory will long be re- gpected, KEMBLE became the acknowledged first male tragedian of the age. Throughout a variety of characters which he successively sustained, he advanced both in excellence and public estimation. The attention which he bestowed on the duties of his profession was incessant, and he had the plea- sure of finding his efforts duly encouraged and re- JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 9 warded by the crowds which nightly flocked to wit- ness his performance. In 1786, he produced a farce called the " Pro- ject," which had been previously acted in 1779, at York, under the name, we believe, of the Female Officer. It was never printed. In the year 1787, Mr. KEMBLE entered into a contract with Hymen, by marrying a lady of exemplary conduct, the widow of the late Mr. BREUETON, arid daughter of the late Mr. HOP- KINS, formerly prompter of Drury Lane Theatre. The circumstances which produced this match were of so novel a kind as to be entitled to particular description. Mr, KEMBLE, though in his person exceedingly graceful and dignified, is by no means gifted with those exterior qualifications of winning address and captivating elegance which are frequently supposed necessary to induce the female heart to surrender. Nevertheless, it seems a young lady of high birth and connexions, the daughter of a deceased noble- man, once a minister of state, conceived a lurking attachment in favour of our hero. His Lordship soon discovered the state of his daughter's affec- tions, and immediately sent to request an interview vith the object to which they pointed. In the course of the conference which ensued, his Lordship with an air of -frankness which hid the finesse be- neath, observed that to prosecute the enterprise on the part of the gentleman would be a fruitless and vain attempt, that proper and effectual means of precaution would be adopted to render the com- pletion of the project abortive; and finally, that even in an extreme case no pecuniary advantages would accrue. Yet as he wished to keep his mind at ease, and not to be under the necessity of stand- ing ct-ntinel over his daughter, he was willing to make a proposal, by acceding to which the gentle- 20 MEMOIR OF man would at once consult his own interest and his Lordship's peace. His Lordship then proceeded to state, that provided the gentleman would quiet his paternal apprehensions, by taking to himself a wife, he would be content to pay him down the sum of 0^4000 within a certain given time after the cele- bration of the nuptials. With respect to the person of his future bride, he left the gentleman (with the exception of one lady) to his own option and un- biassed choice; only stipulating, that the match should take place within a fortnight at the farthest. The subject matter of this conversation was of too weighty and momentous a nature to be ne- glected. Mr. KEMBLE agreed to comply with his Lordship's wishes, and his union with Mrs. BRERE- TON was speedily settled. The wedding-day arrived. Mr. BANNISTER, jun. acted the part of father, and in that capacity con- signed the lady to the arms of the gratified bride- groom : so far, so well. But after the parties had quitted the church, Mr. KEMBLE suddenly absented himself from their society. Some houis elapsed but he did not return; messengers were dispatched in various directions, but no tidings could be heard of him ; it was feared he had met with some acci- dent. This, however, fortunately proved not to be the case; he was at last discovered at a very late hour in his study, which had been, till then, unac- countably forgotten in the search, so completely absorbed in meditation as to have entirely lost all recollection of the interesting event in which he had been engaged in the morning. In due course of time, Mr. KEMBLE waited on his Lordship to claim the performance of his pro- mise. His Lordship received him with great po- liteness, and congratulated him on his nuptials; but when he proceeded to remind his Lordship of the occasion of his visit relative to the expected JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 21 dowry, he was rebutted in a strain of the most gal- ling and severe irony, a talent in which his Lord- ship was not deficient. He was asked what inte- rest his Lordship could have in his domestic ar- rangements ? On what plea he expected to be paid 0^4000 for marrying a pretty girl ? Was he in ear- nest, or was he acting ? His Lordship was fully sen- sible of, and duly admired his great theatrical ta- lents ; but there was no need for him to assume the actor in the present instance; his Lordship would take an early opportunity of witnessing his excellent performance on the public stage; meanwhile he begged leave to assure him of the high sense he en- tertained of his professional merit, and with these remarks his Lordship very politely withdrew. The above mentioned incidents are sufficiently whimsical. His Lordship's conduct was certainly dishonourable, not to say base; he however en- trapped Mr. KEMBLE into the possession of a good wife, a blessing for which the latter gentleman can- not be too thankful. An office of great trust and responsibility was conferred on him, by his appointment to the situa- tion of stage-man;tger,on the secession of Mr. KING in 1788. The duties to which a theatrical manager must attend, may perhaps be ranked among the most arduous, embarrassing, and tiresome, that fail to the lot of man. Every one who is in the least aware of the obstacles presented to a favourite plan by the intervention of conflicting interests, con- stant bickerings, feuds, and discontents, and ever- varying humours and caprice, will readily form an idea of the condition of a man who is every moment exposed to these and a thousand other thwartings, and causes of vexation. It is not therefore to be wondered, if Mr KEMBLE failed in his endeavours to give entire satisfaction in his new government if some obloquy and disapprobation were the result of 22 MEMOIR OF his attempts to please. But let it be recorded of him to his praise, that through his indefatigable ex- ertions, the dramas of our glorious SHAKESPEARE were represented with more classic propriety aijd attention to stage minutia, than they had ever been before at any period in the annals of the theatre. The inconsistent and ridiculous practice of dressing persons of antiquity in modern costume, as GAR- RICK used to play Macbeth in a fashionable laced suit, and dress-sword, and as BOOTH formerly acted Cato in full court-apparel, was exploded under the superintendence of KEMBLE. Every character henceforward assumed its proper habit ; and taste and judgment were no longer offended by the most incongruous absurdities, and the violation of all historical authority. During the interval between 1788 and 1795, there does not appear any incidents or events cal- culated to excite interest, connected with the his- tory of Mr. KEMBLE. liis powers as an actor, being then in their lull splendour, seldom failed of giving the utmost satisfaction to the audience; and by a needful and prudent attention to maxims of frugality, he was speedily realizing a truly respect- able competency. In the course of the above- mentioned period, he produced several dramatic pieces, a list of which, in the order they appeared, will be subjoined at the end of this work. It may, however, not be amiss to introduce in this place a couple of letters, (though the circum- stance which occasioned their publication occurred at a subsequent date,) illustrative of his anxiety to be considered a comic as well as tragic actor, and of his conduct as manager, under auspices moiv or less blended with his personal interest. It is ne- cessary to premise, that on Mrs. WELLS, after- wards SUMBEL, retiring from the stage, the other London managers complimented her with admis* JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 25 sions to their respective theatres; but Mr. KEM- BLE, then manager and part proprietor of the Theatre Royal Covent Garden, did not think proper to follow their example. The lady was conse- quently offended, and judging he was actuated by motives of individual gain, rather than by principles of justice to his partners, gave vent to her indigna- tion by publishing the two letters which we bhali here insert. " Dear Sir, Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. " I HAVE taken the liberty to put Mr. and Mrs. SAMVEI., and Mr. BONNER on the free-list, and hope you will Lave the goodness to give orders to your people to speak favourably of the Charles,* as more depends on that than you can possibly be aware of. " I remain, dear Sir, " your very humble servant, " J. P. KEMEI.E." " E. Topham, Esq. Weymouth Street, Portland Place" Mrs WELLS having written to Mr. TCPIIAM on the same subject as the above, received the follow- ing in return. " Dear Pud, Cowslip Hall, Suffolk. " I RECEIVED your letter, where you mention KEM- ELE'S wish to be puffed in Charles. You may inform Mr. EsxEt from me, I will not sacrifice the credit of my paper for all the admissions in Europe, to puff either the SIDDONS'S or the KEMBLE'S in comedy. " Yours, as ever, " Mrs. Wells." " E. Torn AM." * Charles, in the " School for Scandal," which Mr. KEMBLE had the presumption to attempt to perform. ( Mrs. Wells.) t The Editor of the " World" at that tijae, and th* tnthusiastic supporter of Mr. KEMBLE, 24 MEMOIR OP To the foregoing she adds the following anec- dote, relating to her grievance, and " John's" ob- stinacy. " One day as JOHN KEMBLE and I were quarrelling in King Street, Covent Garden, about the freedom of the theatre, Mr. KELLY rode up and requested to be permitted to interpose between us." " Have I not power to reconcile you both ?" Mr. KEMBLE immediately turned round and re- plied, " Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast !" But I instantly exclaimed, " JOHN, yours is too far gone, for it is beyond the power of music!" We shall here just allude to an example of the disgraceful and unjustifiable effects caused by the unrestrained impulse of momentary passion. Hav- ing no wish to revive unpleasant feelings, we shall but slightly touch OH the particulars of the case; it being our duty to detail things as they were, and things as they are, we cannot, consistently with the obligation imposed on us, evade the subject alto- gether. From these remarks our readers will an- ticipate; that we refer to Mr. KEMBLE'S unwar- rantable attempt on the honour of an unprotected female. While Miss DE CAMP was dressing or undress- ing herself at the theatre, Mr. KEMBLE, who we suppose had " Put an enemy into his mouth to steal Away bis brains." forced open the door of her apartment, and pro- ceeded to take some very abrupt liberties with her person. But the lady, when she had a little re- covered from her surprise at such an unexpected outrage, firmly resisted his assaults till more effec- tual assistance could be procured to her aid. When Mr. KEMBLE returned to his senses he made the .^ amende honorable, by inserting in the newspapers the following manly apology : JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 26 " 1, JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE, of the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, do adopt this method of publicly apologizing to MissDE CAMP, for the very improper and unjustifiable behaviour I was lately guilty of towards her, which I do further declare her conduct and character had in no instance authorized ; but, on the contrary, I do know and believe both to be irreproachable. ' " January 27, 1795." Miss DE CAMP a few years afterwards became Mrs. C. KF.MBLE, by marriage with our hero's bro- ther; and thus amicably terminated an affair which more seriously affected Mr. KEMBLE'S honour than any other part of his conduct that we are ac- quainted with through life. Events that have once obtained notoriety, though probably hurtful to the feelings of individuals, ne- cessarily become materials for history or biography; they are employed to elucidate the characters of times and persons; and it is the duty of a writer in either of these departments to embody the most prominent and useful facts in their genuine colours else wherefore is the use of his labours ? The causes which led to the rupture between Mr. KEM- BLE and Mr. COLMAN, are too important to be omitted in the biography of either of those gentle- men; however, therefore, we might wish to avoid exciting painful recollections, the nature of our task is such as to preclude us from indulging our feel- ings on all particulars. It is the business of the biographer to " extenuate nought, Nor set down aught in malice." And though we are well aware that a certain de- gree of delicacy ought to be observed in speaking of living characters, we think it no less desirable that truth should be spoken of the living than of the dead. The maxim of the ancients, " De mor- tuis nil nisi bonum" is exploded. 26 . MEMOIR OF Having deemed it right to say thus much, with a view of guarding ourselves from being suspected of partiality or detraction, it is time to return to our narrative. In the year 1796, shortly after Mr. KEMBLE had departed to fulfil an engagement in Ireland, a severe, and in many respects unmanly, attack was made on his reputation, by the celebrated GEORGE COLMAN THE YoUMGER. It is well known that when the play of the "Iron. Chest" was first acted at Drury Lane it failed, and that Mr. COLMAN, the author, printed in the first editions a most vituperative essay against our hero, in his double capacity of manager and performer ; ascribing to that gentleman solely the causes of the unsuccessfulness of the piece. But it should be remembered, that Mr. COLMAN'S preface was \vritten under the impulsion of feelings, rendered poignantly acute by the loss of 2000 guineas (a sum we believe unprecedented in such transactions) which he was to have received had the play suc- ceeded, it should therefore be received with cau- tion. That Mr. KEMBLE'S behaviour throughout the business was not such as to exculpate him en- tirely from the charges urged against him must be admitted ; but that he was so grossly culpable, as Mr. COLMAN attempted to prove, may be unequi- vocally denied. In order that a clearer understanding may be formed of the grounds on which the quarrel between these gentlemen originated, we will subjoin a brief analysis of this so celebrated preface ; the wit and satire of which will ensure it admiration, even from those who denounce its virulence and dislike its author. The reader will thereby be better enabled to judge what share of blame should be appor- tioned to Mr. KEMBLE for his conduct in the affair. Mr. COLMAN states that he was engaged by the JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 27 malingers of Drury Lane Theatre to write a play for them, which- lie executed accordingly. It was put in rehearsal under the superintendance of the prompter, as the stage-manager, Mr. KEMBLE, was confined to his apartment by illness. But two or three days before the first put-lie representation, Mr. KEMBLE came to the theatre and declared the piece ready for performance. It was therefore im- mediately announced. Intelligence of the " mighty fiat" was brought to Mr. COLMAN, who had been also prevented by sickness from witnessing the re- hearsal. He feared that under such a combination of ill omens, the play was not in -\ state of suffi- cient preparation to meet the public eye, but with " doubt and tr- mblin-" submitted to the manager's decision. About three hours ou/y before the cur- tain was to be drawn up to an expecting audience, he received a note from the prompter, written by the manager's order, requesting permission to trans- pose two of the most material scenes, on account of some difficulty which had occurred in adjusting the machinery. With this novel request Mr. ( MAN did not think proper to comply; but, not- withstanding his bodily weakness, repaired to the theatre, where lie saw Mr. KEMBLE in his dressing- room suptillowing opium pills. This circumstance is dwelt on to corroborate the other parts of the statement. He describes Mr. KFMBLE as being unfit, from the state of his health, to do justice to the character of Sir Etl\curm its frame upon the stage it could not have looked better; but Mr. COLMAN thinks also, in jus- tice to the picture, it could scarcely have acted wurse. The disapprobation of the audience, evinced be- fore the end of the first act, most alarmingly in- creased during the succeeding ones. When at its height, Mr. KEMBLE, to appease the grumbling multitude, stepped forward, and begged they would suspend their judgment of the piece, as his illness incapacitated him from giving full effect to the principal character. This had some effect; but the play " dragg'd its slow length along/ 7 in a manner that would have been sufficient to dispel the hopes of any but a veteran in dramatic lite- rature. Mr. COLMAN then insinuates that this apology, for which he at first felt grateful, was nothing but an artifice calculated to preserve appearances, in- tended as a salvo for the performer, and not to benefit the author. He then enquires how he stands indebted to Mr. KEMBLE, and reduces the amount of his statement to the following items: For his illness Compassion. For his conduct under it, ... Censure. For his refusing to make an apology, A smile. For his making an apology, . . A sneer. For his mismanagement, ... A groan. For his acting, A hiss. Such is the sum total of Mr, COLMAN'S charges, JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 29 divested of the wit and ornament with which they are embellished. A few remarks on them will not be oat of place. Mr. COLMAN confesses that he sent the play to the theatre, piece-meal, as fast as the sheets came from under his pen. With this fact before us, and mindful that the known habits of that gentleman have never been over-favourable to a system of economy, it certainly would not be extravagant to suppose that 2000/. might be some inducement for being guilty of a little haste him- self. Why did he send the play to the theatre in scraps? Was it by the manager's wish ? No, he would have said so if it had. Where then was the necessity for such haste ? This question can be answered only by Mr. COLMAN himself. Mr. KEM- BLE cannot be blamed for his absence, as that was owing to illness ; the author could not attend the^ rehearsals from the same cause, though even he could attend the first public representation ; and, with the further disadvantage of giving the respec- tive parts to the performers in an incomplete state, it cannot be surprising that a failure was the result, even without imputing misconduct any where. It is likely that a production so hastily composed was not altogether free from faults, and those of such a sort as to render its fate doubtful. Indeed, Miss FAR REN was so disgusted with her part that she refused to perform it after the first night; and on the next representation it was read by Mrs. POWELL. Upon the whole Mr. KEMBLE, though his con- duct does not exempt him from partial animadver- sion, cannot be justly accused of a more heinous offence than apparent indifference, the result, pro- bably, of nervous debility. So far from having a design to injure Mr. COLMAN, he appears to have consulted that gentleman's wishes in preference to his own better judgment, in prematurely causing D 3 8C MEMOIR OF the play to be acted. But be this as it may, that man is to be pitied who can conscientiously ap- prove the acrimonious libel and unmerited censure with which Mr. KEMBLE was assailed. Soon after our hero's return from his Irish tour, a new edition of the " Iron Chest" appeared, in which the original preface was omitted. It was hinted in the " Monthly Mirror," at the time that this new impression was occasioned by some ap- prehensions on the part of Mr. C . of personal castigation, though we have heard a different story. * In 1796, Mr. KEMBLE resigned the direction of the stage-business; but shortly afterwards re- sumed it. Mr. KEMBLE continued performing a variety of the finest characters of the drama, in London, Edinburgh, and Dublin, and other principal towns in the kingdom, with increasing admiration, and without a competitor. But he was now approach- * A reconciliation ultimately took place, for which, it is said, the gentlemen were mutually indebted, at least iu part, to accident. Meeting one day in the street, in such a way that they could not avoid a personal recognition, KEMBLE accosted COLMAN thus, "Ha, COLMAN! my dear fellow, can't we make up this little difference be- tween us ? come, come, let us have a bottle together." The name of a bottle conveyed a certain magical potency with it to the nerves of Mr. COLMAN, which that gentle- man was seldom known to withstand ; so to the tavern they immediately adjourned. Libations were devoutly quaffed to the jolly god ; mutual good humour prevailed, and be- fore they separated, Mr. COLMAN agreed to publish a new edition without the preface. Mr. KEMBLE, there- upon, exerted himself to purchase all the obnoxious copies without loss of time ; and indeed he was so successful, that their price was speedily enhanced from one to two guineas each ; at the present time a copy is but rarely to be met with. JOHN PHILIP KEMELE. 31 ing that period when a powerful rival entered the lists, and disputed with him the palm of victory. We, of course, allude to the late GEOHGE FREDE- RICK COOKE, a man whose mind was formed in one of Nature's noblest moulds ; his understanding was capacious, his judgment clear, his conceptions vigorous, and his memory retentive; but these fine qualities, which constitute the basis of all that is great in intellect and sublime in soul, this unfor- tunate man gradually impaired and destroyed by early and continued habits of dissipation. But, still, while admiration and pity have a tear to shed* let it flow to his memory ! Peace to his manes ! his grave is beyond the Atlantic ! he rests in the land of Washington ! It may not be amiss to introduce this extraordi- nary character to the reader by an anecdote from his Life, written by WILLIAM DUN LAP, Etq. While Mr. COOKE was sustaining his principal characters on the Dublin stage, prior to his engage- ment in London, Mr. KEMBLE paid a visit to the Irish capital. One evening during the perform- ance of the " Count of Narbonne," in which the former gentleman played Austin to the hitter's County the following dialogue, which may be re- garded as characteristic of each, took place behind the scenes : Mr. COOKE, you distressed me exceedingly in my last scene I could scarcely get on you did not give me the cue more than once; you very imperfect." " Sir, I was perfect." t Excuse me, Sir, you were not." By I was, Sir \" u You were not, Sir !" " I'll tell you what, I'll not have your faults fathered upon me ! and, d- n me, Black JACK, if MOIR OF ke you tremble in your pumps one of The threat held out in the last TC\ \rer the point of accomplishment, than ;ther of the pa: :ed at the time cred. On theSlst of October, 1809, Mr. COOKE, in the words of his biographer, " established 1 an actor, by the perform .ie arduous varied, an rought character of *' Richard a reception more fl-uteri- _ r did I n encouraging, indulgent, and warm approba- tion, than on t v and conclus: jnour king one of the audiv : ideed, a man whose powers were suiiicient to - rone; and our hero probably felt, for a moment, as shing like a drean. ;e he ha< ed alone Mr. Co -e less e!t _ and noble than Mr. KEMFLL could oc- :ially be more striking and eT. tures ^rre mo; . and subject to command ; better, and !.. tremely skiiiui in modulating it to the utmost ad- vantage. In parts such as Rich . and Ir. KF.MBLE could not hope to copt him; and acc>: .enable st; the crook-bat r - finally r, Mr. COOKE. His adapted to express all t \\ork- .f the soul, the projects of meditat Joomy desperati(;ri ceful cru- \vrre dark and n'try, at timts d.irti: -j; iurth ti.t JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. riblc -nncli less appearance ot si :,ora our hero h con- He rmd been in the metropolis nearly twenty years, building hirus*:. .ired j crumble to piec - racte rom him v chant of \ ^ been equally successful in tliat u ceeded by logo: but as Mr. KFMELE ha" attempted to <: had nee. But when the latter pc Mr. KEMRI i:'s torn I triumph; here be neath the splendour . the ought t a deeper Mr. KtMBLE, ho^ t - Penruddoi unrivalled. CCJI.L but once, and left .: finest personat, Happy would it have been forCo^KE if ir* peranct- had not clouded b .cely had : .Llic opiu: moment t actor, the shameful excesses to wi.-.- addicted, debased him to the 1 . . as a mau. * Mr. LTJGH !^ 34 MEM OIH OF The shock his first appearance had given Mr. KEMBLE'S popularity, that gentleman had speedy opportunities of retrieving; andjre did not neglect to avail himself of them. Jn the end, Mr. K.EMBLE maintained his pre-eminence, and COOKE fell a victim to his depraved courses. Previous to the season of 1801, Mr, KEMBLE. intimated his intention of again resigning his situa- tion as acting-number, unless he should be in- vested with more extensive powers than heretofore, which were promised him. His department in this capacity seems to have been to him a source of more than ordinary trouble; the concerns of the theatre Inning been long in a state approaching to bankruptcy, contentions between the performers, proprietors, rent-holders, and share-holders, in- creased to the most irreconcileable extent. It was at length found necessary to resort to legal mea- sures, to bring the disputes to a close, and disen- tangle the several interests. After an intricate and patient investigation, the Lord Chancellor re- commended that the house should be kept open ; and as the payment of the performers 7 salaries was a primary consideration, it being from their exer- tions only any beneficial results could be expected, that they should be attended to in the first instance. By his lordship's further interference, an amicable adjustment was effected; and Mr. KEMBLE, with others who had seceded, resumed their respective stations. From this time there does not appear any thing worthy of record till the close of the season, June 24, 1802, when Mr. KEMBI.E delivered the usual address, and retired, never again to gratify aii audience within the walls of Drury Lane The- atre. An intermission of hostilities between France and England having taken place, Mr. KEMBLE leftLoa^ JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 35 don, on Friday the 2d of July, for a tour to the Continent. He continued abroad for several months, visiting the principal cities of Spain and France. In Paris 'he experienced the most flat- tering reception ; the celebrated French actor TALMA paid him particular attention, and intro- duced him to the first circles of rank and fashion, and the literati. The following account of him is extracted from a French paper; it will serve to evince the homage that distinguished talents are sure to receive in all countries. " Mr. KEMBLE, the celebrated actcr of London, whose arrival at Paris has been announced by all the papers, is a fine figure, appears to be from 36 to 40 years of age, his hair dark, and the marked character of his features gives him a physiognomy truly tragic : he understands and speaks perfectly well the French language, but in company he appears to be thought- ful and incommunicative. His manners, however, are very distinguished, and he has in his looks, when he is spoken to, an expression of courtesy, that affords us the best idea of his education ; he is said to be well informed, and a particularly good grammarian, which must distinguish him from other English actors, who are more attentive to attitude than to diction. The Comedie Francaise lias re- ceived him with all the respect due to the Le Kaim of England; they have already given him a superb dinner, and mean to invite him to a still more bril- liant souper. TALMA to whom he had letters of re- commendation, does the honours of Paris; they visit together our finest w r orks, and appear to be already united by the most friendly ties. KEMBLE is frank enough to avow that our mode of theatrical declama- tion does not suit him, and that he thinks it too re- mote from nature; but he confesses that some of our actors have great talents. Before his departure they talk of playing Macbeth, Hamlet, and Romeo 36 MEMOIR OF and Juliet. This truly French gallantry will have the double advantage of doing honour to a whole people, in the person of their most celebrated tra- gedian, and of drawing great houses." He returned from the Continent about the month of March 1803, During his absence he had the misfortune to lose his father. Mr. -ROGER KEMBLE died December 6% 1802, in the 82d year of his age; after living to experience the gratification of seeing his children, particularly our hero and Mrs. SIDDONS, arrive at a noble height of fame and for- tune, by the fair exertion of talent and industry. He was a man more celebrated as a manager than as an actor, though in the latter capacity, it is said, he was a respectabte acquisition to provincial theatres. Mr. KEMBLE, on his return to England, pur- chased a sixth share in the property of the Theatre Royal Covent-Garden, for which he paid the sum of ofS-ljOOO. This arrangement, of course, in- duced him to quit Drury-Lane, and add the whole weight of his talents to the already powerful advan- tages of the rival house, with which his personal in- terest was now so immediately connected. The same cause produced also the desertion of Mrs. SIDDONS, and her consequent engagement at Covent-Garden, while poor Drury suffered, by the secession of these two great performers, a shock from which, in comparison with its rival, its de- cline for some years may be dated. It did not re- cover itself till the managers discovered the philo- sopher's stone, and an irresistible magnet of attrac- tion in the person of Mr. KEAN. At the present time its superiority is evident, and redounds infi- nitely to the credit of the gentlemen by whom its affairs are regulated. Mr. KEMBLE succeeded that admirable comedian and estimable man, the late Mr. LEWIS, as stage- JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 37 manager, and made his first appearance, in the early part of the season, as Hamlet. COOKE, KEMBLE, and Mrs. SIDDONS, at this time, frequently ap- peared together, thus forming a combination of talent, perhaps never equalled, certainly never sur- passed in the theatrical world. Mr. KEMBLE, on one occasion, honourably evinced the high sense in which he held his rival's powers, by performing the part of Richmond to COOKERS Gloster' 9 an instance of condescension which it would be desirable to see oftener repeated among performers. One man cannot be superior in every thing ; and if, by placing himself, at times, in a subordinate rank, he can improve general ex- cellence, or heighten individual enjoyment, he should not be too proud to be thus laudably engaged. Genius may sometimes descend from its elevated sphere, and be usefully employed in an inferior station, without loss of dignity, or diminution of lustre. Another circumstance, however, of a less agree- able nature, ought also, for the sake of impartiality, to be recorded. Stimulated by a pettiness of am- bition, unworthy of an exalted mind, he once at- tempted the character of Norval in the tragedy of " Douglas." This part was in the possession of Mr. MunRAY,a man of modest unassuming genius, who afforded, as its representative, general satis- faction. As KEMBLE could have been incited to this effort by no reasonable motive, nor could have derived any advantage from being successful but as his success might have tended to lower a deserv- ing man in public esteem, the result was such as might have been wished a complete failure. This trivial incident is scarcely entitled to be mentioned, but that trifles are important in biography. About this period the celebrated young Roseius> the wonder of hib day ! was acquiring an uncommon 38 MEMOIR OF share of applause in various provincial theatres; he consequently soon became an object of general celebrity, having previously caused his fame to spread over Ireland, where he made his debut, and whence he came to this country. The following account of him from the " Bio- graphia Britannica v is so just, explicit and concise, that no apology is necessary for introducing it in this place. u The first of December of this year (1804), will form a kind of era in the history of the British stage, as having brought before a London audience, a ju- venile actor, of very extraordinary acquirements, at Covent Garden Theatre, as Ac/imet, in " Barba- rossa:" we mean Master WILLIAM HENRY WEST. BETTY, who had but just attained his thirteenth year; but had, in his previous provincial course, obtained the imposing appellation of the YOUNG Roscius. The eagerness of the public to see this phenomenon was such, that three theatres might have been filled by the crowd that sought admission this evening, and many very serious accidents hap- pened to various individuals, by reason of the pres- sure at the different doors. Ills attraction was such, that he was soon engaged to perform alternately at Drury-Lane and Covent-Garden, at the former of \vhichthebillsalwaysannounced him as the YOUNG Roscius ; at the latter, without any such quackery, as Master BETTY. It were wholly incompatible with the design of this brief sketch, to enter at large on the performances of this young actor, whose company was courted by noble lords, who was kissed and caressed by noble dames, and who had even the honour of being introduced to His Grace the venerable Archbishop of York. Suffice it to say, that he afterwards performed Richard, Hamlet, Macbeth, Octavian, liomeo, Guslavas Vasa, Tan- cred, Osmyn, Zanga, and several other characters, JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 39 with various degrees of merit, but with astonishing success, receiving 50/., and latterly it is said 100/. per night for his performances. Master BETTY took his final leave of the public with a benefit at Drnry-Lane, May 17, 1806, after playing Tancred and Captain Flash." This young gentleman, however, was not the only theatrical phenomenon of the time, as on the 23d of November 1805, a Miss MUD IE, a child only eight years of age, made her appearance at Covent- Garden theatre, as an actress of first-rate comic parts! She too had found many admirers in the country, her provincial renown having prepared the way for her arrival in the metropolis; but the pro- ject was rather too ludicrous to succeed in Lon- don ; the public were growing tired of such novelties. She chose for her debut. Miss Peggy in " The Country Girl ;" in which her infantine appearance being contrasted with her confidence, deportment, accuracy,andintelligence, rendered the performance, so far as it went, really a curiosity. During the first scene or two, the audience were good-humoured ; but before the piece had proceeded far, they testified their contempt and indignation in the most unequivocal manner : shouts of laughter and derision frequently interrupted the actors, and at last not a word could be heard from the stage, such was the marked displeasure of the house. In the midst of the confusion. Miss MUDIE boldly ad- vanced towards the audience, and with a pertness of manner, as well as words, said " Ladies and Gentlemen, " I HAVE done nothing to offend you ; and as for those who are sent here ta hiss rae, / will be obliged to you to turn them out." Such a specimen of effrontery from a baby-can- didate, completely decided the pending issue of 40 MEMOIR OF this extraordinary experiment; some were violently exasperated; some were bursting with laughter: but to appease the general anger, Mr. Kemble presently came forward and said <( Gentlemen, " The great applause with which Miss MUDIE has been received at various provincial theatres, encouraged in her friends a hope, that her merit might be such as to pass the tribunal of your judgment (violent hisses.) Be assured however, Gentlemen, that the proprietors of this theatre by no means wish to press any species of entertainment upon you, which may not meet your most perfect approbation, (loud applause.) If therefore you will permit Miss MUDIE " (no ! no !) Mr. Kemble could not be heard for some time ; but at last neatly resumed f( The Drama's laws the Drama's patrons give." " We hope, however, that as the play has proceeded so far, you will allow Miss MUDIE to finish the character. (No ! no! was vociferated from all parts of the house.)" Finding this of no avail, Mr. KEMBLE tried his success with the female part of the assemblage, by saying with emphasis " Ladies and Gentlemen, " Let me entreat that you will allow Miss MUDIE to finish her part ; perhaps when you are informed that after this night Miss MUDIE will be withdrawn from the stage, you will be induced to comply." This last appeal seemed to produce the desired effect, but the calm was deceitful ; for, upon the next appearance of the child, the uproar was re- newed with such violence, that she was compelled to retire, Mr. MUKRAY finally announced, that JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 41 Miss SEARLE would finish the part ; and thus tran- quillity was restored. From this time the public began to return to their former favourites; to be delighted with the inimitable talents ofCooKE, the classic judgment of KEMBLE, and the sublime genius of SIODONS. In April 1807, Mr. KEMBLE lost his mother. In the early part of her life, like most of the KEMBLE family, she had been on the stage, but was not an actress of much note. Had she not given birth to a race gifted with superior endowments than was possessed by the parent stock, she would probably have lived and died in the same obscurity which enveloped her progenitors. In the following year he experienced a severe indisposition, which for some time prevented his appearance in public: his return to the stage upon the 19th of April, on the restoration of his health, as Octavian in the " Mountaineers," was greeted with manifestations of the most enthusiastic delight. About this period his salary varied from 50/. to 751. per week. On the 20th of September following, Mr. KEM- BLE'S theatrical property, in common with that of his colleagues, was totally destroyed by the burning of the theatre. The season had just began, only four nights having elapsed, on the last of which were repre- sented " Pizarro/'and " The Portrait of Cervantes." The performances were over about eleven o'clock. Mr. BRANDON, as housekeeper, examined the in- terior of the edifice, according to his usual custom, and found every thing apparently safe, before he retired to bed, But about four o'clock in the morning, the building was discovered to be on fire : and, in consequence of considerable delay in pro- curing water, the flames rapidly extended ; in three hours the whole theatre was destroyed. A part of i 3 43 MEMOIR OF the library only, and a few trumpery remnants of scenery, were all that was rescued from destruc- tion. The damage to the proprietors was estimated at a large amount : the property was insured for 58,000/> Some idea of the immense body of fire, on this melancholy occasion, may be formed from the fact of the heat being sensibly felt at the east end of LincolnVInn-Fields. But the most serious calamity attending this mis- fortune was, the loss of nearly thirty lives, by the fall of a part of the burning ruins : the persons who thus perished were partly firemen ; but many of the unfortunate beings merely came as spectators, and when present, voluntarily assisted to extinguish the devouring element. Among those who were killed was a young man, an apprentice to a re- spectable butcher in Paternoster-Row, and who was, on the lapse of a short period, to have been married; his death was so deeply lamented by the young woman to whom he was attached, that she was disconsolate a length of time afterwards. The exact amount of the loss sustained by Mr. K.EMBLE is not publicly ascertained : it was indeed insinuated, that in the end he would prove rather a gainer than a loser. But whatever loss he might have originally apprehended, his own share of mis- fortune was greatly lightened, by a very handsome and timely loan of 10,000/. from His Grace the Duke of Northumberland, whose son, Earl Percy, had been instructed by Mr. KEMBLE in a know- * Among the losses sustained by individuals, may be mentioned that of Mr. Munden, whose wardrobe was consumed ; in the catalogue of articles which it contained, was an extensive collection of wigs, valued at about 100/. It may also be noticed, that the scarcity of old play- bills was so great, after the fire, that a *et was sold for 30 1. JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 43 cke of the principles of elocution. This pecuniary transaction appears to have been highly honourable to both parties, the Duke's generosity being un- solicited ; and to complete the value and graceful- ness of the obligation, His Grace returned Mr. KEMBLE'S bond for the money, desiring him to make an illumination with it, on laying the first stone of the new theatre ! This munificent conduct was worthy of the illustrious House of Percy. The proprietors having hired, for a short time, the King's Theatre, the company from Covent- Garden commenced their performances at that house on the 26th of September, when Mr. KEMBLE, in a full court dress, delivered the following oration, which as an elegant, a luminous, and grammatical appeal, is certainly an unique composition. " Ladies and Gentlemen, " / know not bow to express the very sincere feel- ings with which / stand before you on the present occa- sion ; and / am equally ignorant how to thank you for the very flattering marks of your favour with which / am now, and hare long been honoured. 1 feel / shall not be able to state, in the collected manner / could wish, the object for which / at present stand btfore you, and / beg you to impute that failure to any other cause than a want of respect to those whom / have the honour of addressing. " Ladies and Gentlemen, Immediately after the late destruction of the Theatre Royal in Covent-Ganlen, / trust the proprietors paid that humane attention to its workmen and dependants, to which they were justly en- titled ; and / also trust they have lost no time in pre- paring to resume their share of contributions to the amusements of this metropolis, by engaging and fitting up for your reception, the house in which we are now assembled, ffe have, however, to ask great indul- gencies at yonr hands, and we must be forgiven if we do not represent the productions of our poets, with all those illusions of scenery, habits, and decorations, which the 44 MEMOIR OF proprietors formerly spared no expense to provide, and no occasion to bring forward. In the theatre of the Italian opera, to which we have been compelled to have recourse, we are naturally not so well provided to give life to the works of our native poets, and we must make large drafts upon your indulgence. Permit me, however, to state, that we shall make daily progress in bettering our present provision, and shall immediately set about to erect a new theatre, such as we think will be worthy of the metropolis where it is situated, in which we hope to be able to receive you by next September." -[Times Newspaper, Sept. 27, 1808.] Judging from this specimen, he must be a bold flatterer who would reckon among Mr. KEMBLE'S accomplishments that of oratory. The Covent-Garden company continued their exertions at the Opera-House till the 5th of No- vember, when they removed to the Little Theatre, Haymarket, for the remainder of the season. On the 24th of February following, only a few- days more than five months after the destruction of one theatre, its rival Drury experienced a similar fatality. At the time of the conflagration, Mr. SHERIDAN, whose interest was so largely involved, was in his place in the House of Commons, where it was kindly proposed, from a feeling of sympathy, by Mr. Elliot and the then Earl Temple, that the debate should be adjourned. But Mr. SHERIDAN had sufficient fortitude to reply, " that however lamentable the event might be as to himself, lie thought it not of such a nature as ought to interrupt the business of the nation." Most of the members, however, immediately left the House, and repaired to Westminster-Bridge, whence they had a fine view of the awful spectacle. The red flickering glare cast by the reflection of the flames on the Thames, and on the houses and steeples, over a wide space, owing to the great height of the blazing JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 45 edifice, presented a singularly striking and sublime scene to the spectator. The appearance of London on this memorable night, is as truly as it is beau- tifully described in the following lines, from Lord Byron's Address on the opening of New Drury. " Ye who beheld, oh sight, admired and mourn'd, Whose radiance inocked the ruin it adorn'd ! Through clouds of fire the massy fragments riven, Like Israel's pillar chased the night from heaven ; Saw the long column of revolving flames Shake its red shadow o'er the startled Thames, While thousands throng'd around the burning dome, Shrank back appalled, and trembled for their home ; As glared the volumed blaze and ghastly shone The skies with lightnings awful as their own Till black'ning ashes, and the lonely wall, Usurp'd the Muse's realm, and mark'd her fall !" The magnitude of the loss occasioned by this severe catastrophe was immense ; indeed, all the interests embarked in the concern were so entirely overwhelmed and depressed by the fate of the build- ing, that it appeared utterly impracticable to re- unite them, for the purpose of constituting a new establishment. The remains of the shattered pro- perty would probably have continued in ruins to this day, but for the generous interposition and ac- tive exertions of the late lamented Mr. Whitbread. He it was who undertook the Herculean task of disentangling the perplexed affairs of the theatre, and of extricating, as much as possible, all parties from their embarrassed situation. His name, his influence, his character, and his unremitted efforts, inspired confidence, and insured success. Meanwhile, the most strenuous endeavours were being made by the proprietors of the late theatre in Covent-Garden, to rebuild that structure on an en- larged and more magnificent scale. The first stone 46 MEMOIR OF was laid on Saturday, December 31, 1808, with much state and ceremony, by His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, accompanied by the Duke of Sussex, and attended by many persons of the first rank and distinction. A grand lodge of free-masons was held at Freemason's Hall, specifically for this purpose; the members of which, to the number of 400, went on foot in procession from Queen-Street, at half past twelve, and arrived at Bow-Street a little before one, at which hour exactly His Royal Highness appeared. The Prince was received by the Earl of Moira, as Acting Grand Master, and by Mr. KEMBLE and Mr. HARRIS at the head of the other gentlemen. The bands immediately played God save the King, and a royal salute was fired. His Royal Highness then proceeded to lay the base- ment stone, with the usual formality: John Bay- ford, Esq. (Grand Treasurer) having deposited in a cavity prepared in the stone, a box containing a series of the coins of the present reign, together with two large medals, one of bronze, bearing a head of His Royal Highness on one side, and on the other the following inscription GEORGIUS. PRINCEPS WALLIARUM. THEATRI. REGIS INSTAURANDI AUSPICIIS. IN HORTIS BENEDICTINIS. LONDINI. FUNDAMENTA. Sua Maim Locavit. M.DCCC.VIII. The other medal, engraved on copper, bore on one side, ROBERT SMIRKE, Architect. JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 47 On the reverse was engraven Under the Auspices of His most sacred Majesty GEORGE III. King of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, The Foundation-Stone of the Theatre, Covent Garden,. Was laid by His Royal Highness GEORGE PRINCE OF WALES, M.DCCC.VIII. There was also on a part of the stone, u Long live George Prince of Wales/' and " To the King," with a medallion of the prince. His Royal Highness having expressed his wishes for the prosperity of the undertaking, another salute was fired, and the business concluded amidst the cheers of the spec- tators. During the ceremony, detachments of the life and foot guards patroled the streets, and lined the area. The united zeal and labour of the great number of workmen employed, under the direction of Mr. Copeland, the builder, enabled the proprietors to complete their undertaking, at an expense of 150,000/., and open the house for performance on Monday, September 18, 1809, in less than twelve months from the date of the destruction of the old, and in ten months from that of the foundation of the new theatre. We have now come to an extraordinary epoch in theatrical history. The cirumstances of the dispute, distinguished by the name of the O. P. contest, be- tween the managers of Covent-Garden Theatre and the public, are so well known, that we shall dismiss them with as much brevity as possible. Some ac- count of this memorable disturbance is, however, necessary ; our object must therefore be to shorten 48 MEMOIR OF the details, excluding a great portion of minute and unimportant matter. Immediately after the destruction of the old theatre, rumours were circulated, that it was the intention of the proprietors to raise the prices of admission; and it was expected that this inten- tion would be put in effect on the removal of the company to the King's Theatre. A spirit of re- sistance was however excited against the proposed increase, which was considered an imposition, and the design, at least for the present, was abandoned. The manager however resolved to avail himself of the first opportunity. Previously to the opening of the new theatre therefore, it was announced that the price to the boxes would be seven shillings instead of six, and to the pit four shillings instead of three shillings and sixpence. It was also understood the number of private boxes was increased. Thus were ma- terials collected, which were soon to explode in thunder. The pieces selected for the first night were, the tragedy of " Macbeth/' and the entertainment of " The Quaker." An immense crowd assembled at an early hour of the day, and which kept continually increasing until the doors were opened. The rush was then violent in the extreme; but large as the theatre was, it could only contain a very small portion of the throng which anxiously strove for admittance. Those who had the good fortune to get in, were instantly struck with admiration at the sudden beauty and splendour of the scene, and the effect being also heightened by contrast with the gloomy streets and passages in which many of the audience had been waiting, perhaps for hours, amidst the suffocating pressure of the throng, to them the change was really enchanting. A more superb or JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 4 Brilliant coup d'ceil it would be difficult for the mind to conceive. Yet this spot, on which so much care and expense had been successfully lavished, to make it, in appearance, almost an earthly paradise, was destined shortly to become a very Pandemonium a rendezvous of beings resembling demons the at- tractive focus of every species of discord. God save the King, and Rule Britannia having been sung, Mr. KEMBLE made his appearance, dressed for Macbeth, and spoke an Address written by Horace Twiss, but which has nothing to recom- mend it for insertion. A dreadful storm imme- diately commenced; Mr. KEMBLE'S voice was en- tirely lost in the tremendous peal by which he was saluted. The subjects of complaint were four, two of which have been already mentioned, namely- the advance of prices, and the additional private boxes ; the others were, the engagement of Madame CATALAN i, and the awkward construction of the up- per gallery, which had theappearanceof pigeon holes. The most indignant hostility was now manifested by the audience, who expressed, by the loudest vocifera- tions from all parts of the house, their resolution to ob- tain a redressof what they considered theirgrievances. Mr. KEMBLE endeavoured, by the most submissive and imploring manner, to be heard, but in vain; he was at length obliged to withdraw, amidst shouts of hisses, groans, and execrations. The discontent of the audience (if it be not a misnomer to style such an assemblage as now filled the house by that appellation,) was evinced, with but little intermission, during the whole evening. The play and the players were equally disregarded ; not a syllable from "the stage was heard by pit, boxes, or galleries; during the acts the audience stood up covered, with their backs to the curtain, and regularly sat down to recruit their strength as soon as the drop-scene fell. But while the play 50 MEMOIR OF proceeded, all seemed occupied in contriving and executing methods of annoyance. Amidst the chaotic din issuing from so many brazen throals, numerous exclamations were distinctly heard, when uttered in a pause of comparative cairn, or when roared by the happy few, whose stentorian lungs surpassed those of their compeers. " Off! off! No private boxes ! No pigeon holes ! No Catalani ! No spangle* boxes! * While the stormy winds do blow!' Off! off!" &c. &c. resounded from every corner of the theatre. The tumult at length increased to such a pitch, that several Bow-Street magistrates appeared upon the stage ; one of whom took a paper from his pocket, understood to be the riot act, which how- ever was not read. This imprudent step provoked still greater irritation; and the reception which these gentlemen experienced was such as they justly merited. They had no reason to complain of not being warmly greeted. The house was not cleared of its noisy visitors until two o'clock in the morn- ing. Thus passed the first night. The performances on the second evening were, " The Beggar's Opera," and " Is he a Prince ?" As soon as the curtain was drawn up, the opposition manifested itself as violently as on the preceding night; and with but little variation in the manner of proceeding, except by the introduction of placards with suitable inscriptions, some of which were hu- mourous enough. These insignia became on the succeeding evenings so numerous, that they almost entirely covered the pit, and the lower tier of boxes; and were found excellent vehicles for countless wit- ticisms and pasquinades. The contest continued six nights, without inter- ruption ; in which time several gentlemen, among The cant phrase for a seven-shilling piece. JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 51 whom was J. P. Smith, Esq. addressed the audience, and exhorted them to persevere in a determined but not a riotous manner by such conduct, the proprie- tors, he said, would be compelled, in the end, to re- linquish their unjust demands. Mr. KEMBLE was nightly called for,and asked whether he would con- cede to the public voice; but as his answers were not satisfactory, he was dismissed with signs of uni- versal contumely. In one of these interviews, Mr. KEMBLE thought proper, in no very elegant phra- seology, to meet the question of the public by an interrogatory of his own. Having come to the front of the stage, he said " Ladies and Gentlemen, May I beg leave to ask what it is you want ? " This was appropriately answered by mingled cries of " You know what we want ; the question is in- sulting." " Off! off!" To incense the town still more, constables, Bow-Street officers, and ruffians of every description, particularly fighting Jews, were hired to intimidate and maltreat the discontented. The trap-doors used in pantomimes, &c. were opened to receive any luckless adventurer, who might have attempted to make his debut without managerial sanction ; and fire-engines were placed in an imposing manner on the stage. On the other side, placards, bugle horns, rattles, dustmen's bells, whistles, wooden trumpets, &c. &c. were put in requisition, and produced the concordia discors with unrivalled effect. On the sixth night, terms of accommodation were proposed by Mr. KEMBLE; the purport of them was, that a Committee of Gentlemen should be appointed to examine the books of the theatre, and to decide on the necessity of the late altera- tions. Mr. KEMBLE at the same time intimated, that the engagement with Madame Catalani was F2 2 MEMOIR OF cancelled. The house was then closed till the de- cision of the Committee should be made known. The theatre, in about ten days, was re-opened, it having been advertised that the report of the Com- rnitttee, which consisted of the following gentlemen, namely, John Sylvester, Esq. (Recorder), Sir Thomas Plomer, (Solicitor-General), John Whitrnore, Esq. (Governor of the Bank), J. J. Angerstein, Esq. and Sir Charles Price, Bart. was in favour of the proprietors. The contention was therefore renewed with redoubled ardour. Many persons were taken by the officers before the ma- gistrates, for wearing the letters O. P. in their hats, and for shouting, &c. and compelled to give heavy bail. Among others, HENRY CLIFFORD, Esq. a barrister, was seized by order of Mr. BRANDON, and conveyed to Bow-Street ; but the magistrates did not think proper to order his committal. He consequently brought an action against Mr. BRAN- DON, for an alleged assault and false imprisonment, which was tried before Sir J. MANSFIELD, in the Court of Common Pleas, on the 5th of December. Mr. Serjeant BEST was for the plaintiff, and Mr. Serjeant SHEPHERD for the defendant. The jury gave a verdict of 5/. damages ! thus setting at nought the opinion of the judge, who declared that Mr. CLIFFORD'S conduct was illegal. Westminster-Hall rang with the applause that accompanied this ver- dict; the noise was so loud, that Lord ELLEN- BOROUGH, who was at that moment summing up in the neighbouring Court, was obliged to stop, and clapped both his hands upon his ears. Mr. KEMBLE, (who was subprenaed,) and Mr. HARRIS were present at the close of this memorable trial. The Proprietors henceforth began to show them- JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE. 53 selves tractable. At an O. P. dinner shortly after- wards at the Crown and Anchor Tavern, Mr. KEMBLE was present, and an amicable arrangement was effected, upon the following terms : 1. " That the private boxes should be reduced to the same state as they were in the year 1802. 2. " That the pit should be 3s. 6d. the boxes, 7s. 3. " That an apology should be made on the part of the Proprietors, to the public, and Mr. BRANDON dismissed. 4. " That all prosecutions and actions, on both sides, should be abandoned." These propositions being accepted, harmony was restored, with the exception of a slight rolling of the waves, after such a terrible tempest. The op- position lasted sixty-six nights. Mr. Brandon, who had made himself particularly obnoxious, was com- pelled to resign, but was soon suffered to be re- instated. Of the effusions, written and verbal, to which the O. P. war gave birth, some possessed ingenuity and merit ; but the generality, like most pieces oa temporary and local subjects, were contemptible. We have subjoined a few of the best of these trifles in a note *. * *' John Kcmble alone is the cause of this riot, When he lowers his prices, John Bull will be quiet." " Silence, Sirs, King John's head aitches." The following is the conclusion of a parody on " THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT." * This is the Manager, lull of scorn, who raised the prices to the people forlorn, and directed the thief-taker, shaven and shorn, to take up John Bull with his bugle-horn, who hissed the CAT engaged to squall to the poor in the pigeon-holes over 54 MEMOIR OF Through the whole of this civil warfare, it was highly to the credit of the public, that no outrages? the boxes, let to the great that visit the house that JACK built/ ' O. P. expects each man will do his duty/ " Since potent hisses prove the public mind, Which has of late been of the hissing kind ; Let those hiss now who never hiss'd before And those who've always hiss'd now hiss the more/* " The Times and Post are bought and sold, To Keuible's pride, and Kemble's gold." " The third floor of this house to be let, with con- veniences." L. L.