Part 8 (1/2)

Well, but what I wrote about yesterday--a pa.s.sage about you yourself. I fancy that he and you were very unsympathetic: nay, you have told me of some of his Egotisms toward you, 'who had scarce learned the rudiments of your Profession' (as also he admits that he scarce had). But, however that may have been, his Diary records, 'Decr. 20 (1838) Went to Covent Garden Theatre: on my way continued the perusal of Mrs. Butler's Play, which is a work of uncommon power. Finished the reading of Mrs. Butler's Play, which is one of the most powerful of the modern Plays I have seen--most painful--almost shocking--but full of Power, Poetry and Pathos. She is one of the most remarkable women of the present Day.'

So you see that if he thought you deficient in the Art which you (like himself) had unwillingly to resort to, you were efficient in the far greater Art of supplying that material on which the Histrionic must depend. (N.B.--Which play of yours? Not surely the 'English Tragedy'

unless shown to him in MS.? {72b} Come: I have sent you my Translations: you should give me your Original Plays. When I get home, I will send you an old Scratch by Thackeray of yourself in Louisa of Savoy--shall I?)

On the whole, I find Macready (so far as I have gone) a just, generous, religious, and affectionate Man; on the whole, humble too! One is well content to a.s.sure oneself of this; but it is not worth spending 28_s._ upon.

Macready would have made a better Scholar--or Divine--than Actor, I think: a Gentleman he would have been in any calling, I believe, in spite of his Temper--which he acknowledges, laments, and apologizes for, on reflection.

Now, here is enough of my small writing for your reading. I have been able to read, and admire, some Corneille lately: as to Racine--'_Ce n'est pas mon homme_,' as Catharine of Russia said of him. Now I am at Madame de Sevigne's delightful Letters; I should like to send you a Bouquet of Extracts: but must have done now, being always yours

E. F.G.

XXIX.

LOWESTOFT: _May_ 16/75

DEAR MRS. KEMBLE,

I have been wis.h.i.+ng to send you Carlyle's Norway Kings, and oh! such a delightful Paper of Spedding's on the Text of Richard III. {74} But I have waited till I should hear from you, knowing that you _will_ reply!

And not feeling sure, till I hear, whether you are not on your way to England Eastward ho!--even as I am now writing!--Or, I fancy--should you not be well? Anyhow, I shall wait till some authentic news of yourself comes to me. I should not mind sending you Carlyle--why, yes! I _will_ send him! But old Spedding--which is only a Proof--I won't send till I know that you are still where you were to receive it--Oh! such a piece of musical criticism! without the least pretence to being Musick: as dry as he can make it, in fact. But he does, with utmost politeness, smash the Cambridge Editors' Theory about the Quarto and Folio Text of R. III.--in a way that perhaps Mr. Furness might like to see.

Spedding says that Irving's Hamlet is simply--_hideous_--a strong expression for Spedding to use. But--(lest I should think his condemnation was only the Old Man's fault of depreciating all that is new), he extols Miss Ellen Terry's Portia as simply _a perfect Performance_: remembering (he says) all the while how fine was f.a.n.n.y Kemble's. Now, all this you shall read for yourself, when I have token of your Whereabout, and Howabout: for I will send you Spedding's Letter, as well as his Paper.

Spedding won't go and see Salvini's Oth.e.l.lo, because he does not know Italian, and also because he hears that Salvini's is a different Conception of Oth.e.l.lo from Shakespeare's. I can't understand either reason; but Spedding is (as Carlyle {75a} wrote me of his Bacon) the 'invincible, and victorious.' At any rate, I can't beat him. Irving I never could believe in as Hamlet, after seeing part of his famous Performance of a Melodrama called 'The Bells' three or four years ago.

But the Pollocks, and a large World beside, think him a Prodigy--whom Spedding thinks--a Monster! To this Complexion is the English Drama come.

I wonder if your American Winter has transformed itself to such a sudden Summer as here in Old England. I returned to my Woodbridge three weeks ago: not a leaf on the Trees: in ten days they were all green, and people--perspiring, I suppose one must say. Now again, while the Sun is quite as Hot, the Wind has swerved round to the East--so as one broils on one side and freezes on t'other--and I--the Great Twalmley {75b}--am keeping indoors from an Intimation of Bronchitis. I think it is time for one to leave the Stage oneself.

I heard from Mowbray Donne some little while ago; as he said nothing (I think) of his Father, I conclude that there is nothing worse of him to be said. He (the Father) has a Review of Macready--laudatory, I suppose--in the Edinburgh, and _Mr._ Helen Faucit (Martin) as injurious a one in the Quarterly: the reason of the latter being (it is supposed) because _Mrs._ H. F. is not noticed except just by name. To this Complexion also!

Ever yours, E. F.G.

Since writing as above, your Letter comes; as you do not speak of moving, I shall send Spedding and Carlyle by Post to you, in spite of the Loss of Income you tell me of which would (I doubt) close up _my_ thoughts some while from such speculations. I do not think _you_ will take trouble so to heart. Keep Spedding for me: Carlyle I don't want again. Tired as you--and I--are of Shakespeare Commentaries, you will like this.

x.x.x.

LOWESTOFT: _July_ 22/75.

DEAR MRS. KEMBLE,

I have abstained from writing since you wrote me how busily your Pen was employed for the Press: I wished more than ever to spare you the trouble of answering me--which I knew you would not forgo. And now you will feel called upon, I suppose, though I would fain spare you.