especially made manifest in the extraordinary instance of the protection bestowed by one on the mother, compared with the protection withheld by the other from the WIFE;-all these considerations combined to warm up the dramatic spirit, as far as it was capable of resuscitation, of the dormant British public.

Mr. C. Kean, during his long sojourn in the provinces, had established one of the first principles by which the success of public aspirants is tested, which consists of being invariably attractive wherever he went and played. Unaided by any of the obvious advantages of a metropolitan fame, Mr. C. Kean could fill the principal country theatres, while others in possession of those advantages could not attract people enough to pay for lighting them. His detractors argued that all this was only trading in the name of the father and in the amiable qualities of the son, and had no connexion whatever with the personation of the drama; while his friends more reasonably maintained that such adjuncts might be useful in a first instance, but that the repetition of such great success could only be obtained by the possession of great talents. To solve the question, to mortify or to gratify his opponents, (consisting, after all, only of those who were foolishly trying to uphold another,) and to carry out the judgment of his admirers, Mr. C. Kean entered into an engagement with me to perform a limited number of nights, at a

4

MEMS OF A MANAGER.

salary of 50l. a night. Laying aside the fact, insisted upon in another part of these volumes, that "there is no harm in a guinea," there was an immense importance attached to the fact of a young man, bearing the name and having in his veins the blood of KEAN, being able to command a salary hitherto only given to him who first bore it. Leaving out of the question whatever quality of talent Mr. C. Kean possessed, there cannot be a doubt, had his salary been but fifty shillings a night, it would have been asserted that he possessed none; as, on the other hand, he had the credit for the gift of an unusual quantity, from the unusual terms he stipulated for.

My principal object being rather to chronicle the sayings and doings of other people, than to set down any opinions of my own, I shall leave any discussion on Mr. C. Kean's general performance to those whose business or pleasure it is to deal in the same; and shall content myself with such extracts from my own journal of memoranda, kept at the time, as may be illustrative of the season 1837-38. Mr. Kean had arrived in town to fulfil his engagement, while I was labouring under severe indisposition, and one of his visits to me I perceive thus referred to, which I take the liberty of classing amongst a great many others, under the designation of

MEMS OF A MANAGER!

January 7, 1838.-Charles Kean called on me to

MEMS OF A MANAGER.

day, during one of my paroxysms of intense suffering-he's in an established funk about the result of to-morrow: it is momentous to him and all of us; but "funking" will only make it more so. He has good qualities in him, with a very gentlemanly mind; Eton has done that part of the business for himhe'll get well through-doing much himself, and we helping him with the rest. I liked some of his Hamlet when I saw it at Brighton in September last. "Is it the king?" will hit others, "I guess," as it hit me. Miss Charles, whose real name is Pettingall, has thrown up her engagement, because, at Mr. Kean's suggestion and request, I put Miss Romer into the part of Ophelia, instead of her sweet self-she'll be sorry before I shall.

January 8.-Charles Kean makes, what may be termed his début in Hamlet, prepared with new scenes, dresses, and paraphernalia. His appearance and his performance elicited a degree of enthusiasm never heard of but in the case of his father; for he might truly say, as his sire said before him, "the pit rose at me"-receipt of the house, despite reduced prices, and without taking annual boxes into account, 4531. 10s. Though suffering from the effects of severe illness, I flannelled up, and went down to see the sight. A very earnest actor, with most of the peculiarities, (not the intenseness, mind,) and all the faults of his renowned papa. By perseverance, talent, and conduct, he has at length managed

6

FERDINAND RIES.

"To climb

"The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar.” His fencing perfect-plenty of foils provided by the rest of the company. This play will run, and like some other things that run, will draw; which two isolated words are part of the favourite slang of a histrio's vocabulary.

January 10.-The Royal Exchange burnt down -the "whereby" not yet known-a thorough dismay in the city, but it will open the purses of many which are at present too full. "Blood, Iago, blood," -your citizen wants bleeding occasionally, at least in his pocket. The wags say that a "solid change is gone to take a "change of air"-Kean fidgety, lest the attraction of his second night should suffer by the event.

January 13.-Ferdinand Ries, the composer, died at Frankfort-on-the-Maine. The last time I met Ries, was at the house of his friend Mr. Sharpe, North End, Fulham. Tom Welsh was present, and we sat in divan on an opera, by the aforesaid Ries, 'yclept A Night on Lebanon. Ries was a profound musician, but had no melody in him. He married Miss Mangeon, sister to the lady of that name, who appeared (and disappeared) at Drury Lane some years since. Ries was an agreeable, gentlemanly man, but not equal to an opera; his last, The Robber's Bride," was a miserable failure. He was an excellent teacher, but an indifferent

MEMS OF A MANAGER.

7

imparter of sound, and there is a wide distinction therein.

January 15.—The Italian Opera House in Paris burnt down, the cause originating in some overheated flue. There was a performance yesterday, (Sunday,) which accounts for it. Poor Severini would per-severein jumping from a window, and met that death he would have escaped had he remained quiet. It will serve for talk to the Parisians for at least one entire month. Mrs. Bland died this day, aged 73; she married the brother of Mrs. Jordan; but the chances are, that those who never aided her living, are not likely to mourn for her dead! Bravo-" O world, thy slippery turns"what a ballad singer!-in appearance like a fillet of veal on castors-it was vox et preterea nihil”—but what a vox!

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January 16.-Ferdinand Ries buried at Frankfort on the Maine.

January 18.—I met Bishop at Mackinlay's dinnertable, and agreed to write an opera with him-two of the three to write, and t'other to publish. If he will but be HIMSELF, the stuff is still in Bishop; but trying first to be Rossini, and after that to be Weber, knocked it all out of him. The composer of When the wind blows, and the Chough and Crow, and The Indian Drum, and Mynheer Von Dunk, and such like things, cannot afford to copy any one. Bishop has a classical and gentlemanly mind, which

VOL. III.

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