“I should offer my acknowledgments for innumerable acts of kindness shown to my earliest days, and your yet kinder acceptance of, and partiality shown to my latest efforts; all these I powerfully feel, though I have not the words to express those feelings.——But while this heart has a sensation it will beat with gratitude.
“Ladies and gentlemen, with the greatest respect, and, if you will admit the word, the sincerest affection, I bid you farewell.”
During the delivery of this address, Mr. Lewis was evidently much affected. His voice faultered, and the tear started from his eye. The audience were also much affected at this parting scene, and took leave of their favourite with loud and universal acclamations. The house was crowded to excess.
Thus (says the London writer) every hour is seen stealing from this stock of harmless pleasure, and our theatrical register serves only to record our losses. What can we put in balance against the death of Parsons, Suett, Palmer, and King, and the retirement of Mrs. Mattocks, Miss Pope, and Mr. Lewis?—Nothing. What is there in prospect?—the further loss of Mrs. Siddons and Mrs. Jordan. These two stars of the first magnitude will also soon be missing in the theatrical hemisphere, and where is he who can say that he has discovered any promise that this light will, in our time, be repaired?—Nowhere.
“The greatest fires are out, and glimmering night succeeds.”
On his taking a final leave of the Dublin stage, Mr. Lewis spoke the following address:
From ten years old till now near fifty-six,
Of all I’ve gained, the origin I fix
Here on this fav’rite spot; when first I came
A trembling candidate for scenic fame,