‘My dear Sir,—I have at last seen the boy who has enchanted old and young, and till then I had resolved to deny myself the pleasure of writing to you. I will not say I was surprised, for I went with great expectation, but he certainly came up to the idea you had led me so long ago to form of him. Thro’ many passages he hurried without feeling, and his countenance wanted the changes which time only can give it; but he is a prodigy, and, with careful culture, will delight, if he lives, the rising generation. His acting may now be compared to painting in water-colours,—by-and-by it will acquire more force and body. Mrs. Siddons has retired to Hampstead for her health, and, what is odd enough, tho’ she has seen a play, she has not seen him, nor does she disguise her scepticism on the subject. I heard her read the trial scene in “The Merchant of Venice” the other night with great effect.
‘Our public speakers are divided. Mr. Grey can see no merit in him, and Mr. Windham sees but little—while
Mr. Pitt has become a playgoer, and
Mr. Fox, with whom
| FOX, MACKINTOSH, SYDNEY SMITH | 19 |
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She starts, she trembles, and she weeps!
Her fair hands folded on her breast—
And now, how like a saint she sleeps,
A seraph in the realms of rest!
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Sleep on secure! Above controul,
Thy thoughts belong to Heaven and thee,
And may the secret of thy soul
Be held in reverence by me!
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‘I will not say I am satisfied, and Mr. T. I am sure will not. However, he will take it, I hope, as a proof of good intention. I have done what I could. I have lately visited other times with Mr. Scott, and have returned with great regret to the present. Mr. Fox expressed a wish to make the same enterprise, and I found him busily engaged yesterday in reading my copy.
‘We have received, as you may have heard, some very
interesting letters from Mackintosh. He
thirsts for European society like an Arab in the desert, and looks forwards
with impatience to the distant day of his return. He gives audiences every day
to grotesque figures from strange countries, but such novelties have already
ceased to amuse him. Don’t you rejoice in our friend Smith’s success? His lecture on wit
yesterday deserved the praise it met with. Let me hope you have weathered the
winter well, with all its changes. What a restless life does the quicksilver
lead in such a climate as ours! Since you wrote I have
| 20 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES |
