DEAR Payne—Your little books are most acceptable. ’Tis a delicate
edition. They are gone to the binder’s. When they come home I shall have
two—the “Camp” and
“Patrick’s
Day”—to read for the first time. I may say three, for I never
read the “School for
Scandal.” “Seen it I have, and
in its happier days.” With the books Harwood left a truncheon or mathematical instrument, of which
we have not yet ascertained the use. It is like a telescope, but unglazed. Or a
ruler, but not smooth enough. It opens like a fan, and discovers a frame such
as they weave lace upon at Lyons and Chambery. Possibly it is from those parts.
I do not value the present the less, for not being quite able to detect its
purport. When I can find any one coming your way I have a volume for you, my
Elias collected. Tell
Poole, his Cockney in the Lon. Mag. tickled me exceedingly.
Harwood is to be with us this evening with Fanny, who comes to introduce a literary lady,
who wants to see me,—and whose portentous name is Plura, in English “many things.” Now, of
all God’s creatures, I detest letters-affecting, authors-hunting ladies.
But Fanny “will have it so.” So Miss Many
Things and I are to have a conference, of which you shall have the result. I
dare say she does not play at whist. Treasurer
Robertson, whose coffers are absolutely swelling with pantomimic
receipts, called on me yesterday to say he is going to write to you, but if I
were also, I might as well say that your last bill is at the Banker’s,
and will be honored on the instant receipt of the third Piece, which you have
stipulated for. If you have any such in readiness, strike while the iron is
hot, before the Clown cools. Tell Mrs.
Kenney, that the Miss F. H. (or H. F.)
Kelly, who has begun so splendidly in Juliet, is the identical little Fanny
Kelly who used to play on their green before their great
Lying-Inn Lodgings at Bayswater. Her career has stopt short by the injudicious
bringing her out in a vile new Tragedy, and for a third character in a stupid
old one,—the Earl of Essex.
This is Macready’s doing, who
taught her. Her recitation, &c. (not her voice or
person), is masculine. It is so clever, it seemed a male Debut. But
cleverness is the bane of Female Tragedy especially. Passions uttered
logically, &c. It is bad enough in men-actors. Could you do nothing for
little Clara Fisher? Are there no French
Pieces with a Child in them? By Pieces I mean here dramas, to
1823 | SHAKESPEARE SUPERSEDED | 591 |