Records Of A Girlhood Volume 1 (1 Of 2) by Frances Ann Kemble (most popular novels of all time TXT) 📖
- Author: Frances Ann Kemble
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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
Volume 1 Chapter 17 Pg 107Entertained 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
Volume 1 Chapter 17 Pg 108Been, 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."
Volume 1 Chapter 18 Pg 109My Friend Left Us After A Visit Of A
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