again seduced into his former habits. As predicted by Dr. M'Lean, his dropsical complaints immediately returned, and soon increased to so alarming a degree, that it was feared he could not liye to return to New-York. He, however, was brought back to this city in September, and took lodgings at the Mechanic hall, where he remained until his death. Dr. M'Lean visited him on his return, and prescribed for hin such diuretics, and other evacuants, as his condition indicated; but his complaints had assumed so formidable an appearance, that the doctor despaired of his recovery, and expressed his opinion to the friends and connections of Mr. Cooke. At that time his abdomen had become very much enlarged, attended with great hardness in the region of the liver, and a sensible fluctuation, occasioned by water in the cavity of the belly. His bowels, at the same time, were in a constant state of constipation, except when excited by the most drastic purgatives. His lower extremities were almost anasarcous, and a general yellowness was diffused over the surface of the body, all evidently pointing out the deranged condition of the liver, as well as the debilitated state of his whole system.

During the period of Dr. M'Lean's attendance, Mr. Cooke was confined to his bed, excepting upon one day, when, by an extraordinary exertion, he left his room for the purpose of dining with his friend Mr. Holman, who had just arrived from England. On the 17th of September I was again called upon to see Mr. Cooke, in consultation with Dr. McLean. I immediately visited him, accompanied by Dr. John W. Francis, a young physician with whom I had lately form

ed a connexion in practice, and who afterwards, by his constant attendance upon Mr. Cooke, very much contributed to soothe and allay the distresses which he endured in this bis last illness. Mr. Cooke's strength was now so far expended, that we found it impossible to prescribe any thing that was likely to prove useful for the removal of his disease; we therefore, from this period, directed our attention chiefly to the relief of particular symptoms; as they occasionally appeared during the pro gress of his complaint. On the evening of the 25th, he was seized with sickness at the stomach, which was soon succeeded by violent vomiting, and the discharge of a large quantity of black, grumous blood; by this evacuation his strength was suddenly exhausted; but the vomiting was at length allayed by a mixture of laudanum and mint-water, directed for him by Dr. Francis, who remained with him throughout the night, hourly expecting his decease. Mr. Cooke, however, survived until six in the morning, when in full possession of his mental facul ties, and the perfect consciousness of his approaching change, he calmly expired.

66

A few hours after his death, having obtained permission from Mrs. Cooke, accompanied by Dr. Francis, I examined the body, for the purpose of ascertaining the state of the abdominal viscera, and especially that of the liver. Upon opening the belly, we found it to contain about four quarts of water; but the liver, to our great surprise, did not exceed the usual dimensions of that viscus; it was, however, astonishingly hard, and of a much lighter colour than is natural to that organ; its texture, too, was uncommonly deuse, making considerable resist

ance

ance to the knife; in its internal structure it was so hard and unyielding, that very few traces of its vessels could be found, and the circulation through it had evidently long since ceased to be regularly performed: it exhibited precisely that peculiar tuberculous appearance, which was first pointed out by Dr. Baillie of London, in his Morbid Anatomy. It also deserves to be remarked, that in the case of Mr. Cooke, as in those described by the distinguished anatomist referred to, the tubercles were not confined to the surface, but extended throughout the greater part of the substance of the liver, as I ascertained by making several sections of it in different directions. The other viscera of the abdomen exhibited no departure from their natural condition, either in their structure or appearance.

"Such, sir, are the most important circumstances which have fallen under my observation relating to the illness and death of Mr. Cooke; whose loss, in his professional character, we all deplore; for in that justly celebrated tragedian were united a quickness of perception-a correctness of judgment-a knowledge of human nature-a flexibility of feature-a strength and variety of voice-a dignity of form

and a majesty of deportment, which singly are seldom met with in the same degree, and still more rarely are combined in any individual.

"With my best wishes for the accomplishment, and success of the work which you have so landably undertaken,

"Iam, with great regard and respect,

"Yours,

"DAVID HOSACK. "William Dunlap, Esq.” "Doctor John W. Francis, Doctor Hosack's associate in practice,

who attended Mr. Cooke in his last illness with Messrs. M'Lean and Hosack, and who witnessed his dying moments, has furnished me with the following anecdote connected with the veteran's last exhibition of his favourite character of Richard the Third in the city of New-York. It was on the 20th of March, 1812. The next day Dr. Francis called upon. him, and expressed the pleasure he had received from witnessing the last evening's exhibition.

"Why,' says Cooke, I was not well, and I had forgotten in the day that I was to play at night. I was sitting here very quietly when I was told that I was wanted at the theatre. For what?' says I. To play Richard, sir." "I had no devotion to the deed, but I went. I made out to get through the first act. In the second, sir, I was somewhat better. In the third act, I began to feel. In the fourth act, I was alive; and in the fifth, I think I may say Richard truly was himself."

"Dr. Francis says, that a very short time before his dissolution, he told him that he was born in Westminster. He likewise mentioned his having entered as a midshipman on board a king's ship, when he was fifteen years of age.

"The declaration of Mr. Cooke, on his death bed, must put to rest the question respecting his birthplace; and is a confirmation of his repeated assertion when in this country. I am sorry to pluck so brilliant a flower from the wreath which Mr. Phillips has woven, to deck his Emerald Isle,' but that beloved and injured land is so rich in the flowers of genius, and so free from the mean passion of envy, that she will cheerfully resign her pretensions to Cooke, when convinced that they were founded in error.

"The

blythe,

Leans on his sceptre, and forgets his scythe;
Space yields its distance- ancient glories live,
Ages relapse, remotest scenes revive➡
For thee, creation half inverts her reign,
And captive reason wears a willing chain.””

"On the twenty-seventh of September, his remains were deposited, with all the respect due to departed genius, in the burying ground of St. Paul's church, attended by a great concourse of respectable citizens.

"Thus ended the life of George Frederick Cooke; a man endowed by nature with an athletic frame, and vigorous constitution; a mind quick to conceive, and combine; and a heart open to receive every good impression; and strong in its impulse to every good action.

With such a mind, a good early education would have done wonders; and notwithstanding every adverse circumstance and habit, his discrimination was unusually acute, and his taste pure. Specimens have been given of his critical acumen, and of his style; and I have mentioned a poem projected and begun, called the Stage. Besides these literary labours, projected or accomplished, he appears to have had an intention at some period unmarked, to have

written for the stage, and, I presume, a tragedy. I find a small manuscript book, entitled, Materials for the Duke of Mercia.-No. 1.' It consists of extracts on the subject of early English history.

"The powers of his mind are to be estimated by his excellence in his profession. As an actor, with all his imperfections, from omission or commission, he stood towering above his male contemporaries, alone, and unrivalled.

"I wish not to recapitulate what I have said on the subject of Mr. this opportunity of supplying, in Cooke's acting, but rather to seize some measure, my omissions.

"His powers of discrimination, and his unrivalled manner of adher ing to nature in his recitation, has been dwelt upon; but his mode of anticipating, extending, and im proving, the conception of bis author, his not been remarked, or clucidated. I would give as an instance, his actOthello being wrought up to frenzy, ing in lago, at that point, where kneels to seal his purpose of revenge by a vow; lago says:

"Do not rise yet-[IAGO kneels.] Witness ye ever-burning lights above,Ye elements that close us round about, Witness, that here Iago doth give up, The execution of his wit, hand, heart, To wrong'd Othello's service!-Let him And to obey shall be in me remorse, command, What bloody work soever."

"They rise, and Othello says:

I greet thy love,

Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,

And will upon the instant put thee to it: Within these three days, let me hear thee say: That Cassio's not alive.””

"Mr. Cooke used then to start, and the spectator might plainly read

"How invaluable would it be to actors, if they could have handed down to them clear and minute descriptions of the manner in which the great masters of the art delineated their most effective characters;

such a description of the acting of Cooke I cannot give, but it may be of use to some, and gratify, however imperfectly, the curiosity of others, to notice some very few points which I remember. Such as the quick transition from the fawning boo of Sir Pertinax M'Sycophant, where, with the right hand upon the breast, and the left expanded with the expression of obsequious humility, even the aukward position of the legs seemed to convey an intended idea of inferiority and servility, to the suddenly assumed, arrogant, and upright position, with which he addressed his dependants, or supposed inferiors; when, with every muscle in rigid action, his head erect, his left hand thrown behind him, and his right advanced in front, the forefinger alone extended, as dictating with imperious precision his will, the whole man presented the most perfect contrast to what had preceded, and finely displayed the intimate connexion be

tween purse-swollen pride, and the most abject meanness.

I take up Mr. Cooke's marked book of Richard the Third, to assist my memory. The edition is Roach's, 1802, and the first four lines of Gloster's first speech is in this edition omitted; but on the opposite (other wise blank) leaf, Mr. Cooke has inserted them. I have before remarked the effect which the high pitched tone of his voice produced on his first playing Richard in America when he began this speech: I will now only notice his action. During the first three lines,

"Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by the sun of York; And all the clouds that lower'd upon our house-'"

is the next circumstance that I remember with particular vividness: