The great variety of society in London, and the solidity of the sense
and information to be gathered from conversation, strike me as far
superior to Parisian society. We know, I think, six different and
totally independent sets, of scientific, literary, political, travelled,
artist, and the fine fashionable, of various shades; and the different
styles of conversation are very entertaining.
Through Lydia White we have become more acquainted with Mrs. Siddons
than I ever expected to be. She gave us the history of her first acting
of _Lady Macbeth_, and of her resolving, in the sleep scene, to lay down
the candlestick, contrary to the precedent of Mrs. Pritchard and all the
traditions, before she began to wash her hands and say, "Out, vile
spot!" Sheridan knocked violently at her door during the five minutes
she had desired to have entirely to herself, to compose her spirits
before the play began. He burst in, and prophesied that she would ruin
herself for ever if she persevered in this resolution _to lay down the
candlestick!_ She persisted, however, in her determination, succeeded,
was applauded, and Sheridan begged her pardon. She described well the
awe she felt, and the power of the excitement given to her by the sight
of Burke, Fox, Sheridan, and Sir Joshua Reynolds in the pit. She invited
us to a private reading-party at her own house: present only her
daughter, a very pretty young lady, a Mrs. Wilkinson, Mr. Burney, Dr.
Holland, Lydia White, Mr. Harness and ourselves. She read one of her
finest parts, and that best suited to a private room--Queen Katherine.
She was dressed so as to do well for the two parts she was to perform
this night, of gentlewoman and queen--black velvet, with black velvet
cap and feathers. She sat the whole time, and with a large Shakespear
before her; as she knew the part of Katherine by heart, she seldom
required the help of glasses, and she recited it incomparably well: the
changes of her countenance were striking. From her first burst of
indignation when she objects to the Cardinal as her judge, to her last
expiring scene, was all so perfectly natural and so touching, we could
give no applause but tears. Mrs. Siddons is beautiful even at this
moment. Some who had seen her on the stage in this part assured me that
it had a much greater effect upon them in a private room, because they
were near enough to see the changes of her countenance, and to hear the
pathos of her half-suppressed voice. Some one said that, in the dying
scene, her very pillow seemed sick.
She spoke afterwards of the different parts which she had liked and
disliked to act; and when she mentioned the characters and scenes she
had found easy or difficult, it was curious to observe that the feelings
of the actress and the sentiments and reasons of the best critics meet.
Whatever was not natural, or inconsistent with the main part of the
character, she found she never could act well.
We spent three days at Easter at the Deepdene; the company there were
Mr. C. Moore, Mr. Philip Henry Hope, Mr. and Miss Burrowes, Mr. Harness,
Lord Fincastle, Lady Clare, and Lady Isabella Fitzgibbon, and Lord
Archibald Hamilton. Deepdene is beautiful at this time of the year--the
hawthorn hedges, the tender green of the larch and the sycamore in full
leaf.
To MRS. EDGEWORTH.