The Star has got hold of a noble writer. The
death in the London steamship of Mr. G. V. Brooke, a third or fourth-clam actor, who used to be accused of murdering Othello as well as Desdemona, is chronicled by it in some of the finest writing of the age. "A billowy curtain has fallen tumultuously on the last scene of the chequered life-drama of Gustavus Brooke, the tragedian." ' Go where you will, his early fame and +the splendour of his adoles- cence are favourite topics among the old playgoers." But we are told that " the bright exhalation disappeared with ominous sud- denness." The whole article is gorgeous in style, and almost suggests that it must be an exhalation from the splendour of somebody's adolescence,—the finest phrase for a bright boyhood of which the heart of man ever conceived. But the Star does not often twinkle like this. Surely it has engaged the man who does the big words in the Telegraph.
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