558 The Modern Tantalus; or, [Nov. 



Fanny Kelly had started ; when he described Mr. Mathews and 

 Madame Malibran at the same moment; when he mentioned what 

 pieces had been substituted, what actors had flourished their sticks 

 in the box-lobbies, and who had been suddenly and seriously indis- 

 posed ; we confess that we did stare at him for a minute or two with 

 unfeigned astonishment and admiration. But afterwards, when we came 

 to muse upon the matter, and reflected that the events of his narrative 

 had happened in various places, and all within a very moderate number 

 of minutes ; and then, when we considered how unlikely it was that he 

 should have quitted the box in which he sat, and that the tidings could not 

 have travelled to him by chance our surprise became more profound ; 

 it deepened into a sensation of awe. How was it possible that he 

 should see and hear what was beyond human sight and hearing ? What 

 sympathy could there be between the privilege-office at Drury-lane, and 

 a pirouette just perpetrated at the Opera ? What on earth had all Lon- 

 don to do with that lobby ? We could think of but ONE way in which 

 the intelligence could have been obtained. We admit that it was super- 

 stitious ; but we really felt that there was a fearful agency at work that 

 the mysterious individual before us was a dabbler in some dreadful art 

 that he had learned an enviable yet an awful secret that he possessed 

 some inconceivable glass, some sub-terrestrial telescope, by which the 

 interior of every theatre in the metropolis was open to his view. We 

 felt that his very spectacles would be an invaluable legacy. Our imagi- 

 nation, as we looked at him, converted him into another Asmodean 

 sprite, and we fancied the box from whence he surveyed the whole dra- 

 matic world, to be only a Brobdignagian bottle ; we had little doubt but 

 that his two sticks were concealed inside of it. The lower part of his 

 person was enveloped in impenetrable doubt ; there was nothing visible 

 but his bust. 



As we were really anxious to unravel the mystery, we visited him 

 again a few nights afterwards. It was precisely the same every thea- 

 trical incident of the evening was promulgated. He repeated to us an 

 apology as we found by the papers the next morning verbatim, and 

 within five minutes after it was delivered. We tried him on past per- 

 sonages and events, and mentioned Mrs. Siddons. " A wonder of a 

 woman, Sir ! Ah ! you recollect only her late achievements now, I 

 never saw any but her first. Her brother John too grand even in his 

 decline, majestic in ruins. Why, his very last performance his genius 

 glimmering through his infirmities had all the sublimity of an eclipse. 

 It was a fine sight !" We lamented that we had not heard that great 

 actor's farewell, when to our infinite surprise he expressed a similar 

 regret. " Why/' said we, (( from the opinions you have given, it would 

 seem that you had been there." " No, Sir, no I never saw Kemble 

 since he was a young man.' 7 At this we possibly betrayed some incre- 

 dulity, for he repeated his assertion. " Never, since he was a young 

 man. It was just the dawn of his great day when I last saw him. And 

 as for his brother Charles an accomplished actor, Sir I haven't seen 

 his brother Charles since he came of age." Here we could not forbear 

 looking our unbelief: it was difficult to understand how anybody could 

 exist almost within the walls of a theatre, and not have seen Charles 

 Kemble act after his arrival at years of discretion (honestly and earnestly 

 do we hope that he has not survived them !). But our enigmatical 

 acquaintance proceeded. "And then there's Kean, Sir; he possesses 



