 | Letters of Mrs. Adams, |  |
TO MRS. SHAW.
I seldom feel a sufficient stimulus for writing until I
hear that a vessel is just about to sail, and then I
find myself so deep in debt, that I know not where
to begin to discharge the account; but it is time for
me to be a little more provident; for, upon looking
into my list, I find I have no less than eighteen correspondents,
who have demands upon me. One
needs to have a more fruitful fund than I am possessed
of, to pay half these in sterling bullion. I fear
many will find too great a quantity of alloy to be
pleased with the traffic.
I think, in one of my letters to you last autumn,
I promised to give you some account of the celebrated
actress, Mrs. Siddons, whom I was then
going to see. You may well suppose my expectations
were very high; but her circumstances were
such then as prevented her from exerting that force
of passion, and that energy of action, which have
suppose that she ought not to have appeared at all
upon the stage. I should have thought so too, if I
had not seen her; but she had contrived her dress
in such a manner as wholly to disguise her situation;
and chose only those tragedies where little
exertion was necessary. The first piece I saw her
in was Shakspeare's "Othello." She was interesting
beyond any actress I had ever seen; but I lost
much of the pleasure of the play, from the sooty
appearance of the Moor. Perhaps it may be early
prejudice; but I could not separate the African color
from the man, nor prevent that disgust and horror
which filled my mind every time I saw him touch
the gentle Desdemona; nor did I wonder that Brabantio
thought some love potion or some witchcraft
had been practised to make his daughter fall in love
with what she scarcely dared to look upon.
I have been more pleased with her since in several
other characters, particularly in Matilda in "The
Carmelite," a play which I send you for your amusement.
Much of Shakspeare's language is so uncouth
that it sounds very harsh. He has beauties
which are not equalled; but I should suppose they
might be rendered much more agreeable for the
stage by alterations. I saw Mrs. Siddons a few
evenings ago in "Macbeth," a play, you recollect,
full of horror. She supported her part with great
propriety; but she is too great to be put in so detestable
a character. I have not yet seen her in her
most pathetic characters, which are Jane Shore,
"The Fatal Marriage." For you must make as
much interest here to get a box when she plays, as
to get a place at Court; and they are usually obtained
in the same way. It would be very difficult
to find the thing in this country which money will
not purchase, provided you can bribe high enough.
What adds much to the merit of Mrs. Siddons, is
her virtuous character; slander itself never having
slurred it. She is married to a man who bears a
good character; but his name and importance are
wholly swallowed up in her fame. She is the mother
of five children; but from her looks you would not
imagine her more than twenty-five years old. She
is happy in having a brother who is one of the best
tragic actors upon the stage, and always plays the
capital parts with her; so that both her husband
and the virtuous part of the audience can see them
in the tenderest scenes without once fearing for
their reputation. I scribble to you upon these subjects,
yet fear they do not give you the pleasure I
wish to communicate; for it is with the stage as
with Yorick's "Sentimental Journey,"—no person
can have an equal relish for it with those who have
been in the very place described.
I can, however, inform you of something which
will be more interesting to you, because it is the
work of one of our own countrymen, and of one of
the most important events of the late war. Mr.
Trumbull has made a painting of the battle at
Charlestown, and the death of General Warren. To
it my whole frame contracted, my blood shivered,
and I felt a faintness at my heart. He is the first
painter who has undertaken to immortalize by his
pencil those great actions, that gave birth to our
nation. By this means he will not only secure his
own fame, but transmit to posterity characters and
actions which will command the admiration of future
ages, and prevent the period which gave birth to
them from ever passing away into the dark abyss of
time. At the same time, he teaches mankind that it
is not rank nor titles, but character alone, which interests
posterity. Yet, notwithstanding the pencil
of a Trumbull and the historic pen of a Gordon and
others, many of the component parts of the great
whole will finally be lost. Instances of patience,
perseverance, fortitude, magnanimity, courage, humanity,
and tenderness, which would have graced
the Roman character, are known only to those who
were themselves the actors, and whose modesty will
not suffer them to blazon abroad their own fame.
These, however, will be engraven by Yorick's recording
angel upon unfading tablets, in that repository,
where a just estimate will be made both of
principles and actions.
Your letters of September and January I have
received with much pleasure, and am happy to find
that the partiality of a parent with regard to a very
dear son, had not lessened him in the eyes of his
friends; for praises are often so many inquisitors,
and always a tax where they are lavished. I think
obligation, integrity, and honor, are the predominant
traits of his character; and these are good foundations,
upon which one may reasonably build hopes of
future usefulness. The longer I live in the world,
and the more I see of mankind, the more deeply I
am impressed with the importance and necessity of
good principles and virtuous examples being placed
before youth, in the most amiable and engaging manner,
whilst the mind is uncontaminated, and open to
impressions. Yet precept without example is of little
avail, for habits of the mind are produced by the exertion
of inward practical principles. The "soul's
calm sunshine" can result only from the practice of
virtue, which is congenial to our natures. If happiness
is not the immediate consequence of virtue, as
some devotees to pleasure affirm, yet they will find
that virtue is the indispensable condition of happiness;
and, as the poet expresses it,
But I will quit this subject, lest my good brother
should think I have invaded his province, and subscribe
myself
| Letters of Mrs. Adams, | |