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_ EDWIN FORREST His Home as It Was and as It Is. HIS CLOSING YEARS. Remembrances and Traditions of the Great Tragedian. THE PROPOSED “HOME FOR ACTORS,” His Babits and Manners—His Personal and Professional Tastes—How He Lived and How He Died. "The Closing Scenes of a Cel- | ebrated Life. PHILADELPHIA, March 25, 1875, For the last fifty years there bas been no figure more conspicuous in the streets of Philadelphia than tuat of the great tragedtan who was born in ‘this city, and whose bones now rest with those of | ‘his father’s in the quiet little churchyard of St. Paul's. There were occusional absences on pro- fessional errands, bat Kdwin Forrest always returned to Philadelphia, and never aban- doned his affection for it On a sunny morn- ing be was sure to be seen on Chestnut street, “the observed of all observers,” his powerfu, form and marked face, swarthy, and ridged with heavy, expressive muscles, dasned with a purple or biue necatie, with plain apparel, his eye-glasses ewingtng across bis breast, and in later years car. rying a heavy cane, Sometimes you would meet . him = sturdily lumbering through the suburbs; sometimes he would ride on horseback slowly down Ohestnut street at midday. Now and then you would catch a glimpse of him at some theatre, the Walnut Street especially (which was his tavorite resort), of a box, looking with deep, critical, lower- tng glance upon the stage. No figure was more widely known. ‘Wnen Forrest appeared there would be in his train, fl distance, a shoal of admiring boys, who had probably worshipped him from the lofty re- censes of the gallery, and who feasted their eyes upon the greatness that had made known to them Richard ana Lear and Corlolanus. Although a most conspicuous figure in Philadelphia, Forrest . Jed a shy life. But little was known of his habits nd associations, The interest taken in his for- tunes and fame, however, have led me to follow up wome interesting threads of narrative and ubser- vation that may not ve without value to readers | Oo! the HERALD, especially as thrawing light on the career of an extraordinary man. THE HOME OF FORREST. Forrest’s home in Philadelphta was on the south- ‘west corner of Broad and Master street. When he purchased this dwelling, nearly thirty years ago, it was as far removed from the centre ol bus: life in Philadelphia as Fort Washington or For ham would be from wbe Filth Avenue Hotel. The World had not gone pleasantly with Forrest in personal and domestic ways. He had followed the bent of his ambition to England. He had aimed to found @ home in New York, end -to rival on the Hudson the casteliated splendors of the noble houses of England. But a cloud came upon his life, whether trom his own fault or the fauit of others it ts profitiess to inquire now. After te overthrow of his family he returned to Philadelphia, and, evidently desiring to shun Observation and society, he retired, like Timon of Atnens, to what was then a lonely, out-ol-the-way section of Puiladelpnia, and built him a large dwelling. Here he resided during the better part of the closing years of his life. The building stands upon the corner of a lov about an acre in extent. it is @ large, straggling, double house of brick, trimmed with stone. On the Broad street side is @ picture gallery and theatrical room some hundred feet long. On the Master street side the brick ‘Duildingsoccupy more space. Seen from the street the house, even in its master’s days, always had gloomy look. Toe windows were never opened, there seemed to be no life or society about tt. Occasionally irom.the second floor window, look- Ang out from his siudy, the we!l known face of the tragedian would be seen studying the life which | on suuny days surged up and down the broad and weautifal avenue. ‘ine house gained a reputation | Jor mystery, its loneliness excited wonder, and | Dow and tnen strange stories @ould float into our @ars, something like those which attended the retirement of Lord Clive at © «concerning tne lonely, angry, irasmble old man who quarrelled with mankind, who bad been sul- lenly defeated mm tie contest, who lived in growl- ang, Moody, cynical retirement, seeking no one, ‘Booking with contempt upon al! manaind, recog. | nizing neither virtue in women nor integrity m men. time, and the home of Forrest became one of the curious places in Philodelpbia, and when a stranger was escorted through our streets it was ‘always pointed out as of peculiar interest, FORREST’S HOME AS IT WAS. And yet, to those who knew the inner life oy Eawin Forrest nothing coula be more unjust than this pubilc reputation, It all came Dack to your correspondent as he sauntered Op Broad sireet the other morning, marvelling at the changes tnat had taken place in Poiladelphia $m ten years, and recalling the Sunday afternoon strolls which Damon and himself were wont to take to visit the tragedian. To those who were in any way welcome Forrest’s house was always open. It was my privilege during some years to be among those who were admitted on terms of per- | sonal friendship into the lonely mansion on Broad | street. A.curlous custom about Forrest's house ‘Was that i! you desired to call upon him it was mecessary to send him word in advance, for he Maintained his seciasion so rigidly that practically @il visitors ‘were denied admission. could be more gracious in the dispensation of hos- pitalities. Yoo named your hour, say_at five-in the afternoon, and at five, upon ringing tue bell, Forrest, himself, Would open tne door, seemed to be no servants in the house, Witp the exception, I think, of a gardener, who attended to | the grounds, there were none, His two sisters teok charge of his housekeeping. One of Dis peculiarities was the dislike of ser- vants, and he would not have = them around the house, until after his sister's deau, aid. His favorite room waa the library, aud $0 wae certainly a noble chamber. [He was proud of his books. There was the 1623 Shakespeare, bound in red morocco, which he kept under a @iass case, as the holy of holies, and whicn was, perhaps, the only thing on earth that ever extoried from Forrest @ sentiment like that of worsbip, try w recall many evenings that were paseed ip this apartment, ont only tne shadows remain; the hearty althougn somewhat austere greewng of the great actor, hia lofty way of asking you what wine you prelerred, adding gener- ally, “be sure end name what you want, for I have al} the wines of the worid in the cellar;” the de- light with which Xe would dwell upon his (svorite Pictures; bis booka; the mementoes of past day his collection of ewriosities, not varied or large, ‘but all full of interes& And then the charm of that Wonderful voice! Jt’ Was never heard upon she stage in the perfection’. and beauty it possessed in his library, I remember the finest passages of Forrest’s acting, but I an recall nothing—not even the farewell speech in “Othello,” which was perhaps his loftiest piece of eclamation—to equal his reading of Shelloy's “Skyhirk,” or the “Lines to a Cloud,” or that marvellous \bit of color from “KEpipschydion,” beginning, if I\quote correctly, “Thig isle and house are mine, and,! have vowed suee Ww be Jady of my solitude.” Tho reading sitting in the shadow | NEW YORK HERALD, SUNDAY, MARCH 28, 1875—QUINTUPLE SHEET. ] of the “Skylark” especially lingers in the memory as wonderntlly beautiful and touching. Sometimes, if the tragedian was in the mood, he would driit of into recitations, one especiaily, saw mostof his life, for with them almost altogether | opinion of the executors being that, as ex- bis latter years were spent, essed in Mr. Forrest’s will, the home would FORREST’S HOME AS IT 18. | Dave many disadvantages, It is to be hoped that The old mansion looks gloomy enough on this | these disadvantages can be overcome, more called “The Idiot Boy,” that would melt the | cold spring day, We ring the bell, and in a few | espectally as ic is known that, after making his | firmest heart into tears. Occasionally a playfal | minutes are admitted py Mr. McArdle, who hi will and more carefully studying the matter, Mr. | mood woula come upon him, and he would | been designated by the executors to take charge | Forrest haa resolved upon changing his whole | tet a negro story and illustrate it with a snatch of | of the place. it 1s now offered tor sale and has | plan, Thus, by the terms of the will, the city | melody, perfect in its Imitation and roilicking fun. | veen partly aismantied. We stroll into the draw- | house, which we are now describing, 1s to be EDMUND KEAN. ing room. The carpets are up, the ornaments re- | sold, and his country place, Spring Grove, Not a deeply read Forrest was a widely stu- | moved, the collection of prints and pictures are | about ten miles from the city, is to dious man in all concerning bis own profession, | gatherea into a corner, We go up stairs, our | be set apart for the Home. If anything He had great powers of mimicry, and can re- | feet resounding on the unfurnished steps, | could be more desolate it would ve the Member on one occasion his reciting the Ovhello | and we come to the door of the old library. A | banishment of a company of old actors and speech in the thira act of the play after the | freshly-painted spot shows where the fire broke | actresses to @ country dwelling, there to live manner of Kean, whom he had supported as | out shortly alter Forrest’s death, destroying, | all the year round, away from their old haunts Tago. Kean was his ideal in acting. He uever | among other things, the 1623 folio Shakespeare, | and all that would bring back to them their own spoke of nim but with extravagant admiration. | wnich he prized the apple of hiseye. The | trialsand trimmphs. Mr. Onkes tells a story of a | an tact, Forresv’s pratse of blame was always | books have been taken away, and are packed up | visithe made tothe dramatic institution near | clothed m exnverant§ adjectives. Kean | to be sent to his Actors’ Home. Tne walls are | London of this character, and his asking one of ‘ne believed to be the greatest actor | bare and fresh and clean. Here are two large | the inhabitants how he liked his “Homo” life. ‘It is | that ever lived. When he played Iago | photographs, life size—one of Forrest im citizen’s | the blasted heath, sir,” said the old comedian, who went on mourning his absence from the city, from Drary Lane and Covent Garden, and the lonely, lonely life thrust upon him. The executors are of the opinion that Forrest’s true intention would be carried out if the city building could be set apart for this purpose It 1s | @ question, however, whether this could be done Gress, the other as Lear, holding nis sceptre of straw, and saying, “Aye, every inch a king!” Around the wail there is @ collection of photo- | to him his own presence sunk out of sight, | and he felt ne was but the reflex of Otheilo, | Yhere is @ snatch of a story which I wish I coulda | remember of a visit Forrest paid to Kean one | graphs of Forrest, in all of bis characters, | morning at his hotel in Albany, when the Eng- | imperial size, taken by Brady. He took @ great | lsh tragedian was in a melting, perhaps a mand- | deal of pride in this work, and when tne photo- | lin mood, and entertained his visitor by sing- | graphs were printed he. persisted in buying the | Ing:— . negatives, so that they could not be reproduced, { elther under the present statutes or by special { Ba jnax break. ‘ou may matte he vase tf 08 will: Here we have him in all his characters—Lear, | law. They wiil do nothing that wiil in any way in- | ‘Ths imitations: De Rexn ant Pa siege ale he Hamlet, Othello, Rotio, Claude Mejnotte, Jack | jure the property or lead to ligation, and so de- liked were only equalled by his exaggerations of | C®#® Metamora, Spartacus, the Broker of Bo- | stroy the purpose of the tragedian, The trustees are | the elder Booth and Macready and those whom gota, and so on down the list. Here, on a table, | men of the very highest character, and as soun as | he disliked. On these points he was morbid, His | 8 the glass case in which he kept his acting swords, | the estate is im @ fair way to be wound up the | | life was tinged with three or four hatreds which We open it and take them out, for they are a | business of opening the Home will begin. | never took shape im his speech without the most noted collection, The first is Richard the Third’s CLOSING YEARS. extravagant denunciation, ‘The jury system, mar- sword, with the monogram ‘J. P. K.”” engraved Ihave referred to the intention of Mr. Forrest riage, Charles O’Conor and Macready were the | "P02 1 for John Philip Kemble, to whom It | to open a schoo} during his lifetime tor the in- | subjects which roused him. An unfortunate mar- originally belonged. On the weapon ts this super- | struction of young persons who wished to go upon | | riage had ruined his lise, A jury had defeated him scription :—This sword, worn by Edmund Kean | the stage; but this was not to berealized. ‘Tow- | | in his suit, Chartes O’Conor had conducted the case | 8° Richara IIl., was presented to Edwin Forrest | ard the end of his life he became fond of money and | | against him. Macready had been his rival, and not | by his sincere admirer and friend, Stephen | applause. This rich man, who Jor years in the | always, perhaps, a courteous rival, in Engtand. Price, London, 1826.” We look at the weapon } prime of his life retired from tne stage, as he grew | These were points of irritation, and they were sub- which Kemble and Kean and Forrest wielded | old became possessed with the purpose of play- | | jects which those who knew his weakness and re- | and put it by with reverence. We take up | ingallthe time. He seemed to have felt that he | ‘pected his character always took pains to avold, another, a Roman sword, with ‘‘Talma” engraved | could never die. A compact, strong, lusty form, | Proud of bis genius snd conscious of nis | 2POn it This was the property of Talma, tho | overflowing with the resources of manhood, with | power, he was irritable to the last | STeat tragedian, who wore it in his Roman \ vigor, activity, healtn, he could not believe in old | degree. A alight paragraph showing lack of appre. | Patt, and the tradition is that he recetved 1 | age. There are many storles, touching, almost | clurines or dislike wounded him. Then-came bursts | from the Emperor Napoleon, his friend. There 1s | tragic in their way, of how he battled with the | ! of angry passion: and libel suits, In this I often | another Roman sword, with a handle in | inevitable? 2 . 1 fancy that Forrest resembled Walter Savage Lan- | ‘M¢ shape of an eagie’s beak, and a | | Scotch claymore, which are not known | they were the locks ofa young man, He took the Gor, as he is described by hia vlographer, OF | 4, nave any epecial history. And here, also, | utmost care of his person, He bathed and scrub- Dickens? ac thorn, in “Bleak eric Sarda raat a based on abhi | 1s a bowie knile, the first ever made, and | bed himself until his skin shone like It ‘waa often 2 question whether cenectn boister- | made a present to Forrest by Colonel bowie, the , burnished marble. He believed that men ous talk upon ives subjects was affected or nad | inventor of that interesting emblem of American | should live until they were 120 years old with | | become a habit with him. He was tuo frank a civilization. The blade is nearly a foot long, and | proper care, His aim was to make money for the man to be insincere on any question, and, there- | Sheathed ina rude leather scabbard. Here is a , home, to keep always in the eye of the public. | us, beautitully EASTER. How the Holy Anniversary is Celebrated in Various Parts of the World. ae RELIGIOUS CEREMONIES, CURIOUS Tne festivalof Easter is termed & movabie one, | from the fact that the date of its occurrence varies between march 22 and April 25. Inasmuch as there was constant discussion with regard to the proper date for its observance, the Council of Nice ap- pointed the first Sunday after the first full moon following the 21st of March; and as the moon fuiled this year on March 21, it follows that Easter occurs on March 28, which 1s its earliest poasibie happening. Easter, a festival which with us is chiefly con- nected with spring bonnetg and abnormal egg- shaped confectionery, ornamented with various devices—many of them trivial, many of them beau- tifni—is still contemplated in other countries as @ season of great solemnity, and as offer- ing all the most pleasing features of re- ligious worship as a commemorative testimonial to the important event 1t recalls, From time im- memorial its celebration nas been characterized by peculiar ceremonials in each of the three great churches which recognize its importance—the | Boman Catholte, Protestant Episcopal aud Greek, KASTER IN ENGLAND. Although old customs are perhaps continued In their observance with as mach flaelity in England as in any other country, yet, in the course of time many have become forgotten or have grown dts- agreeable to the changed tastes of the people. This fact 18 noticeable with regard to many fes- | tivals and holidays, and the manner of conducting the observances belonging to these differs greatly in different counties, in Kent, for instance, cer- tain generously disposed persoas bequeathea twenty acres of land to the local poor, the rents to be divided among them every Easter, forever. So every Ewster Sunday afternoon there are divided there 600 cakes and ‘The giving of aster eggs is a custom generally in practice throughout England, particularly in the northern counties, These eggs are there, as with jored, and covered with orna- mental desiges and inscriptions, A common pastime among children is that of cracking eggs, the one whose egg cracks the most and remains | whole tne jongest being the champion, In War- wicksaire it is still customary 1or young men to at a Yespect- | fore, I suppose that these expressions were the | | Little necessary expenses in his household affairs D convictions of a man who either strongly loved or | hated. | FORREST AMONG HIS PIOTURES. cane that belonged to George Washington, and | another signifying that it had been presented to | | Forrest by the artists of the Broadway Theatre, | 1s a story of his walking up and down the room tn | New York, on the sixty-ninth night of his per- | seek who can catch @ hare and carry it to the would sometimes throw him into a tury, and there | village pastor before @ certain hour in {the morning of Easter Monday; the fortunate person is made happy by the a hotel far off in Southern Texas in @ blazing reward of @ cail’s head and 100 eggs. Another anger because he remembered that the fence ariemont, | These were the whispered rumors of the | But as whe figure of Forrest comes out of '‘ formance in that city, April 30, 1852, We close | these shadows it 18 alwaysina gentle aspect. I this case and look at a portrait of the elder | around Spring Grove had cost him $250. He would cannot recall an occasion when he was angry or | Wallack, which Forrest treasured, holding, as | not concede that his power was failing, He hada, even impatient. I see him slowly tramping he aid, that great actor and princely gentle- | premonition in Washington in @ touch of paralysis | | through bis picture gallery with heavy foot, point- | Manin high esteem. We pass into another room | which left his brain in such a condition that his | ' ing ont one after another of his paintings. His | which is occupied by Mr. McArdle, and is the only | physicians unanimously concluded his life hung by taste In art was not a taste but a prejudice. He | chamber furnished in the house. Here are many | ahairand that he might die at any moment, | had likes and dislikes, which he asserted in the | personal relics of the actor. Here is his favorite | His friends, Oakes and McArdle, consulted as to | most curious way. “1 Would not take $10,000 for | cloth cap which he wore around the grounds or in | whether they should tell him, but it was thought | that picture,” he would say, pointing to a pretty | tramping the streets in rainy weather. Here are | best not to excite emotions which migtt lead | | little thing by the German painter Meyer of agirl | all tho known or attainanle printa of Forrest, | to fatal results. He had strong religious senti- | paddling in the brook with her fair feet. “Isitby | from the earliest down to the latest, taken | ments, withont any spectal belief, his mind run- it for hours and hours, and I feel the cold rush of | Just before his death. Here is a painting of For- | ning toward the Catholic faith, of which he always {| the water in my blood and on my brain.” There t rest as Rolla, which must have been made when | spoke with the utmost respect and reverence as was acopy ofa Spanish picture of an Andalusian | he was quite a lad, for the face is boyish, Here are | “the mother Church.’”” But he never acceptes its | boy playing on a gular, which he always inSisted | pictures of Vakes, Dougherty, McArdle and Forney, | sacraments or discipiine. His mind, always accu- was an ojiginal Murillo, There was a “Napoleon | which were among his dearest household treas- | rate and literal, never forgot a line of a part, but at Moscow,” the Emperor standing at a window, | ures. We note also two play bills, of which he was | as age came upon him his memory began to fail, drawing back the curtain, while he sees through | proud and had framed. ‘The first recordsthatat | and the prompter would be compelled to | the irosty pane the beginning of the fire, and ; the Broadway Theatre, on Aprii 8, 1852, Forrest follow him through his recitations, One indicates by the darkening scowl upon his brow | piayed Ovhello for the fiftieth night of his engage- | who played with him said that ie Oe | that the flames of Moscow presage the downfall | ment. The lago of the occasion was F, B, Conway, | served this first in the Academy of Music, | of bis house. He would stand beiore this picture | who dica very recently ssio was Mr. A. W. | Philadelpmia, daring a performance. “I had | and dila‘qupon it in high emphatic speech as oae of | Fenno, just passed away; Desdemona was Mme, | retired up tie stage while Forres% was begin- | the finest conceptions of modern art. There was | Ponisi, who lor the last three months has been the ning the speech from ‘Othelio.? The prompter another collection of three pictures—Merning,” | mother of Conn, the Shaughraun, There was the | was sitting at the oack of the stage reading a | “Noon” and “Night”—well known to art con- | after piece, “My Precious Betsy,’’ in which Mr, | newspaper, Bot dreaming that his services wouid | noisseurs, pleasant enough, but nothing striking, | Davidge was the low comedian, and Miss Crocker, | be reguired oy one who haa played tue part for | avhich he was always proud to sow to his visitors. | who was aiterward to be the wile of Mr. | fifty years, Suddenly Focrest paused. He looked | There was the painting of his dog thataccompanied | Conway, supported him. Around the room are | toward the prompter’s box with a sudden gaze of | ; him on his travels through the West when he was | various prints of famous actors, Kemble as Cato, | alarm and a clutching of the fingers, which always | a young strolling acior. “Howl loved that dog!” | indicated feeling on his part, and attracted my | Rolla and Hamlet, aud of Bishop White; a small | | he would say, with strange tenderness of vofce, | statue of Napoleon; and the little oddsandends | attention at once. As he was in the havit | | “That dog was the vest friend Lever had. He had that he treasured, bis grand{ather’s spectacles, old | of making long pauses no one else ob- brains enough to be President of the United States, | receipt Geek “howette portraits vf his brothers, | served this particularily. In an instant I | When he was dead [ had him painted. I have | all the marks of active and vigorous life. His | saw the situation, and, making some business, | desk seems to be overiaden With business and to wait for tis ow to come and clear it up. ACTOR AND CRITIC. THE PICTURE GALLERY, His criticisms on Shakespeare were marked by | We pass from this room into the picture gallery, impatience of any reading but that which pleased | going through the dismantied parlor on our way, nis own fancy. Iremeimber his contending with , now filled with boxes conwining the beoks of another actor almost to the point of angry con- | Forrest’s Ibrary. The picture gailery | troversy as to whether Hamlet meant “a sea of | builaing erected during the last years of For- | troubles” or a “siege of troubles.” Forrest always | rest’s life, an oblong room, weil lighted. The | read the line:— | lower story was fitted up as a theatre, Forresw’s H ‘Yo take up arms against a siege of troubles; intention being to give instruction to young men and, lest the criucs might not understand him, | and women who cared to enter the dramatic | deeply upon his spirit and wounded him, ] was wont to place the strongest emphasis upon | profession, This work he looked forward to ag | #ltuough he was too proud to confess it, When | | “slege.”” He had a reason for everytuing, and in | the closing duty of his life, and be often spoke of | the public of New York and Philadeiphia wea- | his stage business Was a most exact and metnodi- | {1 with pleasurable antictpations. But the th ried of him he even went to towns like Wilming. | always loved dogs on account of that one.” In Jact, a Forrest’s opinions were o: this character. waikea toward him and whispered the cue. | | -Wnat do you say? asked he. I repeated it i louder. He caught the cue and went on, finishing | | the scene, As we came off the stage he threw his | arms around me and said, ‘You old scoundrel, | | I couldn’t have got on without those words Yor a is a | hundred thousand dollars!’? Other signs of decay | became manifest. But he would not leave the | stage. He gave readings tn different cities; but hig skill a3 an actor failed him as aj | reader, and he did not succeed, This preyed | | very desirable article of pastry, made up of cus- custom in Kent 18 called “Going pudding-pieing.”” The young tolks make calls and are treated with a | vard and, currants, AUSTRIA, POLAND AND HUNGARY. The customs in these countries are similar, and may be given in combination to save space. On Palm Sunday every one obtains a consecrated sprig Of something green at the church, where | every one goes as a Matter of conscience; but the") early days of the week gre not marked by any ceremonics of peculiar interest, ‘the churches, | however, are all open, and all filled with crowds of people evidently interested and devout; but | on Thursday the more impressive ceremonies begin. Processions are common in the churches, incense is burned, itsgstrong perfume making the | air heavy, and allare preparing for the solemn commemoration of Good Friday. On that day the crucifixion is symbolized by the priests, and | everything is solemn and religious. On Saturday night the close of Lens is celebrated by parties and social gatherings, where enjoyment rules the hour. On the morning of Easter Sunday it is common among all glngsep to sepa pam, eggs and bread to the priest, to lessed. Barly on Haster ribbons, and proceed to call on the young ladies | ot their acquaintance. Such of these as are early risers excape molestation, but those who are prone to be too much under the infuence | of the drowsy god are @ageliated with the whips of their male friends until they buy their ransom with parti-colored eggs. On Easter Monday, how- | ever, the young ladies revenge themselves on the | gentlemen im the same manner, The aiternoon of } Easter Monday 18 devoted to foot races and | various games, which are participated in by all | classes, Every manner of equipage turns out. and the streets aré cYowded. Tne churches of these couftries are quite as noted for firtdtioh as | @re the opera honses and concert rooms of New York; but, strangely enough, only at this period’. | Good Friday {9 specially selected for this species of | amusement, though why is a mystery, On Holy | Saturday it is the custom for all who can obtain it to eat roast lamb, Such as are unavle to afford | the luxary put up with kid as an alternative, ana | the number of these species of animals thus anou- | ally sacrificed is great and melancholy, | SPANISH CUSTOMS, In Spain begins to be seen the ancient glories of Teligious festivals, A description of Easter at | Seville will give a good iden of the manner in | which the season 18 celebrated im the chiei cittes, | 1t being there, however, more magnificently ov- served than elsewhere, Early in the morning of | Palin Sunday the melancholy sound of phe Passion | bell announces the beginning gi the solemnities | for which the last of Lent 1s a preparation, In the Cathedral a sombre procesaion of tne ‘churcl | officers, clad im long robes of black silk, their | heads shrouded in hoods, preceded by tuirty priests, Who chant in deep bass voices ihe Am- brosian cnant, and, accompanied by a full band | Playing the grand music peculiar to the occasion, | Wiuds slowly through the aisles, swinging aloit | palm branches, which bend in graceful curves | cai man, Nothing annoyed him more than to | tre is closed now, and he never had an opportu. | tM and Peoria, always seeking the public, driven above their heads. These branches are blessed | | have the text of Shakespeare recited im- | nity of entering upon the scheme, The picture | bY an Insatiable impulse, for fame, work and duttibuved. “smonee he Cuisann “who as | | periectly. His mdustry was boundless. He was gallery has been very little changed, and 1s yery | money. tuem to the railings of their balconies, | | punctual in appointments, hard in money mat. | muchas it was during the lifetime of Forrest. It ee ee Where they are beileved to be @ specific against | ters, and toward the close of his Ie extremely | is an interesting and not a great collection, repre- Hite seat Smee erent Was, 1h cuostone- He: aoe itesoigatinn aueo nO na Diora had had an attack of pneumonia which affected one of hislungs. Mr. Oakes, his life long friend, | unpiored him not to go on the stage again. He was {ll all the afternoon, so hoarse that ne couid | scarcely speak. The play was “Richelieu.” All | the entreaties of his physicians and friends could | not Keep nim from the theatre. Too feeble to walk he was led to his dressing roont | and arrayed himself for the part. so, He never shirked a pecuniary engagement, | senting, as I have satd before, the fan- | ilis constant lesson to young men was “industry, | cies of a wayward coilectur rather than industry.” There are stories of his harshness in | the ripe experience of a connoisseur in art, | Stage! disclpline, but he was never harshexcept | What strikes the eye at first is the | to those who deserved it. No young actor of | life size statue of Forrest as Cortolanus, which | Merit was ever pushed back by him. I nave heard | was made by Ball, gnd was presented to Forrest ‘| many stories of his kindness and his courtesy | py twelve Boston gentlemen. It isa noble work, from one who played with him during | cutin Italian marole, and Pleased the tragedian ice Mads hb ‘arole, 4 had given Mr. Oakes a small phial ot whiske | the bh Bee a his life, and who is | greatly, Mr. McArdie tells us that when it was he et that if Forrest showed signs of euler, now in the front rank of our tragedians, | first unveiled in Forrest’s presence in Bost LE ee er Pye cite, Wuem bOtress Heard | I catia baitctit Bah SWalale MOPAAS ala FAG Sokatdaskees| Pp ‘on he | this he said:—“If I die on the stage I will die, but | sat for acouple of hours looking atitana ex- they shan’t find anyrum in me.’ A chau | | If the business of the stage required you to go to | presged his pleasure with emphasis and feeling. ¥ ied be put behind the scenes, and when he was called be was led to it by Mr. Oakes. | | 48 perlormed beaind the curtains, the organ is silent, and priests and choristers chant the narrative of Christ's craci- fxion in deep and solemn voices. The various characters In that aw/ul drama—Pontius Pilate, Peter and the Maid—are filled in with the tenor and counter-tenor voices with wondertui effect, On Easter Eve (Saturday) an immense pasecnai | candle, twenty-seven feet in height, and thick in | Proportion, weighing 2,000 pounds, is placca | upon a marble pedestai by the side of the great | altar, where it is peated by so-called ‘holy fire,’? | strack from a flint by the bigh priest. High mass | reat Vell which for the last two weeks in Lent hides tue great altar; now the priest chants ‘Gloria in excelsis, Deo,” the veil is raised, fireworks are sent off in the upper | 7 orders pass slowly with folded arms through the long aisies,' covered trom head to foot witn long Diack robes; up in the balconies the canons ex- oe, the sacred relics in their goiden shrine, while rehes borne by monks and friars cast @ wavere ing, uncertain light over ail, Saturday, symbol- izing the descent into hell, is gloomy and silent; put the eve of Easter Sunday, which ends the long period of fasting, Shadows orth the pomp, pageantry aud uviversal rejoicings to follow. The cad are brilitant) lighted, in the window: are St. Peter’s and St, Paui’s done in buiter and Jard and festooned wiih sausages, Or 1D pastry and adorned with confectionery and paim branches. One curious ceremony of Holy Saturday is the custom of procuring one or two Jews to be bap- tized on that day, The ceremony is made as tm- posing as possible, usually very mach to the dis- gust and discomfort of the poor Jews, who are thus made the scapegoats for the sins Of their an- cestors, PONTIFICAL HIGH MASS. On Easter Sunday the Pope goes to St. Peter's anda attends high mass. The priests and cardinals are clad in cloth of gold, velvet aud ermine. Mitres and crucitixes are brougot forth gitttering with diamonds and other precious stones. ‘khe Pope is carried in, seated in a crimson onair of state, borne by twenty men, dressed in white robes. He wears the tripie crown of the arial ir and & canopy of cloth oi silver is held over bis head, He Ja preceied by men bearing enormous fans of ostrich feathers, with long gilded handles, and is thus carried on, paust @® moment before ‘ne miraculous Madonna and distributing biess- ings as he passes. He is next placed upon & Magnificent stooi near the altar, where he kneels, his crown being removed and the cardinals taking, off their red oaps. After reading a little from on altar and chanting alittle irom another he throws some incense into the air and returns to his throne again. High mass is now periormea by @ cardinal and two bishops at which the Pope assists. That over, a little bell tinkles and all te still, Every one kneels; the soldiers re- Verse arms, which clang on the pavement aa they @rop on their knees, and the really great lege nity of the scene is heightened by the recollection of ‘the previous coniusion and the reflection thas the cause of ali this is the elevation of the Hoss, Row march out of the Cathedral and %, the Pope is carried out, the vast as- ee] devoutly and then the Pope pro- nounces ort prayer, and, raising nis nands, invokes @ benedicuon upon toe muititude, Im- mediately the guns of St. Angelo and tne bells of St. Peter’s proclaim to the city that “Onrist ta risen,” and the ceremonies of Holy Week are at auend. In the evening, however, the grandest sight of all ia the iiuminatton of St. Peter's. ‘Thousands of lights are distributed through the immense building, while myriads of rockets ren- der the scene one of surpassiff® magnificeuce. It 1g a common custom to have infants baptized and blessed on Easter Sunday. RASTER SC! AT JERUSALEM, During Passion Week Jerusalem is lined, in the Beighberhooa of the boty sepuicre, with stalls, booths and bazaurs, Where are sold crosses, beads His hair and beard were as white as | 270 three-and-a-half pound loaves of bread, each | from Mecca, mother of pearl images (rom Bethle- | snow, but were as tenderly decorated as though accompanied by one-and-a-half pounds of cheese. | hem and bitumen crosses fron the Dead Bea. Caravaus come in from the East, camels from Damascus, and Bedouin horses gallop in irom the desert, their sides clad in yellow shawls and black abbas, The wild asses of Hebron, with the beanti- ful Beth!iehemite women, dressed in their white | robes bordered with red, and who claim a descen& | trom the crusaders, mingle with the motley crowd Of friars, beggars and soidiers, aking up a per+ Ject cainival. ' OBITUARY. | EX-JUDGE BARNET JOHNSON. After @ comparatively short illness, Ex Judge Barnet Johnson, late Associate Justice of the Kings County Court of Sessions, expired at Swee- ney’s Hotel in this city last evening. Deceased ‘Was born at Gravesend, L. L, in 1835, and had for Many years played a prominent part in the poli- tics of his native county. Having been elected a Justice of the Peace in Gravesend eight years azo, ne was chosen two years later Asso- late Justice of the Sessions, a post whicn he jad Giled for six successive years, his term ex- piring on fhe 1st of January last. Although republican in politics, he was exceedingly popular with both parties, and leaves & wide circle of per- sonal and poittical triends, His dying moments were soothed by the presence of iis sorrowing wile, his liteiong companion Joseph H, Winters, and a few of his relatives. Tne remains were removed to his late residence last night, from Whence the funeral will take place on Tuesday. LOUIS AMEDEE LUGENE AGHARD. | . One of the most brilliant and elegant French | Monday the young men go forth armed with | writers who have shed a lusire on modern litera- Whips made of willow and ornamented with colored | ture is dead. M, Achard has been a proiific wfiter of those novels which, differing from the general character of those works by French writers, attract by thelr moral tendency as well as by their artistic flaisv. He was bora at Marseilles in April, 1814, and was at first intended for a commercial lie, He went to Algeria at the age of twenty years for kue purpose of engaging in a grand | scheme of iiusbanary, which he quickly { apandoned for a igh political _ position. | He made his début Jn iterature in @ journal publisned in his” Qative city, and he arrived 1D Paris at tle age of twenty-four years. ‘There be entered tie field of litexature with en- thusiasm, attaching himself to som& Of the jour- nals, and at once gained a name and fame. From that time M. Achard was the leading spiuit among the Parisian Wddraterrs, aud some of his letters were copied extensiveiy. He went to Spein in 1846 with the Duke de Montpensicr, and the year following one of the most popular of his romances, | “Belle Rose,” appeared in the columns of Vkspri¢ Public. atter the revolution of 1848 M. Ache: ). took up polities, and establianed sap eltited EY iG paper—Le Pamphlet. He to art im | the terrible scenes that took place in Paris that year, and after iosing his brother he was taken prisoner by the revolutionists, The next year M. ard became connected with UVAssemblée Na- tvionaie, aud in this Journal he published his ro- mance, La Chasse Royale.” In 1850 he fought a quel with M, Fiorentino, and being severelp wounded, he went to AIX for the sake of nis th. There he wrote a charming work on this Wel: known resort, Alter his return to Paris Me Achard was an indefatigable writer, and the American public have enjoyed the perusal of mauy of his uovels, On “La Belle Rose,” “fis. toive @un Homme” and “Le Clos-Pommier,” his reputation as a novel writer will mainly rest. He was decorated witb the cross. of the Legion of Honor tweuty-cight years ago, “CHURCH FAIR. A FATR IN AID OF THE FREE EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF ST. MARY THE VIRGIN—A NOVEL PHO- GRAMME, A fair on an apparently novel and highly inter- esting plan is to be opened on Tuesday next at the Masonic Temple for the beneflt of the Protestant Episcopal church of St. Mary the Virgin, As a j rule church fairs are not tue most enticing for pateriamilias, ag there is but little amusement, and, unless he is extremely stoical and capable of gallaries and the four and twenty bells in the | withstanding the naiveté of tue pretty sales- | the iront he always gave place. If you desired to At the head of the stairs as woe walk up the When his cue came he But no one | Tuere | when he was compelled to seek tveir | | rT 4 . | make @ point in any speech he always acted to | pictyre gallery we note an interesting placard, Tyvesny to, eidast ame Bone HOReinE Onn | { Leas and thie ta. always while on the stage that | announcing that “Mr. Sheridan wili speak at the | Stage, eee tit the applause of the multitude | | he was following you and supporting you. It was | close of the poll.” Toisis a memento of English | S¢¢med to pat new life mto him, and | or secede eae in their art that his | those great days when Pitt and Fox | Be eererin ety his hotel, bei ts never | anger broke forth. He hated snam and cant and | and Burke and Sheridan ruled Englana, | 2?! “ STEER ee Tt tone Gia ta eeee | folly, und in rehearsing @ piece would insist upon | and the British Empire was struggling vith ago: Bad irlonds nbeolavely doroade: iis’ sees aes the actors going through the business over and | leon for existence. Here are vusts of Napoleon, | Part. He struggied until the iast moment, re- over again until they became as per- | Miiton, Alfleri, Burns, Shakespeare, and two of Rae RSE net ll a Le al f as it was possible to be. He nad a Forrest atuifferent times of lite. Here are por- | tor Virginius to-night, and 50 upon tie staxe, | perlect knpwledge of stage effect and dramatic | traits, all from life, we believe, of Joun ©. Cal- | YOU Will die.” He ‘listened for a moment, art. On the stage he never thought of the audi- | noun, Patrick Henry, Thomas Jefferson, Dr. Bird, ence—never saw it, He playea his pari correctly, | author of “Spartacus; General earnestiy, always doing the best he could. He never skipped the ‘business’ or shirked the lines. urst into tears like @ child and submitted himeelf to be put to bed. This was at the Giobe Verhaps the strongest point in the character | Of Forrest, and that apon which his fame will Wasuington, | Theatre, Boston, and he never acted again. James Oates, his dear trend; Daniel Dougherty, aaeree | fs i ‘ u Forrest left Boston au | Cooper, the actor; George Frederick Cooke, day. Mr. Oakes accompanied fim to the area Rachei as Cleopatra, Henry Clay, John W. Forney, t largely rest, was that whenever he went upon the stage, whether there were ten people or 10,000 betore him, he did his best.’? One of the most re- | | | ede choy drove ore made an appointment Frederick the Great, with his lynx eyes blazing | With him. to come and spend the Christmas with out upon you, and Napoleon at Moscow, to which | Sie ie EL OE OTA we have before rejerred. We note also a novile ; Matter of the actor’s home and remodel uw, | portrait of Andrew Jackson, whom the tragedian On his arrival in New York he was met Mr. McArdle, his faitniul friend, who kk. 2 7 2 rT e 7 r | im | biarkable peculiaritt of the great tragedian, | knew well and of whom he always spoke with | ite« ronakeet ‘Whedelpne eet iri, aud one which, probably, no one ever sus- | apparently well for one of his age and infirmities. respect and esteem. We see many theatrical pic. | pected, was that he never went upon the stage, | tures and prints—Garrick as Macbeth, Edmund | | no matter under what circumstances, without @ | Kean as Richard, Cooke as lago, Nell Gwynne, | certain degree of trepidatiou. He soon forgotit | Mrs, Jordan (who became the mother of the chil- | and his audience, but this “stage inght was | dren of William LV., and who, if he tad not been a | | @iways there at first, | king, would have been his wife). We have also FORREST’S FRIENDS. | Napoleon at St. Helena, dictating to Montholon, Forrest's circle of irtends was small, but he held | O/ the remainder of the pictures there are none | them in his heart with strong affection, The dear- | Worvby Of note, unless we except the “Christian The next day he drove into town and attended to | some business. Among other things ne took a | large diamond ring of great valne, whicn he wore as a seal, to have it properly set. He returned | home, wrote some letters and spent the evening in his library. About nine o'clock he rang the bell for the servant and said he would like to have | an apple. He was sitting in his shirt sleeves ata | table reading at this time. When the apple was | | brought he spoke with great pieasure of the | enjoyment which it afforded him, and thanked | est of them all Was James Oakes, of Boston, whom | Martyr,” by. Slingemyer, a work of more than | the, sith He retired early, and at mine | | he had known for fiity years, and whose praises _ usual merit. It is an interesting but not a valu- fast. There wen A no reepones. ys | | he never tired of repeating. He was his ideal | able collection, and will be removed to the Actors’ | it rung, and Forrest's non-appearance, although the most punctual of men, led the servant to rap | | at the outer door of nis bathroom. Still receiving | | No response she entered the bathroom and rapped at his bedroom door, Tuere was yet no anawer, and the door being slightly ajar she heard neavy | breathing and stepped in. Forrest, fully dressed With tue éxception of nis coat, his cravat partly tied and in his hands a pair of light dumb-beils, had tailen back upon the bed, was insensibie and breathed heavily, with ao efusioa of froth on his lips, = ‘The rm was given, but he was dead beiore aid arrived, It is’supposed that the | attack came like @ thunder clap as le was . gentleman—‘the truest, pravest, noblest, sunniest | Home, | soul’’—and was made one of the executors of his | | WoL, He had a great affection tor Daniel | Dougherty, of Phjladelpnia, another executor, | readers will remember, was set forth at length in | Whom he regarded as the first of American | Forrest's will, It had been for many years his | orators, and never ceased to praise for the blame. | purpose to found a home that would perpesuate | less beauty and integrity of bis life, He was fond | hisSiame and give his jortune to his brothers and | and proud of John W. Forney, and took the deep. | sistersin his art, To this end he requested his est interest in Forney’s ventures and successes, | irtend Oakes to go to England and Scotland and Mr Lawson, of New York, also an old friend and | study up all the institutions of charity and endow. TRE ACTORS’ HOME. This project of the Actors’ Home, as our | Huishin, nis toilet. 1 | | executor, was a peculiar favorite. Those who | ment, for the purpose of obtaining the best re- | he ‘ded is still as bh ver a puainiy | Were closest to hitn, I take tt, were, firstand above | suits ofexperience. In his will he provides tnat | furnisned, ‘The dumob-nells clasped by his | | all, Oakes, and Dougherty and Forney, Angers in the death ageny le im the cor. | ner. Here is an Indian ciub, the crutches”) that he used when the yout pursued him and an | olu-fasnioned bed. In this room there were but | two pictures, They were those whom le | loved better than all the world, They hang there now. The one ts a iife-sized portrait of wis | mother, with ali the Forrest traits stamped upon herface, The other i# a medallion picture of James | yea on must have boen painted twenty | McCullough, much younger than either, he re- | and our readers will be pleased to know that garded with great affection, He took the utmost | his property has been managed with so much pride and care in his dramatic education, and al, | judgment and discretion by Messrs. Oakes, ways prophesied he woula be a great tragedian. | Dougherty and Lawson (hat the Home will have an Joseph MoArdie, for thirty years his agent and | endowment of more shan $1,000,000, Forrest died | intimate bosom friend, was also highly esteemed | quite @ rich man. ‘There is somo dimicuity by Forrest Jor his homesty and Adellty, These men | about carrying ouy the projects of the Home, the John in twenty-one years the Home shall be opened, | and acolytes and the whole holy ‘reat tower proclaim to the city and are answer: ‘om 160 steeples, that “Christ 1s risen!) Mus. Ketry and cannon are fired, and stuffed figures, jpposed to represent the body of Judas, are shot, hanged, drawn and quartered in the streets, : HOLY WEEK IN ROME, We come now to the ancient city, the capital of the Church, Where flock all strangers and foreign tourists who can by any possibility so time their Movements as to see Rome during the impressive and magnificent ceremonies of Holy Week. throughout Italy it is the custom to Keep watch and Ward over the sepulchres in the churches from Lay id Friday to Easter Sunday, at midday. The ties to prevent them irom falling into the bands of the devil. In Rome the ceremonies of the Passion Week | ; commence with Palm Sunday, when the Pope dis- tributes the consecrated palm branches, The car- dinals, dressed in their richest costumes, assist at | the ceremonies—a procession is iormed, masses are sung and incense floats through the air. The kiss of peace is then given vy the Pope to one of the cardinals, who’ passes it to another, and so it goes on through priests n office, On Wednesday the Sistine chapel! is crowded by those Who ate fortunate enough to obtain admission to hear the far-famed “Miserere” sung by the Pope’s choir. As the glorious music—tae most impressive in the world—coutnues, the candies are one by one extinguished, and it concludes in eriect durkuess, The effect borders on the sub- me, and frequently the most irightiul terror and dismay are tuduced among the excited aud by the solemnity of the scene. On Holy Thurad: the Pope wasnes the feet of the pilgrims, so called by courtesy alone, as their pilgrimage usually ex- tends no further than from the Campagna, and sometimes oniy from the streets of Rome, where they pick up # precarious living by begging. Hoy ever, as the ceremony is purely symbolicai, th: answer the purpose as Well a8 if they nad jour- neyed from “over seas.” The special pilgrims selecied for the manipulation of His fo ness have their extremities prepared befor hand, and his duty.may, tnerefore, be considered as a jight one and Purely pertuuctory. He mer touches the jeet of each with water from a golden bowl and then with asolt damask napkin, and the task is performed, such sinechre; their labor ts indeed a penance Here are collected the dirtiest feet and legs to b found, and with tubs of hot water they must Berape, seruy and seap with energy and fatih. Alter iis 18 over the pilgrims jortunate tn buing Selected, and rejoicing under the unaccus- tomed juxury of am ablution, are provided with an excelieut dinner, and afterward tucked com- fortly im bed, The females are similarly cared for by some lady abbess, princess or nua. On the afternoon of the same day hundreds repair to the Sistine chapel, where a cardinal, with a long rod, | touches tieir heads and aosolves them irom | fin. On (he evening of Good Friday the iliu | minated cross is suspended trom the dow Of St Peter's, Ag there are no other hehts boraing at the time, the scene | is wonderiuliy impressive. The Pope throws him- | Sell prostrave beneath the cross and remains in a eient prayer while the Assembled Masses kneel arvuod bin, Meanwhile We various religious I | honored Stars and Stripes. Is are during this time tied ap—in some locali- | But the carainais have no | | else. ; women, he generaliy leaves with a very light | Purse, But the ladies of St. Mary promise a radi- | Calchange. They have quitea new programme, | Apart irom a handsome collecuon of articles everything is 10 be arranged geographically. Each country is to have its proper stall and representative. Hence there will be at once | great variety and also, it 1s presumed, great | beauty. Columbia is to be clothed in the time. | The presiding belie | to represent the noble reds is to assume the robe | and feathers of tne Kiowas or Sioux. Great Britain and Ireland will be represented oy a lady dressed alter a special style, combining the an- cient and modern. La déesse Frangaise will show the beauties of Parisian muilinery, Spain and Italy are to have representatives. Germany and | Russia will provice attractions. And the stately ‘Turk and Persian in tasse/ and toga, it 1s said, are ta show us the beauties and eccentricities of Oriental dress, Hach vendeuse 1s to have her costume, An. excelient band is to be stationed in the temple to discourse good music, and last, but not least, a first class restaurant department will rarnish the “good things’ for visitors. ‘he object of the fair Js bo assisé in paying the church debts. ‘The open~ ing wili be on Marci 30 and the closing April 30. If the committee act up to their vei entertaining ; Programme they will deserve and, doubtiess, meet With great success, BOARD OF EMIGRATION. The grand fight upoa which is supposed to de pend the perpetuity of the Board of Emigration #8 at present constituted will come off on Thurs. day Dext at Albany, at which time the Committee . | on Commerce aud Navigation of the Assembly wilt | Sit to hear the respective parties upon the various questions which may arise. The steamboat men, Vhrough whose influence the “head money,” for- merly established at $2 50, was reduced to $1 50, are bending all their energies to defeat the in- crease to $2, Which the Commissioners a* ; Present ask, and which amount th rs claim to be essential in order ey meet the runuing expenses of the B we | the opposition to the increase, as stat not so much owing to the tncreased ar money which the steamsiip lines wi!’ sownt of pelied to pay should the change ber , be com. Whatever it ig it eventually comes out ade, since grant, as tothe effechit will have! . of the emis iinimigration to other ports, where money Is charged or a much less other hand, it is Claimed by * | that no decrease of uamigra’ such increase, as the money the immediate benetit of tr hus interest mach vetter | stckness or in health, ne The investigatio ot the Board by the closed by the answ 0 driving bie , ether no head amount. On the she Commissioners on 18 like to follow chus coliected is for © emigrant, who flada ooked after, Wheiher in fe than he does any where 4 tute the acts and dotnga , comimittee mentioned waa rogatories recent) —¢fS to tue supplemen Sioners, and wiv y fornished them by ine Comms Hexavo, anda’ ¢h were publisned in fall in the ter nay be 4 carly determination of the mam shed for,