Records Of A Girlhood Volume 1 (1 Of 2) by Frances Ann Kemble (best e reader for android .txt) 📕

Brother, Who Had Professed Aims And Purposes So Opposed To Tumult

     And War And Bloodshed, It Seems To Me A Subject Of Much More

     Serious Regret. Heaven Only Knows What Plans He Has Formed For The

     Future! His Present Situation Affords Anxiety Enough To Warrant Our

     Not Looking Further In Anticipation Of Vexation, But Even If The

     Present Be Regarded With The Best Hope Of Success In His

     Undertaking, The Natural Consideration Must Be, As Far As He Is

     Concerned, "What Follows?" It Is Rather A Melancholy Consideration

     That Such Abilities Should Be Wasted And Misapplied. Our Own

     Country Is In A Perilous State Of Excitement, And These Troubled

     Times Make Politicians Of Us All. Of Course The Papers Will Have

     Informed You Of The Risings In Kent And Sussex; London Itself Is In

     An Unquiet State That Suggests The Heaving Of A Volcano Before An

     Eruption. It Is Said That The Duke Of Wellington Must Resign; I Am

     Ignorant, But It Appears To Me That Whenever He Does It Will Be A

     Bad Day's Work For England. The Alarm And Anxiety Of The

     Aristocracy Is Extreme, And Exhibits Itself, Even As I Have Had

     Opportunity Of Observing In Society, In The Half-Angry,

     Half-Frightened Tone Of Their Comments On Public Events. If One Did

     Not Sympathize With Their Apprehensions, Their Mode Of Expressing

     Them Would Sometimes Be Amusing.

     The Aspect Of Public Affairs Is Injurious To The Theater, And These

     Graver Interests Thin Our Houses While They Crowd The Houses Of

     Parliament. However, When We Played "The Provoked Husband" Before

     The King And Queen The Other Night, The Theater Was Crammed From

     Floor To Ceiling, And Presented A Most Beautiful _Coup D'oeil_. I

     Have Just Come Out In Mrs. Haller. It Seems To Have Pleased The

     People Very Much. I Need Not Tell You How Much I Dislike The Play;

     It Is The Quintessence Of Trashy Sentimentalism; But Our Audiences

     Cry And Sob At It Till We Can Hardly Hear Ourselves Speak On The

     Stage, And The Public In General Rejoices In What The Servant-Maids

     Call "Something Deep." My Father Acts The Stranger With Me, Which

     Makes It Very Trying To My Nerves, As I Mix Up All My Own Personal

     Feelings For Him With My Acting, And The Sight Of His Anguish And

     Sense Of His Displeasure Is Really Very Dreadful To Me, Though It

     Is Only All About "Stuff And Nonsense" After All.

     I Must Leave Off Writing; I Am Excruciated With The Toothache,

     Which Has Tormented Me Without Respite All Day. I Will Inclose A

     Line To Mrs. K----, Which I Will Beg You To Convey To Her.

     With Kindest Love To All Your Circle, Believe Me Ever Yours,

                                                              F. A. K.

     Thank You For Your Delicious French Comic Song; You Should Come To

     London To Hear How Admirably I Sing It.

Mrs. K---- Was A Miss Dawson, Sister Of The Right Honorable George

Dawson, And The Wife Of An Eminent Member Of The Irish Bar. She Was A

Woman Of Great Mental Cultivation And Unusual Information Upon Subjects

Which Are Generally Little Interesting To Women. She Was A Passionate

Partisan Of Owen The Philanthropist And Combe The Phrenologist, And

Entertained The Most Sanguine Hopes Of The Regeneration Of The Whole

Civilized World Through The Means Of The Theories Of These Benevolent

Reformers. Except Queen Elizabeth, Of Glorious Memory, I Do Not Think A

Woman Can Have Existed Who Combined The Love Of Things Futile And

Serious To The Same Degree As Mrs. K----. Her Feminine Taste For

Fashionable Society And The Frivolities Of Dress, Together With Her

Sober And Solid Studies Of The Gravest Sort And Her Devotion To The

Speculations Of Her Friends Owen And Combe, Constituted A Rare Union Of

Contrasts. She Was A Remarkable Instance Of The Combination Exemplified

By More Than One Eminent Person Of Her Sex, Of A Capacity For Serious

Study, Solid Acquirements, And Enlightened And Liberal Views Upon The

Most Important Subjects, With A Decided Inclination For Those More

Trifling Pursuits Supposed To Be The Paramount Interests Of The Female

Mind. She Was The Dear Friend Of My Dear Friend Miss S----, And

Corresponded With Her Upon The Great Subject Of Social Progress With A

Perfect Enthusiasm Of Theoretical Reform.

                                   GREAT RUSSELL STREET, November 14th

     DEAREST H----,

     Thank You A Thousand Times For Your Kindness In Consenting To Come

     To Us. We Are All Very Happy In The Hope Of Having You, Nor Need

     You Be For A Moment Nervous Or Uncomfortable From The Idea That We

     Shall Receive Or Treat You Otherwise Than As One Of Ourselves. I

     Have Left My Mother And My Aunt In The Room Which Is To Be Yours,

     Devising And Arranging Matters For You. It Is A Very Small Roost,

     Dear H----, But It Is The Only Spare Room In Our House, And

     Although It Is Three Stories Up, It Is Next To Mine, And I Hope

     Good Neighborhood Will Atone For Some Deficiencies. With Regard To

     Interfering With The Routine Or Occupations Of The Family, They Are

     Of A Nature Which, Fortunately For Your Scruples, Renders That

     Impossible. There Is But One Thing In Your Letter Which Rather

     Distressed Me: You Allude To The Inconveniences Of A Woman

     Traveling In Mail Coaches In December, And I Almost Felt, When I

     Read The Sentence, What My Aunt Dall Told Me After I Had Requested

     You To Come To Us Now, That It Was A Want Of Consideration In Me To

     Have Invited You At So Ungenial A Season For Traveling. I Had One

     Reason For Doing So Which I Hope Will Excuse The Apparent

     Selfishness Of The Arrangement. Toward The End Of The Spring I

     Shall Be Leaving Town, I Hope To Come Nearer Your Land, And The

     Beginning Of Our Spring Is Seldom Much More Mild And Inviting Or

     Propitious For Traveling Than The Winter Itself. Then, Too, The

     Early Spring Is The Time When Our Engagements Are Unavoidably Very

     Numerous; To Decline Going Into Society Is Not In My Power, And To

     Drag You To My Balls (Which I Love Dearly) Would, I Think, Scarce

     Be A Pleasure To You (Whom I Love More), And To Go To Them When I

     Might Be With You Would Be To Run The Risk Of Destroying My Taste

     For The Only Form Of Intercourse With My Fellow-Creatures Which Is

     Not At Present Irksome To Me. Think, Dear H----, If Ceasing To

     Dance I Should Cease To Care For Universal Humanity--Indeed, Take

     To Hating It, And Become An Absolute Misanthropist! What A Risk!

     I Have Heard Nothing More Of Or From John, But The Newspaper

     Reports Of The Proceedings Are Rather More Favorable Than They Have

     Been, Though I Fear One Cannot Place Much Reliance On Them. I Do

     Not Know How The Papers You See Speak Of The Aspect Of Affairs In

     England At This Moment; The General Feeling Seems To Be One Of

     Relief, And That, Whatever Apprehensions May Have Been Entertained

     For The Tranquillity Of The Country, The Storm Has Blown Over For

     The Present. Everything Is Quiet Again In London And Promises To

     Remain So, And There Seems To Be A Sort Of "Drawing Of A Long

     Breath" Sensation In The State Of The Public Mind, Though I Cannot

     Myself Help Thinking Not Only That We Have Been, But That We Still

     Are, On The Eve Of Some Great Crisis.

     Mrs. Haller Is Going On Very Well; It Is Well Spoken Of, I Am Told,

     And Upon The Whole It Seems To Have Done Me Credit, Though I Am

     Surprised It Has, For There Is Nothing In The Part That Gives Me

     The Least Satisfaction. My Next Character, I Hear, Is To Be Of A

     Very Different Order Of Frailty--Calista, In "The Fair Penitent."

     However Odious Both Play And Part Are, There Are Powerful

     Situations In It, And Many Opportunities For Fine Acting, But I Am

     Afraid I Am Quite Unequal To Such A _Turpissime_ Termagant, With

     Whom My Aunt Did Such Tremendous Things.

My Performance Of "The Fair Penitent" Was Entirely Ineffective, And Did

Neither Me Nor The Theater Any Service; The Play Itself Is A Feeble

Adaptation Of Massinger's Powerful Drama Of "The Fatal Dowry," And, As

Generally Happens With Such Attempts To Fit Our Old Plays To Our Modern

Stage, The Fundamentally Objectionable Nature Of The Story Could Not Be

Reformed Without Much Of The Vigorous And Terrible Effect Of The

Original Treatment Evaporating In The Refining Process. Mr. Macready

Revived Massinger's Fine Play With Considerable Success, But Both The

Matter And The Manner Of Our Dramatic Ancestors Is Too Robust For The

Audiences Of Our Day, Who Nevertheless Will Go And See "Diane De Lys,"

By A French Company Of Actors, Without Wincing. Of Mrs. Siddons's Mrs.

Haller, One Of Her Admirers Once Told Me That Her Majestic And Imposing

Person, And The Commanding Character Of Her Beauty, Militated Against

Her Effect In The Part. "No Man, Alive Or Dead," Said He, "Would Have

Dared To Take A Liberty With Her; Wicked She Might Be, But Weak She

Could Not Be, And When She Told The Story Of Her Ill-Conduct In The

Play, Nobody Believed Her." While Another Of Her Devotees, Speaking Of

"The Fair Penitent," Said That It Was Worth Sitting Out The Piece For

Her Scene With Romont Alone, And To See "Such A Splendid Animal In Such

A Magnificent Rage."

My Friend Left Us After A Visit Of A