“About six years afterwards I was called upon to act the same character

in London. By this time I had perceived the difficulty of assuming a

personage with whom no one feeling of common general nature was

congenial or assistant. One’s own heart could prompt one to express with

some degree of truth the sentiments of a mother, a daughter, a wife, a

lover, a sister, &c.; but to adopt this character must be an effort of

the judgment alone.”

In accordance with this, Mrs. Siddons has been known to say, that Lady

Macbeth gave her more trouble than any other of her characters, both in

settling her conception of the poet’s meaning, and determining the means

of giving effect to it. Her success however in the eyes of the public

was complete: in Mr. Campbell’s words, “the moment she seized the part

she identified her image with it in the minds of the living generation.”

She appeared in it for the first time in London, February 2, 1785. Smith

played Macbeth. As in the case of Constance, Mrs. Siddons has left, in

an elaborate essay on the character of Lady Macbeth, interesting

evidence of the deep study which she bestowed on her profession; a point

in which, as well as in general mental cultivation, the Kemble family

have been advantageously distinguished from others even of our

first-rate actors. It is scarcely possible to conceive ‘Macbeth’ so well

performed as when the principal characters were filled by Mrs. Siddons

and Kemble: the actors might have been thought born for the parts. The

same may be said of ‘Coriolanus,’ in which they appeared together for

the first time in February, 1789. But the season of 1785 is also

memorable for Mrs. Siddons’s first appearance in Desdemona, a character

as widely different from the Scottish Queen as can well be imagined. Yet

it is recorded to have been one of the actress’s most exquisite

performances; and this is one of the strongest proofs of her

extraordinary talent. Unsuitable as her person, voice, and general

demeanour may seem to those who knew her only in her later days, we have

the undeniable testimony of competent judges to the grace, loveliness,

and sweetness with which she personated the gentle Venetian. Her very

stature, Mr. Boaden says, seemed to be lowered. Ophelia she performed

once, and once only, for her benefit, May 15, 1786, to her brother’s

Hamlet; and, though a poor singer, she rendered the part deeply

affecting. Juliet she also performed, we believe once only, for her

benefit in 1789. Cordelia and Imogen are to be added to the list of

characters of the gentler cast. The former was not one of her most

popular, probably not one of her most effective, performances, for Lear

is said to have been almost the only play in which, when both were on

the stage, the brother made a stronger impression than the sister. The

pure, gentle dignity of Imogen must have found in her a most effective

representative.

In the autumn of 1783, about a year before Dr. Johnson’s death, Mrs.

Siddons, at his own request, paid him a visit, which was several times

repeated. He expressed a strong desire to see her in Queen Katherine,

his favourite character among Shakspeare’s females. He was not so

gratified; for the play was not brought forward until November 28, 1788,

after an absence from the stage of near half a century. This, like Lady

Macbeth, we must regard as one of Mrs. Siddons’s peculiar characters.

“It was an era,” Mr. Campbell says, “not only in Mrs. Siddons’s history,

but in the fortune of the play as an acting piece; for certainly, in the

history of all female performance on the British stage, there is no

specific tradition of any excellence at all approaching to hers as Queen

Katherine.” The two principal scenes belonging to the part are

strikingly contrasted. The high mind and majestic deportment of the

actress, and the sarcasm which she pours out on the Cardinal, render the

Trial Scene one of the most effective on the stage; and it has

fortunately been preserved from oblivion by the pencil of Harlowe. But

the last scene, in the sick chamber, was among the strongest proofs of

Mrs. Siddons’s close adherence to nature, and one of her greatest

triumphs over the difficulties of her art, enhanced as they were by the

extravagant dimensions of the modern theatres. It may be mentioned to

show her confidence in her own judgment as to the truth of nature that,

though the audience in the gallery sometimes asked her to speak louder,

she never obeyed the call; but left the architect responsible for any

failure of effect, rather than herself overstep the bounds of propriety

in the most solemn event of human life.

Mrs. Siddons quitted Drury Lane for the season 1789–90, in consequence

of the difficulty of obtaining her salary while the treasury was in the

hands of Sheridan. She was induced by promises to return in the

following season; but a weak state of health prevented her playing more

than seven nights, and she appeared in no new character; nor, during the

summer of 1791, did she act on any provincial stage. She returned to

Drury Lane in 1794, after the rebuilding of the theatre, and remained

there until 1802; when the impossibility of rescuing the reward of her

labours from that “drowning gulf,” as she justly calls Sheridan in one

of her letters, drove her away finally. The most remarkable of her new

characters, during this period of eight years, were Millwood, in ‘George

Barnwell,’ and Agnes, in ‘Fatal Curiosity,’ both plays of Lillo; Mrs.

Haller; Elvira in ‘Pizarro,’ which, in spite of the demerits of the

play, she rendered one of her most popular characters; and Hermione, in

the ‘Winter’s Tale,’ her last new part, which she acted for the first

time, March 25, 1802. The statue scene was one of her most extraordinary

performances, both for its illusion while she remained motionless, and

for the effect produced by her descent from the pedestal, and

recognition of her daughter Perdita.

In one of her early performances of this character she met with an

accident which might well have ended fatally. The muslin draperies in

which she was enveloped caught fire from a lamp; fortunately, one of the

scene-men saw and extinguished it before it spread. Her gratitude for

his interposition is eloquently expressed in her correspondence; and her

warmth of feeling was subsequently evinced in the pains which she took

to procure for the man’s son, who had deserted from the army, remission

from what she justly calls “the horrid torture and disgrace of the

lash,” and in the lively pleasure which she expresses in the prospect of

succeeding.

Upon her final departure from Drury Lane, Mrs. Siddons formed an

engagement at Covent Garden, where she appeared for the first time,

September 27, 1803. She continued there until June 29, 1812, on which

day she bid farewell to the stage. During this time she performed in no

new characters, nor is any circumstance which requires notice recorded

of this part of her professional life. In her last season we find that,

of her earlier characters, she performed Isabella, in ‘The Fatal

Marriage,’ twice; Isabella, in ‘Measure for Measure,’ seven times;

Euphrasia, twice; Belvidera, six times; and Mrs. Beverley, four times.

It may perhaps be taken as an indication of that by which she wished

chiefly to be remembered, that she played Lady Macbeth ten times, and

chose it for her farewell. Queen Katherine she played six times;

Constance and Volumnia, four times each; Elvira, five times; Mrs.

Haller, twice; Hermione, four times. On her last appearance the house

was crowded to excess, and the excitement of the occasion was testified

by a general demand that the play should be stopped after Lady Macbeth’s

appearance in the sleeping scene. Mrs. Siddons returned to the boards on

various occasions, chiefly for her brother Charles’s benefit: her last

performance was in the part of Lady Randolph, June 9, 1819.

In giving, in addition to what we have already said, a short general

notice of the professional merits of Mrs. Siddons, we shall confine our

remarks chiefly to those characters which better suited her maturer

years, in which alone a large majority of our readers can have seen her.

She was throughout the tragic department the unrivalled actress of her

time; though in such parts as Belvidera, Desdemona, Cordelia, &c., the

power of exciting the sympathy of an audience might have been shared

with her by Mrs. Cibber and other of her predecessors, or by her

successors, Miss O’Neil or Miss Kemble. But in one respect she stands

alone in her profession: she was the most intellectual of actresses. She

was a person of deep thought, and an habitual student of nature with a

view to the perfection of her art; and that as much, or more, in

advanced life, than when she had her reputation to make or to enjoy in

the first years of her celebrity. Mrs. Siddons sat day after day in her

study, looking at Shakspeare and whatever bore upon him, not as if he

were the mere poet of the stage, furnishing an outline to be filled up

by her peculiar powers, but as if he were the high priest and expositor

of human nature, whose lessons it was the serious business of her life

to learn, and having learned, to teach.

We shall not add to what we have already said of her Queen Katherine, or

Lady Macbeth, except one circumstance, illustrative of the above

position. Mrs. Siddons, who repeatedly read ‘Macbeth’ before the most

competent judges, made a deeper and more lasting impression, not only in

her own part, but in the other characters, than did the representation

on the stage by her brother and herself, with all the advantages of

dress and the illusion of scenery. The audience, at her readings,

consisting of men and women of taste and literature, professed never to

have understood Shakspeare so thoroughly before.

Her Isabella, in ‘Measure for Measure,’ claims a short notice. This play

in Garrick’s reign was acted occasionally to empty benches in the dull

part of the season; but neither the manager himself, nor his leading

performers, condescended to appear in so grave and sermonizing a piece.

Even when played by Kemble and his sister, it did not draw crowded

houses; but it ensured a critical and enlightened audience. The theatre

seldom contained so many men of the first reputation for taste and

literature as when that play was performed. John Kemble’s mind was

framed in the same mould with his sister’s; he gave to a sententious and

philosophic part dignity and interest, where an ordinary actor would

preach his audience to sleep. The scene between the Duke in the disguise

of a Confessor, and Isabella, excited neither tears nor rapturous

applause, but intense interest, and breathless attention. The Duke’s

exposition of his project is long, her intervening speeches short, and

not emphatic; so that such a scene bids fair to be called _prosing_. But

the intense and intelligent expression in her eyes, and more perhaps in

her mouth, the great seat of expression, filled up whatever was wanting:

the gradually increasing, but as yet far from complete comprehension of

the device, and of its consistency with her own purity, marked without

words what was passing in her mind: but when she exclaims “The image of

it gives me content already, and I trust it will grow to a most

prosperous perfection,” the burst of perfect understanding, the lighting

up of every feature, and the tones of sudden joy, produced a

corresponding effect in the spectators, which scenes of intense pathos

could scarcely surpass in effect. Mrs. Siddons’s power over the mind was

as great as over the passions.

Another extraordinary performance was her Millwood, in ‘George

Barnwell.’ She took that part, which had never been played by a

first-rate actress, in hopes that she might be of service to her brother

Charles, then a young actor, who was to be brought forward as Barnwell.

In the early scenes the severity of her blandishments bordered on the

ludicrous; she was more like Barnwell’s mother than his mistress: but in

her scene of dissimulation with Thorowgood, and in her subsequent arrest

and diabolically triumphant avowal of the motive of her conduct through

life, the desire to revenge her wrongs on the opposite sex, she

pourtrayed wickedness with grand and appalling force. Her thundering

exclamation, “I know you, and I hate you all; I expect no mercy, and I

ask for none,” was made with a withering effect. The scene in ‘Fatal

Curiosity,’ in which Agnes suggests to her husband the murder of their

unknown son, was another of her wonderful exhibitions: in Mr. Campbell’s

words, “it made the flesh of the spectator creep.”

Mrs. Siddons is said to have thought well of her own talents for comedy;

and her reading of Shakspeare’s characters of low humour was admirable.

She played at different times Katherine, in ‘The Taming of the Shrew,’

and Rosalind; as well as Mrs. Oakley, and a few other characters of the

modern drama. There seems to have been nothing against her success in

genteel comedy but a deficiency of animal spirits. Her delivery of the

level conversation in tragedy was easy, graceful, and refined. Her

representation of the early scenes in ‘The Gamester,’ where she had

merely to personate an elegant and highbred woman, bearing up against

present anxiety and impending misfortune, was as attractive and as

finished as her deep tragedy in the sequel was pathetic and harrowing.

And in the first scenes of Mrs. Haller, the charm of her manners and

delivery imparted interest even to the dull detail of a housekeeper’s

weekly routine.

We subjoin a list of the parts which Mrs. Siddons performed in London.

The reader will be surprised to find how many of them are in plays all

but forgotten, and utterly unworthy of her talents. In those marked (*)

she made her first appearance for her own benefit: in those marked (†),

for John Kemble’s.

Characters. Plays.

1782–3.

Isabella Fatal Marriage

Euphrasia Grecian Daughter

Jane Shore Jane Shore

Calista Fair Penitent

*Belvidera Venice Preserved

*Zara Mourning Bride

1783–4.

Isabella Measure for Measure

Mrs. Beverley Gamester

Constance King John

*Lady Randolph Douglas

Countess of Salisbury Countess of Salisbury (_Hartson._)

*Sigismunda Tancred and Sigismunda

1784–5.

Margaret of Anjou Earl of Warwick (_Franklin._)

Zara Zara (_from Voltaire._)

Matilda Carmelite (_Cumberland._)

Camiola Maid of Honour

*Lady Macbeth Macbeth

Desdemona Othello

Elfrida Elfrida (_Mason._)

Rosalind As you like it

1785–6.

The Duchess Duke of Braganza (_Jephson._)

Mrs. Lovemore Way to keep Him

*Hermione Distressed Mother

*Ophelia, and the Lady in

Comus

Malvina The Captives (_Delap._)

Elwina Percy (_Miss H. More._)

1786–7.

Cleone Cleone (_Dodsley._)

Imogen Cymbeline

Hortensia Count of Narbonne (_Jephson._)

†Lady Restless All in the Wrong

Julia Italian Lovers (_Jephson._)

Alicia Jane Shore

1787–8.

Cordelia Lear

Cleonice Fall of Sparta (_Mrs. Cowley._)

†Katherine Taming the Shrew

Dionara Regent (_Greatheed._)

*Cleopatra All for Love

1788–9.

Queen Katherine Henry VIII.

Volumnia Coriolanus

*The Princess and Mrs. Riot Law of Lombardy (_Jephson._)

Lethe (_Farce. Garrick._)

Mary Mary Queen of Scots (_St. John._)

*Juliet Romeo and Juliet

1791–2.

Queen Elizabeth Richard III.

Mrs. Oakley Jealous Wife

1792–3.

Ariadne Ariadne (_Murphy._)

1793–4.

Countess Orsini Emilia Galotti (_from Lessing._)

1794–5.

Horatia Roman Father (_Whitehead._)

Elvira Edwyn and Elgiva (_Miss Burney._)

Palmira Mahomet (_from Voltaire._)

Emmeline Edgar and Emmeline (_Afterpiece._)

1795–6.

Roxana Alexander the Great (_Lee._)

Almeyda Queen of Granada (_Miss Lee._)

Julia Such Things were (_Prince Hoare._)

1796–7.

Eleanora Edwin and Eleonora (_Thomson._)

Vitellia Conspiracy (_Jephson._)

Millwood George Barnwell

Athenais Force of Love (_Lee._)

Aspasia Tamerlane (_Rowe._)

Dido Queen of Carthage (_Reed._)

Agnes Fatal Curiosity

1797–8.

Julia Rivals

Mrs. Haller Stranger

1798–9.

Miranda Aurelio and Miranda (_Boaden._)

Countess Castle of Montval (_Dr. Whalley._)

Elvira Pizarro

1799–1800.

Adelaide Adelaide (_Pye._)

Lady Jane De Montfort

1800–1.

Helena Antonio (_Godwin._)

Agnes Julian and Agnes (_Sotheby._)

1802.

Hermione Winter’s Tale

Of Mrs. Siddons’s private life it is not necessary for us to speak at

length. She had a full share of domestic troubles; and suffered the most

poignant sorrow which could have befallen her affectionate temper, in

the successive deaths of two lovely daughters in the prime of youth, and

of her eldest son at a more advanced age. Nor was she exempted by her

brilliant success and large gains from great anxiety upon pecuniary

matters, and from the necessity of diligent labour at times when rest

would have been most grateful to a distressed spirit, and a body

weakened by frequent indisposition. And she made it her boast that she

had never wilfully disappointed either a manager or the public; and that

in point of punctuality, she had always been _an honest actress_. But

Mr. Siddons lost money in some unfortunate speculations; and this,

combined with the extreme difficulty of extracting from Sheridan her

salary, or even the proceeds of her benefits, kept Mrs. Siddons poor for

many years. It is however gratifying to know that the evening of her

life was spent in affluence.

In social intercourse Mrs. Siddons commanded the respect of all, the

admiration and love of those who knew her intimately. To a

constitutional want of animal spirits, and to a fear of that

presumptuous intrusion to which actresses are often exposed, we may

attribute a gravity, not to say severity of manner, from which distant

observers sometimes inferred a corresponding severity of character. That

this was not the case, that she was benevolent, cheerful, and

affectionately interested in the welfare of all who enjoyed her

friendship, is shown by the testimony of many, and by the evidence of

her own actions.

To be courted by the rich and noble is not the best proof or reward even

of professional merit; and no one ever was less disposed than Mrs.

Siddons to act the part of what is called _a lion_. But it should be

mentioned that her acquaintance was eagerly cultivated among the highest

of the land; and that she was personally esteemed by George III. and his

queen, and often summoned to attend on their private circle. She

possessed a still higher honour, and one which she is said to have

esteemed more highly, in the admiration and friendship of Johnson,

Reynolds, Burke, Fox, and other intellectual ornaments of the age.

After quitting the stage, Mrs. Siddons gave public readings of poetry at

the Argyle Rooms, and also, by special invitation from the Universities,

at Cambridge and Oxford. At home her readings of Shakspeare were the

delight of large and frequent parties, till within a year or two of her

death. The latter years of her life were spent, the winter months at her

house in London, the summer months at some watering-place, and in visits

to her numerous friends. Time laid his touch gently on her noble face

and person; and to the end of life she looked some years younger than

her age, and preserved her mental powers unimpaired. She died June 8,

1831, in her seventy-sixth year.

We need hardly refer to the Lives of Messrs. Boaden and Campbell. The

interest of the latter is much increased by the critical and other

writings of Mrs. Siddons, with which it is interspersed.

[Illustration: [Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse, from Sir J. Reynolds.]]

[Illustration:

_Engraved by E. Scriven._

SIR W. HERSCHELL.

_From a Crayon Picture by the late J. Russell, Esq^{re}. R.A. in the

possession of Sir John Herschell._

Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful

Knowledge.

_London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._

]

[Illustration]

HERSCHEL.

William Herschel was born at Hanover, November 15, 1738. His father was

a musician, and brought up his four sons to his own art, which in

Germany gave him better means of educating his children, than would have

fallen to the lot of a person holding the same station in England. The

subject of our memoir is said to have had a master who instructed him in

French, ethics, and metaphysics: but at the age of fourteen he was

placed in the band of the Hanoverian regiment of guards, and in 1758 or

1759 he accompanied a detachment of the regiment to England. Another

account states that he grew tired of his occupation, and came to England

alone. Here, after struggling with poverty for some time, he was chosen

by Lord Darlington to organize a band for the Durham militia; after

which he passed several years in the West Riding of Yorkshire, employed

in teaching music and studying languages. About 1765 he was elected

organist at Halifax, and employed himself in the study of harmony and

mathematics. Such at least is the statement of the ‘Obituary;’ but in

that respectable work we find no references to the sources from which

these minute particulars of Herschel’s early life are obtained. About

this time he is said to have visited Italy; and, without professing to

give credit to it, we may here insert a curious story which appears to

have been copied into English works from the ‘Dictionnaire des Auteurs

Vivans,’ &c., Paris, 1816. Being at Genoa, and not having wherewith to

pay his passage home to England, he procured from a M. L’Anglé the use

of some public rooms for a concert, at which he played a quartett,

alone, upon a harp, and two horns, one fastened to each shoulder. Those

who are in the least acquainted with wind instruments will hardly

believe that a horn fastened to the shoulder would be of much more use

than one growing out of the head, as a musical instrument; to say

nothing of the difficulty of blowing two horns at once, or of playing a

_quartett_ upon _three_ instruments. Remarkable characters are generally

made the subject of wonderful stories, of which each is fashioned in

accordance with the general habits of the inventor: the groom’s idea of

a wit was “a gentleman who could ride three horses at once;” surely two

horns and a harp are not too much to be played at once by a planetary

discoverer.

About 1766, he is said to have been one of the Pump-room band at Bath,

and was shortly afterwards organist of the Octagon Chapel there. He

taught and read as before; and here he turned his attention to

astronomy. He borrowed a small reflecting telescope of a friend; and at

length, finding that the purchase of such an instrument was

(“fortunately,” as it has been well expressed,) above his means, he

endeavoured to construct one for himself. His first attempt was a

five-feet Newtonian reflector. It was some time before he perfected

himself in the method of forming mirrors: in one instance he is said to

have spoiled 200 before he succeeded.

In 1781, he announced to the world the discovery of his new planet, of

which we shall presently speak. He was immediately appointed private

astronomer to the King, by George III., a post which, we believe, was

created for him, and died with him, with a salary of £400, and removed,

first to Datchet, afterwards to Slough, where he continued till his

death, August 23, 1822. During this period he ran that career of patient

and sagacious investigation, terminating in brilliant discovery, which

has made his name so well known to the world. Little has been published

concerning his private life; but the whole results of his mind are to be

found in the ‘Philosophical Transactions’ between the years 1782 and

1818.

We have not been able to find the dates of his knighthood, or of his

receiving the degree of Doctor of Civil Law from the University of

Oxford. He married (we cannot find the date) Mrs. Mary Pitt, a widow;

and his only son, Sir John Herschel, has selected from the many tasks to

which he is competent, that of developing and adding to his father’s

discoveries.

The Gallery of Portraits: with Memoirs. Volume 5 (of 7) · 第 10 / 20 段