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ILLUSTRATIONS OF IRISH TOPOGRAPHY.--No. XXVI. (From Original MS. Collections.]

BOYLE.

THE town of BOYLE is situated, in a Parish and Barony of the same name, in the County of Roscommon. It lies 9 miles N. W. of Elphin, and 84 from Dublin, and has been returned in 1821, as comprising 467 houses, and a population of 3,407 persons. In the Irish Parliament it had two representatives; the patronage being then in the Earl of Kingston.

The river on which it stands, and which is commonly called the river of Boyle, takes its rise in the romantic waters of Lough Gara, whence, meandering through woods and dales, it discharges the superfluous waters of that lake, by a rapid descent of current into the yet more lovely bosom of Lough Key.Emerging thence this picturesque stream leads its tributary waters into the Shannon. There are two good stone bridges over this river at Boyle; on one of which is placed a pedestrian statue of King William the Third. The abbots of Boyle had no less than 24 eel weirs at stated places on this stream.

one of the most striking peculiarities of the house consists in its
perfectly insulated position, no office of any description being
visible, but the whole being surmounted by smooth shorn grass,
interspersed with beds of flowers, and ornamented walks. This
arrangement has been effected by having most of the offices of
the basement story covered over, and subterranean passages
carried from underneath the eminence on which the house stands
towards the lake in one direction, and in another towards the
stables, which stand at a considerable distance, screened out by
trees; the covered passage, however, does not reach the whole
way to the latter, but merely far enough to prevent the appear-
The whole
ance of movement near the mansion.
building is executed in the most substantial style, and its in-
terior displays not merely the elegancies, and luxuries, which
great wealth has every where at command; but at the same
time all those comforts, and accommodations, which contribute
so essentially to the enjoyments of every-day life in a family re-
sidence. The material of which the exterior walls are composed
is neither more nor less than marble, of which every doubt is
removed by a specimen of the stone, shaped into an ornamented
form and polished to the highest, exhibited on the half-landing
of the great stair-case. Several of the chimney-pieces of the
rooms in the upper stories are formed of the same material,
and show a fine polish. The stone was raised from a quarry on
his lordship's estate, at a few miles distance."

I have extracted this notice from the work of Mr. Isaac Weld, a gentleman whose descriptive powers have, heretofore, rendered even the scenery of Killarney more attractive, and whose recently published "SURVEY OF THE COUNTY ROSCOMMON" is written in a style as interesting as it is instructive; and, while it contains such a well-arranged collection of local information, as renders it most necessary to the gentlemen of the county, to which it more especially appertains, is withal a most satisfactory source of information to all who should feel an interest in the advancement of Ireland.

The town has an excellent Church, a Charity-School, a Free-School, a Military-School, and a Barrack for a troop of horse. On the north side of the river, a little eastward of the town, stand the remains of THE ABBEY, of which two views are here furnished-one of the exterior, and the other of the interior. It was once one of the finest buildings in the kingdom, and, even in its present fallen but picturesque condition, is signally creditable to the architectural taste and skill of our countrymen previous to the English invasion. "Its ruins," says Mr. Bell, "consist of nave, choir and transepts, with a lofty square tower steeple, in the centre of the cross. The south side of the nave is formed by a range of four lofty circular arches, supported by round piers, or columns, of considerable thickness. These columns sustain a lofty wall, on that side overgrown with ivy, and are still ornamented with some beautifully carved corbels which once supported the vaulted roof."The great arches that supported the tower, were 48 feet high, three of them being circular, while the fourth singularly formed a pointed arch; the bases of these columns were for many years concealed, under strata of accumulating rubbish, until about fifteen years since when Captain Robertson, in whose garden this venerable pile is situated, and who has obligingly fur-growing interest in Irish amelioration. While it is much to be nished the sketches of its present state to the Publishers of this work, carefully removed the rubbish, and gave to view these bases of the columns, which may now be seen beautifully traced with various ornamental devices, each studiously differing from the other, and all equally beautiful.

The eastern window was particularly admired, consisting of three pointed arches divided by mullions, with decorated heads, all tolerably perfect. Of the capitals some are plain, others ornamented with carving. The walls round the nave were perforated with a triforium, which opens into the body of the building, through various small circular arches, still traceable behind the ivy. The entrance was at the western end, by a small pointed arched door. The stone used throughout in its construction is of the firmest grain. Close to it the stump of a round tower is said once to have been visible. Grose gives two views of the Abbey.

Immediately adjacent to the town is Rockingham House, the enchanting seat of Lord Lorton, surrounded by a demesne of gently undulating ground, which nature and art have vied in rendering attractive; while immediately below the house extend the lovely waters of Lough Key, interspersed with several islands, some of which are adorned with the remains of castles, which time has conquered, and nature, resuming her empire, has clothed in the richest livery of ruin, others are shaded with lofty trees, and wave in perpetual verdure; while yet, more have a higher and holier claim, upon the attention, from their venerable relics of pristine piety, and the numerous records and events with which they are associated. If any future sketch of this Lake, or of any of its architectural ornaments, shall invite me to recal its scenery, now almost fading from my memory, I will feel great satisfaction in selecting its records from my collections, and registering them in this literary repository. For the present I must confine myself to the following extract, descriptive of the House.

It is most creditable to the patriotism of the Royal Dublin Society, who, while the government of the country, unfortunately as yet, overlooks the utility of guiding the intellect of Ireland into rational and legitimate channels, and while the only Irish University is not constituted to advance it, judiciously allocates a great proportion of its funds to promote the regretted that the scope of works, published under their auspices, necessarily precludes any extended illustrations either antiquarian or historical. That, above noticed, although rich as a County Survey is consequently too meagre as a history. I cannot resign the subject without offering my most sincere thanks to this most useful body, for the facility they have at all times afforded myself of inspecting and extracting from their MSS. and rare works, a favor which the late lamented librarian, Mr. Cradock, by his zealous and obliging manner rendered even more grateful and effective.

The union of Boyle extends over 21,855 acres of land, and comprises eight parishes; that of Boyle, properly so called, contains 6,378 acres, according to Strafford's survey, and its population, according to the census of 1821, was 7,774 persons. It has compromised for tithes at £166 3s. Od. to the lay impropriator, and £147 13s. 10d. to the incumbent. There is a glebe-house, within the parish, on a glebe of three roods, quite near the church, and there are also twenty other acres of glebe, also within the parish, about a mile from the church. The barony of Boyle was the ancient district of Moylurg, once the inheritance of the Mac Dermotts. It contains thirteen parishes, 434 townlands, and 41,817 acres, by Strafford's survey. Its extent, however, is more correctly laid down by the county map as 65,137 acres of arable, 25,548 of bog, and 3,598 covered with water. Its population, by the census of 1821, was 53,375 persons.

450, About this time, St. Patrick is recorded to have crossed the river of Boyle hereabouts, in his progress through the "wooded region of Moylurg."

560, Adamnan, in his life of Columba, furnishes at this year an interesting testimony to the music of "The Land of Song," connected with the scenery of this vicinity: "St. Columba was sitting on a certain day," says the holy biographer, "surrounded by his brethren, on the banks of Lough Key, and near the "The architecture is irregular, neither wholly castellated, nor place where the river of Boyle flows into that lake, when a wholly Grecian. The entrance is under an Ionic portico of four certain Irish poet, who appears to have been at the moment columns, corresponding with which a range of other pillars, of affected by some misfortune, came up to them, and after a the same order and proportion appears along the walls of the short conversation, with them, departed. Why,' inquired the house: producing, from certain points of view, a pleasing effect. companions of Columba, of their master as they watched the An extensive orangery projects from the house on another side:receding steps of the bard, why did you not entreat him to

sing, according to the sweet modulations of his art.' 'Ah,' replied the saint, "wherefore did you utter these unthinking words. How could I seek a song of joy from one in such a heaviness of sorrow." The incident cannot fail to recal the magnificent thought of the Psalmist,

"How shall we tune our voice to sing,
Or touch our harps with skilful hands;
Shall hymns of joy to God our king

Be sung by slaves,-on foreign lands." Soon after this Columba, possibly influenced by the beauty of the surrounding scenery, founded the first religious establishment here, which, having been raised near a cataract, (eas,) about a mile from where the river enters Lough Key, was hence called Eas-mac-n-Eirc.

748, Died Fursey, head of this monastery.

1161, The more modern Cistercian Abbey was founded here; a filial establishment to that of Melifont, from which its monks were transplanted. It was dedicated to the Virgin; and its abbots were frequently styled bishops, but had not the dignity of spiritual peers, nor from the ancient principles in which the parliamentary representations originated, were they entitled to a seat in that assembly.

1171, Peter O'Mordha, who had been the first abbot of this house, and was advanced to the see of Clonfert, was drowned in the Shannon.

1196, Conor Mac Dermott, Lord of Moylurg, took on him the Cistercian habit, and became a monk in this abbey. 1218, The abbey church was consecrated.

1236, The monks, of this house, having been suspected of aiding the King of Connaught, to dispossess the English, the Lord Justice Fitz-Gerald, Hugh de Lacy, and Richard de Burgo, encamped within the walls of the abbey, broke its crypts, and sacrilegiously seized all the goods, holy vestments, and chalices, and even stripped the monks of their habits, in the midst of their cloisters. They likewise devastated the surrounding country; "destroyed," add the Irish Annals, "the tower of Glenfearna, and carried their spoils to Ardcarny, where the Lord Justice threw up a fortification, and sojourned, until his departure for Thomond."

1243, Teigue O'Conor came hither at the head of some forces, and proceeding to the house of Mac Dermott, forcibly carried off his wife, and gave her as a hostage to O'Reilly, whose prisoner he had been, though it would appear, released on the condition of this service.

1250, Died Donogh O'Daly, abbot of Boyle, he was a very celebrated poet, and hymnist, and has been styled the Ovid of Ireland, from the sweetness of his verse. He has left behind him several excellent poems, chiefly on divine subjects, some of which, even to the present day, are familiarly repeated by the people, in various parts of the country, while others are extant in writing, in several repositories. "The publication of these," says Mr. Hardiman, "would be a considerable, and valuable addition to our native literature."

1253, The daughter of the Earl of Ulster, wife of Milo Costello, was interred in this abbey.

1262, Thomas Mac Ferral Mac Dermott, abbot of this house, was advanced to the see of Elphin.

.

1263, Angus O'Comyn, bishop of Achonry, having voluntarily resigned his see, died in this abbey, worn out with age and infirmities.

1290, Laurence O'Loughnan, abbot of Boyle, was promoted to the bishopric of Kilmacduagh.

1296, Melaghlin Mac Brian, abbot of Boyle, was advanced to the see of Elphin.

1303, Donat O'Flanigan, abbot of Boyle, was advanced to the see of Elphin. "He was a man," says Ware, “in great reputation for his wisdom, hospitality, and other virtues."

1309, There was a great hosting by Donogh O'Brien, to the assistance of William de Burgo, in Connaught. They then proceeded to the Abbey of Boyle, and destroyed a great quantity of corn in the surrounding country.

1315, The abbey was plundered by Rory O'Couor. 1331, Maolruny Mac Dermott, Lord of Moylurg, resigned his Lordship, and took upon him, in this abbey, the habit of

the order.

1342, Dermott Roe, son of Cormac Oge Mac Dermott, died here, in the Cistercian habit.

1398, Ferral Mac Dermott, Lord of Moylurg, plundered the Abbey of Boyle.

1444, The abbot of this house died at Rome.

1449, Cornelius, abbot of Boyle, was promoted, by the Pope, to the see of Achonry, 4

1458, Mac Dermott, King of Moylurg, was interred here. 1569, Queen Elizabeth demised this abbey with its appurtenances, messuages, gardens, and orchards, 200 acres of arable, and 160 of mountain pasture, in the townland of Boyle, besides three castles, forty-four cottages, 540 acres of arable land, and 729 acres of mountain and rough pasture, in various small denominations, and severally lying in Clanrickard, and in the countries of O'Fallon, O'Conor Roe, and Mac Rannell, (Reynolds,) to Patrick Cusac of Gerardstown, County of Meath, at the annual rent of £4 Irish, with a clause of re-entry. By subsequent records the several rights of the abbey, and of the patentees of its possessions in the above districts, are more distinctly ascertained. The recital, however, would be a matter more of individual than public interest. It also appears by these documents that the abbot had landed property in the county of Dublin, as also in tithes as well as lands in the county of Galway.

1589, The lease of 1569 having been forfeited, a new demise of the abbey, with its better ascertained possessions, was granted to William Usher, at the annual rent of £14 16s. 4d.

1595, Tyrone besieged this place with an army of 2,300 men, composed of Irish and Scottish islanders, and in the same year, Red Hugh O'Donnel with a large party of his adherents led a hosting over the river of Boyle, on which occasion Sir Richard Bingham, then governor of Connaught, ordered his various and detached forces to collect and meet him at Boyle, where he expected to intercept O'Donnel in his way to his own country. O'Donnel, however, disappointed him, by crossing the Shannon into Leitrim, at the ford of Kill-trenain, and thus carried off, without interruption, into Tyrconnell the prey which he had acquired in Connaught.

1597, Boyle was the rendezvous of the army of Sir Conyers Clifford, amounting to twenty-two regiments of infantry and ten of cavalry, armed with coats of mail, and all arms, ammunition, and other necessaries for the purpose of opposing Red Hugh, and marching into Tyrconnel.

1599, The Abbey of Boyle surrendered to the Irish.

1601, Richard, Earl of Clanrickard, having been encouraged by the English to make an attack upon the territories of O'Donnel, the Lord Justice, (Mountjoy,) commanded the English garrisons in Limerick, Kilmallock, Galway, Athlone, &c. to join him at the monastery of Boyle.

1603, A grant was made of the Abbey of Boyle, with its immediate appurtenances, to Sir John King, ancestor of the Earl of Kingston and Viscount Lorton, which was confirmed in 1618, with the privilege of holding Courts Baron and Leet, and other rights, and about the same time, and immediately subsequently, sundry inquisitions, and records, have ascertained its various possessions, in the Counties of Galway, Sligo, and Roscommon, as well in lands as in tithes, rectories, vicarages, weirs, &c.

1604, About this time King James granted a charter to the town of Boyle, by which it is still governed.

1613, John Cusack and Robert Meredith were the members of parliament for this borough.

1635, Lord Strafford wrote from the Abbey of Boyle, to Mr. Secretary Coke, informing him of the progress he was making in his infamous project of overturning the titles to all the Connaught estates. In this letter he expresses his appre hensions of an opposition, which he afterwards met with in the prosecution of his plan, from the County of Galway, concerning which he makes the following observation, "For certain it is a country which lies out at a corner by itself, and all the inhabitants wholly natives and papists, hardly an Englishman among them, whom they kept out with all the industry in the world, and, therefore, it would be of great security that they were thoroughly lined with Englishmen, indeed."

1639, Sir Robert King and Richard Wingfield, Esq. were the members of parliament for this borough.

1641, Sir Robert King was appointed constable of the castle of Boyle. There are various records connected with the forfeitures of this period, and those of 1688, that we will not conjure from the deep oblivion which time has flung over them, and modern policy forbids to be too far explored.

1687, Boyle was one of the corporations newly erected by King James the Second, on the surrender of its former rights. On this occasion Bryan, the son of Henry Mac Dermott, was appointed its burgomaster, and nineteen burgesses were created, of whom seven were Mac Dermotts.

1689, Sarsfield marched through Boyle on his way to Sligo. 1695, Sir Edward Crofton and John King, Esq. were members of parliament for this borough.

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of age his limbs unfitted him for public appearance, and it was only by a timely aid of bracing irons that they were restored to symmetrical appearance. He remained in this theatre till his fifth year, when a ludicrous accident occurred, which caused him to quit this temple of Thespis. It is thus recorded by one of his biographers :

'Mr. Kemble, wishing to increase the effect of the incantation scene in Macbeth, resolved that "black spirits and white, blue spirits and grey," should be introduced in propriá persona before the audience. For that purpose a number of children were appointed to personate these fantastical creations, who were to dance in a circle while the Witches were moving round the cauldron. Among the number selected for this purpose young Kean was of course employed, as being accustomed to the business of the stage; but his appearance on this occasion was as little advantageous to himself as his employer. At the moment of Macbeth's entrance into the cavern our hero made an unlucky step, from which, owing to the irons about his limbs, he could not recover; he fell against the next child to him, who rolled upon his neighbour, who, in turn, jostled upon the next, and the impulse thus communicated, like an electric shock, went round the circle, till the whole party "toppled down headlong," and were laid prostrate on the floor. This, of course, produced much laughter among the audience, and the sombre Kemble, who could but little enjoy a laugh occasioned by the failure of cne of his own introductions, took the infantine performer severely to task upon the subject, who, it is said, wittily excused himself by begging the manager "to consider that he (Kean) had never before appeared in TRAGEDY."" Soon after this he entered as cabin-boy on board a vessel bound for Madeira. His health became impaired in cons quence of the harsh treatment he received, and he was soon after sent to an hospital at Madeira, where he was laid on a bed of sickness for two months. On his return to England he threw himself on the protection of his uncle, Moses Kean, who, with Miss Tidswell, of Drury-lane theatre, supported and instructed him. Upon the death of his uncle he entered Saunders's company of tumblers, and amongst them he threw summersets and handsprings, to the infinite delight of the elegant frequenters of Bartholomew and the adjacent fairs. Soon after this he appeared at Sadler's Wells,' where his recitation of Rolla's Address to the Peruvians gained him great popularity. At the age of fourteen he personated Richard and Lord Hastings, at a small theatre in Yorkshire; after this he performed at Windsor, where his hopes of future fame were excited to the acmé, by the approbation testified by Royalty of his recitation of Satan's Address to the Sun, and the first soliloquy in Richard the Third. Here he attracted the attention of Dr. Drury, who sent him to Eton school, where he remained (under the name of Carey) nearly three years. On leaving Eton he resumed his theatrical career, under his assumed name of Carey, and obtained an engagement at Birmingham, where he opened in the arduous part of Hamlet. It was, however, considered a failure by the townsfolk. From Birmingham he proceeded to Edinburgh, where he was rather tolerated than admired.

We are induced to insert the following sketch of a man who has excited a great share of public attention in his time, and is, therefore, deserving of some notice. We think the detail of his unhappy though distinguished career cannot be without its moral on our readers; it will teach them never to estimate individual happiness by the glitter of public display, and warn the young and ardent to shun a path in which talents so powerful as Kean's could only signalize his misery.

Edmund Kean was born in Castle-street, Leicester Square, on the 4th day of November, 1787. His reputed parents were, Aaron Kean (who was by trade a tailor) and the daughter of the celebrated George Saville Carey. It has also been asserted, and we believe with some degree of truth, that Mr. Kean never knew his mother, that he was doubtful on the subject, we have had more than one instance. A report is also in circulation (for the truth or falsehood of which we cannot vouch), that Mr. Kean was the son of the old Duke of Norfolk by a Miss T-1, formerly of Drury-lane theatre. That he always evinced a strong and almost filial affection for this lady is well-known.

When scarcely able to walk, the subject of this notice was placed under the care of a posture-master at Drury-lane theatre, where he is said to have acquired an extraordinary flexibility of limb. These exertions were, however, too great for his strength and health, his bones became distorted so much that at four years

From Scotland, Kean passed over to Belfast, where Mr. Atkins then wielded the theatrical truncheon; and there, soon after his arrival, he was called upon with the brief notice of two days, to study Osmyn, in The Mourning Bride-the tragedy in which Mrs. Siddons proposed commencing an engagement of three nights. In vain did he confess his utter inability to render himself master of the words, much less to enter into any delineation whatever of the character; in vain did he remonstrate against the cruelty to him, and the injustice to such an actress, of thus forcing upon him a task to which, at such a notice, he was utterly incompetent. The manager, like Major Molasses, "was resolute, and would not be ruled." Kean had engaged to play the first tragedy business; and play t he must. The bewildered actor had previously engaged to dine on the Sunday with a young friend of his, who was then on board a sloop of war, lying in Carrickfergus Bay; and thither proceeded late on Friday night, determined to remain on board till the dreaded hour. On Monday, afternoon, he returned to Belfast, nearly perfect, as he hoped, in the words at least; but the moment he beheld the "Queen of Tragedy,"-the noment the plaudits of the audience broke upon his ears as they hailed the entrée of the matchless Siddons-the moment he stood upon the stage he felt as if all his powers were paralysed; his memory forsook him; and having delivered the two first lines allotted to him to speak, his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, he was bewildered his brain a chaos and he spoke "an infinite deal of nothing," but not one word of what

the author had set down for him. At length, to appease the rising indignation of the house, he came forward-explained all the circumstances, and removed the blame from his own shoulders to those of manager Atkins. Venice Preserved was the next play in which Mrs. Siddons was to appear; and prior to rehearsal on the following morning, she required who was to represent Jaffier? Atkins informed her that "Mr. Kean was the Jaffier." "What! Mr. Atkins," replied she, "surely not that horrid little man who destroyed the tragedy last night?"— Mr. Atkins then explained, and took, as he was bound to do, the failure of that attempt entirely upon himself; but he assured her that Kean was not only perfect in Jaffier, but would, he was convinced, play the part extremely well-and so it proved, for at the fall of the curtain she complimented the young actor on the talent and feeling he displayed; and even gratified the manager by predicting the future success of "the horrid little man." Her engagement closed with the performance of Douglas-in which she, of course, was the unrivalled Lady Randolph, and Kean sustained "the blooming Norval" to her entire satisfaction. And so they parted; never again "to meet on trophied stage."

In the year 1805, we find him acting at Sherness; and about this period he was engaged for inferior business at the Haymarket theatre, where he remained one season, and then engaged at Croydon, but relinquished his engagement at that theatre rather than play Laertes to Master Betty's Hamlet; an instance of the value he set upon his own talents, and the respect he had for the profession itself, which he thought would be sacrificed by a boy's personating one of Shakspeare's heroes. Kean went from Croydon to Swansea, and from thence to Waterford; at the latter place he made an impression, if not on his audience, at least upon the heart of Miss Chambers, to whom he was soon after united. His union, however, brought with it no increase of fortune, and consequently added to the many difficulties with which he had to contend.

With Cherry, who was then at the head of an excellent and efficient a company as we have ever seen in the English provinces, Kean went to Waterford, where full scope was given to the display of those talents which no man knew better how to appreciate than his new manager. As one proof of Eclat that attended the display of his genius in Waterford, we may state the fact, that so powerful was the impression produced by his personation of Reuben Glenroy, in the comedy of Town and Country, as to induce the members of the Kilkenny Amateur Society to visit the urbs intacta for the express purpose of witmessing the repetition of the performance, which they patronised; and be it remembered, that Reuben Glenroy, though written expressly for John Philip Kemble, and originally played by kim, was amongst the almost forgotten myriads of characters, when Kean thus restored it to light and life. His next triumph was as Luke,* in Riches, or the Wife and Brother; and of its effect, personal observation enables us to speak. The soliloquy in the last act, where the crafty spoiler revels till he grows wild in the contemplation of his ill-acquired piles of wealth and treasure, was one of the most powerful efforts of art that we had ever witnessed; and the sensation it excited in the audience was almost electric: they expected no such burst of talent-they were taken completely by surprise; but they acknowledged the mastery of genius in simultaneous and long-protracted thunders of applause.

In Richard, in Octavian, Shylock, and many other characters of as varied attributes, Kean was not less eminently successful; and it was admitted, by all who had the slightest pretensions to critical acumen, that, had his. personal and physical equalled his mental qualifications, such a man had then had but few In the second year of his London triumph, an elderly lady, whose sympathy had been excited by his forlorn condition in boyhood, but who had lost sight of him in his wanderings till his sudden starting into fame astonished the world, was induced, on renewing their acquaintance, to pay a visit of some days to him and Mrs. Kean, at their residence in Clarges-street. She made no secret of her intention to evince the interest she felt in his welfare, by a considerable bequest in her will; but on accompanying Mrs. K. to the theatre to see him perform Luke, she was so appalled by the cold-blooded villany of the character, that, attributing the skill of the actor to the inherent possession of the Send-like attributes he so consummately embodied, her regard was turned into suspicion and distrust. She left London the next day, and dying soon afterwards, it appeared that she had even altered the testamentary disposition of her property, which had once been made in his favour, and bequeathed the sum originally

destined for him to a distant relative, of whom she knew nothing but by name.

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rivals near the tragic throne. By a coincidence to which the modern annals of the stage can furnish no parallel, it happened that James Sheridan Knowles was, at that very time, a member of Cherry's company; and at Waterford he produced, for his own benefit, his first acted drama. It was a musical piece, entitled Leo, or the Gipsy, abounding with passages of pure poetry, and with descriptions and imagery worthy of the author of the Hunchback. Kean played the hero, and with much applause. But to render the coincidence to which we have adverted still more extraordinary, in that same season, and a few nights after Knowles's successful essay, Kean, too, added the character of a dramatist to that of a tragedian, by producing a melodrame, of which the dialogue, songs, and music, were of his own composition. The title of this melodrame has escaped us; but it was very effective. A short time after its performance, the author, in order to gratify his aunt, Miss Tidswell, wrapped the manuscript in a large envelope, and despatched it through the post-office to her address in London. The postage, however amounting to nearly three pounds, she declined purchasing such an unanticipated gratification at so dear a rate, and it was returned to the dead-letter office, where it was doubtless committed to the flames. Though he had, as occasion required, disported, during the season, as first tragedian, low comedian, principal vocalist, ballet-master, comic singer, and harlequin; the most singular effort of his eccentricity was reserved for the evening announced as the benefit of Mrs. Kean, who appeared as Elwina, in the tragedy of Percy, Kean himself enacting Douglas, which he followed by singing a comic song, between the play and farce, and closed the evening's entertainment as Champanzee, the monkey, in Perouse !

From Waterford, the company proceeded to Clonmel, whither we shall follow them merely to notice an incident which still further illustrates Kean's observance of nature in every situation. He was engaged one day in giving instructions in fencing to a young officer stationed in that town, when the handle of the foil that the latter used becoming loose, he snatched up a small sword that lay on the table, and continued to practice, till, by some accident or other, he hit Kean on the breast with such force as to inflict an alarming wound; the blood gushed forth, and Kean fell insensible on his back, as if he had been mortally hurt. Thus practically convinced of the effect of a stab in that part of the frame, he was thereby taught the natural position in which Othello should fall, and which, although as in the instance of Sir Giles, it at first seemed ungraceful to the fastidious, he ever afterwards adopted it. During this visit to Ireland, Kean proffered his services to the patentee of the Dublin theatre, Mr. Jones; requiring for the exercise of his talents as tragedian and maître de ballet, the trifling remuneration of three pounds per week; yet, strange to say, that offer was not accepted. Little did the prodigal patentee imagine, that in less than four years afterwards he should himself be the first to proffer carte blanche to the tragedian, as a star of the first magnitude, whose humble proposition he did not then think worth his notice! Ile remained two years in Cherry's company, which he left for Weymouth, and Weymouth again for Exeter, where he became a universal favourite A dispute with the manager drove him from these boards, and his next appearance was on the Guernsey stage; and here we meet with the following curious, and (though little known) still authentic document, which we record, for the benefit of all ignorant and malicious critics on the one hand, and as a warning to a too credulous public on the other: Last night a young man, whose name the bills said was Kean, made his first appearance in Hamlet; and truly his performance of that character made us wish that we had been indulged with the country system of had, we understand, a high character in several parts of Engexcluding it, and playing all the other characters. This person land, and his vanity has repeatedly prompted him to endeavour to procure an engagement at one of the theatres in the metropolis; the difficulties he has met with have, however, proved insurmountable, and the theatres of Drury-lane and Covent Garden have spared themselves the disgrace to which they would be subject, by countenancing such impudence and incompetency. Even his performance of the inferior characters of the drama would be objectionable, if there was nothing to render him ridiculous but one of the vilest figures that was ever seen either on or off the stage; and if his mind was half as well qualified for the conception of Richard the Third, which he is shortly to appear in, as his person is suited to the deformities with which the ty rant is said to have been distinguished from his brothers, his success would be most unequivocal. As to his Hamlet, it was ons of the most terrible misrepresentations to which Shakspeary

has ever been subject. Without grace or dignity he comes forward; he shews an unconsciousness that any body is before him, and is often so forgetful of the respect due to an audience, that he turns his back upon them in some of those scenes where contemplation is to be indulged, as if for the purpose of shewing his abstractedness from all ordinary objects!! His voice is harsh and monotonous, but as it is deep, answers well enough the idea he entertains of impressing terror by a tone which seems to proceed from a charnel-house.’

They who know any thing of newspaper criticism must be aware that such an article as the above would go well nigh to ruin the most promising candidate. Accordingly, when Kean appeared in Richard he was greeted with laughter and hisses from all parts of the house; for some time his patience was proof against the worst efforts of malignity, till at last, irritated by continued insult, he applied the words of the scene to his auditors, and boldly addressed the pit, with

Unmannered DOGS! stand you when I command!'

has abundantly proved that he inherited much, very much, of the milk of human kindness. He was the actor's and the poor man's friend.-Peace to his shade!

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The pliant muscles of the various face,

The mien that gave each sentence strength and grace,
The voice-the eye, that index of his mind,
Are gone, nor leave a single trace behind.'

This celebrated tragedian expired at his residence, at Richmond, on the 15th of May, at twenty minutes past nine in the morning. His last appearance was at Covent Garden theatre on the 25th of March, 1833, in the character of Othello. Among numerous anecdotes of Mr. Kean, we have the following from a source on which we can rely.

Shortly after he had begun to enact the hero in tragedy, comedy, and pantomime, he applied to Mr. Richardson the itinerant manager, for an engagement. Mr. Richardson was then at Wandsworth, there being a fair or some other holiday congregation, and his principal tragedian having been suddenly The clamour of course encreased, an apology was demanded- taken ill, he was glad to avail himself of Mr. or rather Master in this they were deceived-Kean came forward and told them, (for he was then very young) Kean's offer. Kean appeared that the only proof of understanding they had ever given, was first as young Norval, in the tragedy of Douglas, and contithe proper application of the few words he had just uttered.'-nued in the company at a salary of five shillings for each night's The manager interferred-and the part of Richard was given to performance. Soon after this, Richardson removed with his a man of less talent, but in higher favour with the brutal audi- company and stage-waggons to Eton, where he had obtained ence. So much for the discriminating inhabitants of Guernsey. permission to establish himself for a short time. Kean was Thence he went to Gloucester and Exeter, where his tragedy with him. On arriving near Eton, the horses were so fatigued was not much admired, though his singing and dancing were that Kean and his companions were compelled to assist in always warmly applauded. Dr. Drury, who had long marked forcing the wheels over the ground, and whilst doing so they the aspiring originality of his genius, and the rapid strides with were pelted with mud and stones by the Eton boys, to whom which he was advancing towards excellence, was so struck with the distress of the poor actors was exceedingly amusing. A his performance at Exeter, in 1813, that he wrote to Mr. Pas- better feeling, however, took place in their bosoms after a short coe Grenfell, one of the managing committee of Drury-lane address from Kean, and they cheerfully lent their assistance to theatre, recommending that a trial should be granted him there; the persons whom they had before treated so cruelly. Kean and observing that Kean alone was capable of sustaining the was a successful hero at Eton. The theatre or show booth was declining fortunes of the theatre. Drury-lane was then on the crowded every night, and the fame of the young actor reached - verge of ruin-the tide of public favour had set against the the palace. A message from Royalty, commanding the attenhouse-novelty after novelty was produced in vain-in a word dance of Kean, astonished and delighted the manager and the the house was literally deserted. At this critical moment Mr. mother, or reputed mother, of the young hero, who was with Grenfell received Dr. Drury's communication, when it was im- him. But what was to be done? Although the business' at mediately decided upon sending Mr. Arnold, the then stage- Eton had been good, it had not lasted long enough to enable manager of Drury-lane, to determine upon the correctness of the actors to renew their wardrobes. Kean's upper garment was Dr. Drury's statement. Mr. Arnold saw Kean in Octavian in something between a long coat and a jacket; he had a rusty the Mountaineers, and Kanko in La Perouse at the Dorchester hat and black neck handkerchief, and a pair of nankeen trowtheatre, and immediately engaged him for three years, at an en-sers, reaching a little below the knee, and retaining none of the creasing salary of eight guineas a week for the first year, ten pristine colour. In such attire he could not present himself for the second, and twelve for the third. The pleasant antici- before Royalty. At length, by dint of begging and borrowing, pations which this good fortune was calculated to inspire were he was made decent,' and had the honour of appearing and damped by the death of his eldest son, which took place on the reciting before Majesty. On returning from the palace, with a same day. Upon the arrival of Mr. Kean in London, he had couple of guineas in his pocket, Kean 'disdained the showto endure remarks upon his personal appearance from the mem- man's painful life,' and, after counsel with his mother, decided bers of the committee almost amounting to insult; and indiffe- on quitting Mr. Richardson's booth, and taking the town-hall rence if not contempt, from several of the performers. He for recitations. The speculation, however, did not succeed, made his debut at Drury-lane theatre on the 26th of January, and Kean left Eton as poor as he had entered it, save in fame, 1814, in the character of Shylock, to a very indifferent house; which had encreased considerably. he was, however, well received from the commencement of the During the recess which followed Kean's first triumphant play, and before its conclusion his success was pronounced as season at Drury-lane, he accepted an offer to play at Portsmost decisive by some of the first critics of the day. The ori- mouth. He had then become the great Mr. Kean, travelled in ginality of style, and the vigour of his genius, drew down the his own chariot, gave splendid dinners, and was an honoured most enthusiastic applause, which heightened with every scene, guest at the board of every manager. On the morning of the until at length it became absolutely tumultuous. His fame in- day on which he was to make his appearance at the Portsmouth creased with every successive repetition of the character, and it theatre, the manager and two or three friends invited Mr. Kean was soon admitted that he might challenge competition with the to take a glass of Madeira, and a biscuit at one of the princibrightest and most distinguished ornaments of the stage; but pal hotels. The party entered the hotel, and seated themselves it was reserved for his performance of Richard the Third to The wine and biscuits were brought, and the landlord, albeit place him at once on the highest pinnacle of dramatic glory.- a great man,' could not do less for such a guest as Mr. Kean, It was by Kean, that after one hundred and thirty-nine nights of than wait upon him in person. Kean had no sooner perceived continued loss and disappointment, the interests of Drury-lane the landlord, than darting upon him one of those soul-searching theatre were revived, and that the season which promised to in- looks for which he was so celebrated, he exclaimed, Stop-is volve all concerned in the establishment in one general ruin, not your name -?' 'Yes, Sir,' said the landlord, astonwas turned to one of brilliant success and extraordinary profit. ished at his looks, and at the tone in which he addressed him. Having brought our hero to the metropolis, it only remains Then,' said Kean, I will not eat or drink in your house.-for us to add, that those who have witnessed his brilliant and Eight years ago I went into your coffee-room, and modestly renever-to-be-forgotten performance (and who has not ?) of the quested a glass of ale; you surveyed me from top to toe, and characters of Othello, Shylock, Richard, Sir Giles Overreach, having done so, I heard you give some directions to your waiter, Sir Edward Mortimer, Luke, and Lear, must ne'er expect to who presented me the glass in one hand, holding out the other look upon his like again.' Posterity, in appreciating his merits for the money; I paid it, Sir, and he then relinquished his hold as an actor, must admit that he was the greatest and most ori-of the glass. I am better dressed now,-I can drink Madeira, ginal of his day-as a tragedian at least or perhaps that ever lived in tide or time.

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Kean was a firm, and an attached friend-he could sympathise with the misfortunes of his brother in distress, and his conduct

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I am waited upon by the landlord in person,-but am I not the same Edmund Kean as I was then, and had not Edmund Kean then the same feelings that he has now? Away with you, Sir,-Avaunt! your sight pains me!' and having said this, he

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