THE LATE GEORGE COFFIN

Evening Star, Issue 12763, 16 March 1906, Page 1

THE LATE GEORGE COFFIN

[By Hamit Noma an.] I first made my bow •to the old man—for he was then an old man to me—some twenty years ago. How time flies ! He was then robust as far as health was concerned, but the cloud of adversity had stained his bow, and the sanguine temperament which emphasised all his life hied received something of a blow, and had—probably to his own astonishment—recoiled within itself. '"Messrs Williamson, Garner, and Musgrove were then the proprietors of the Thcare Royal, Melbourne, and it was on the stage of that theatre that I was first introduced to the veteran. I remember lie seemed to gaze round its walls with the look of one who could see visions of things that had been; of things which could never be again. I was impressionable in those days, and I felt a lumping-up in my throat, for the white hairs of th© old man appealed to the permeable part of me, ami I knew from hearsay and history of wha.t th© old warrior had gone through. Mind you, the introduction was" no vase to my advantage. for he understood fully I was a neophyte. My wings of ambition bad been only newly fledged—or spread—whichever may bo the correct expression; but he know it, without being tokl. Ad I knew that he knew. I don’t think he could ever have had any tolerance for beginners on the stage, such as I was then, for my experience was—and I have seen others pass through tho same ordeal —that he looked me up and down with a sort of contemptuousness, and when I, in reply to a question, told him I had been three months on the stage, he ventured the criticism that I was a- fool—with a-n adjective before th© nominative to make his observation florid. May Ibe excused for, I think, a pardonable pride if I assert that in after years he had reason to form a totally different opinion of me? Of most determined character, he domineered everybody. From the doorkeeper to the “ star ” he was emphatically autocratic. He is the on© man I have met who was what I. designate for myself “ Czarish.” More than that, even, he was “ Czar.” He might- ask your opinion on any individual matter, and calmly set it aside long after you had made up your mind that you occupied the position of chief counsellor. He was essentially a ruler, in th© absolute sense. He was far more the “Napoleon” of the Australian stage than he was the “doyen,” He obtained results by objectivity more than by activity. Yet, he was ever an active man all his life, no to a few months ago, when T saw him making his usual morning calls through Melbourne City. But it was the preponderance of his forceful ness that brought things about—he made others do things; he didn’t do much himself. That assertion is made with a reservation. The statement must not be taken to mean he was an indolent man. Ho woe always ever busy. I think it is only very latteriy that he called on the services of an amanuensis—one of his daughters. Ad all his letters were written in sledge-hammer fashion. He had made up his mind what to say beforehand , and he said it, irrespective of its effect on events or individuals. Tlirough his absolute doggedness of personality I don-’t think he ever mad© a really personal friend, except one. Everybody respected him, but few could got within his sympathies. The one man who did thoroughly was, T believe, Bland Holt, for whom I personally lenow he had a deep esteem and respect, if not affection. To th© general run of men his manner was brusque, dogmatic—to Bland Holt he was ever genial and cheery; quite apart from his ulterior demeanour. Yet, notwithstanding his apparently hard aspect to all men he had a soft sped; in his heart—his right hand rarely knew the doings of lids left. Very few—if any —of his own acquaintance knew them either. In the conduct of his theatre, or professional enterprises, he was careful over expenses to the uoint of pain fulness; he was almost parsimonious. I know that, ‘ for I once produced a pantomime for him; hat in other mat-tens he. was liberal to a degree, and there are many in Melbourne to-day who will heavily sigh at the passing of George Coppin. In him was th© inviolable sens© that if you once mad© up your mind to do a thing, you should do it. , That was the rule of his life, and one© the resolve was fixed, no sot of circumstances, no appeal, no pressure would make that resolution waver. In this was he not Napoleonic? Of his professional capabilities I cannot personally speak; I never saw Mm in any part. His acting days were over before my personal knowledge of Mm marked an event in my life. That Ms departure from- the ranks of the living will leave a blank there is no gainsaying. Of course, it is a blank that will be filled by Time—there is no denying that; but until their own commands to leave for that “bourn© front which no traveller returns” come, there will always be felt a vacancy in the hearts of many at the mention of th© name of George Coppin.