‘My dear Rogers,—Yon recollect the apology of the sapient parrot who,
when he was upbraided with not talking, replied, ‘I think not the
less’; now, if I seldom write to my friends I pay it off, like pretty
Poll, by thinking much of them, and of all their kindness. I break my silence
just now to remind you that you gave us some hope you would visit Scotland this
season, and Abbotsford in particular. We have had such an ungenial
| SCOTT ON THE ACTOR MACKAY | 307 |
‘If you do not think it too great a bore to go to the theatre—and God knows as now managed it is no small one—I want you, and any of our friends who love the art, to see an actor from Scotland, Mackay by name, who plays one single part (the Bailie in “Rob Roy”) with unrivalled excellence. The truth is I never saw anything so much like truth upon the stage. I doubt the English will not understand what a very excellent representation it is of the Scottish peculiarities, because it wants the breadth of caricature usually expected in national portraits. I therefore wish you, and one or two of my friends, to see him as something very extraordinary. He is only to play for one night. He is otherwise a respectable comedian, though not often first class, except in that particular character, and, I am told, is a deserving sort of person.
‘Allan is
returned here, delighted with the reception his picture met with in London. He
tells me he could have sold it repeatedly. Yesterday I hunted out for him an
old gipsy woman whose figure and features I was much struck with as I passed
her on the road. As I found the artist studying a sketch of the recovery of a
child which had been stolen by gipsies, my old woman
| 308 | ROGERS AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES |
‘I am here on a visit of two days to Lord Chief Commissioner (once your William Adam), in company with our Lord Chief Baron (once your Sir Samuel Shepherd), which makes very good society. Always, my dear Rogers,
‘Sophia bids me say she longs to repay you some well-remembered breakfast. She is now quite stout and busy with her little cottage, being precisely that where
‘Lucy at the door shall sing In russet gown and apron blue.1
|
‘I have a black-eyed brunette besides—a sunburnt Scotch lass that longs to make your acquaintance. So pray look northward and bring Sharp if possible.’
