_For the Table Book._
I am the son of a respectable attorney, who sent me, when very young, to
an excellent school, at which I conducted myself much to the
satisfaction of my superiors. It was customary for the scholars to enact
a play at Christmas, to which the friends of the master were invited. On
one of these occasions, when I was now nearly head-boy, I was called
upon to perform the part of Charles Surface, in the admirable comedy of
the School for Scandal. I studied the character, and played it with
great applause, and shortly afterwards left the school, and was sent by
my father to Boulogne to finish my education.
There were then at that place a number of English gentlemen, who were
endeavouring to establish a company of amateurs. On their request I
joined them, and made my first appearance upon a regular stage in the
character of Shylock. It was a decided hit! I was received throughout
with “unbounded applause,” and the next day was highly gratified by
reading “honourable mention” of my performance in the newspapers. I
repeated this and other characters several times with undiminished
success; but, in the very zenith of my popularity, I was recalled to
England by my father, who, having heard of my operations, began to fear
(what afterwards proved to be the case) that I should be induced to
adopt that as a profession, which I had hitherto considered merely as an
amusement.
Soon after my return home my father articled me to himself, but it was
impossible for me to forget my success at Boulogne, and my inclination
for the stage ripened into a determination to become an actor. I
secretly applied to Mr. Sims, of the Harp, who procured me an engagement
in a sharing company in the west of England, where I was to do the “low
comic business” and “second tragedy.” I spent some of the money that I
had saved in buying wigs and a few other stage-requisites, and left my
paternal roof with three pounds in my pocket.
My exchequer not being in a state to afford me the luxury of riding, I
was compelled to walk the last thirty miles of my journey. Upon my
arrival at ----, my first care was to inquire for the theatre, when I
was directed to a barn, which had been dignified by that appellation. I
was received with all possible civility by the company, which consisted
of the manager, his wife, and three gentlemen. I was informed by the
manager that Jane Shore was the play for that evening, and that he
should expect me to perform the part of Belmont, and also that of
Bombastes Furioso in the afterpiece. The wardrobe of the theatre was
unable to afford me a dress superior to my own for the part of Belmont,
I therefore played that character “accoutred as I was,” viz. in a blue
coat, buff waistcoat, striped trowsers, and Wellington’s. The audience
was very select, consisting only of ten persons, who seemed totally
indifferent to the performance, for they never once, in the course of
the evening, gave any indication of pleasure, or the reverse, but
witnessed our efforts to amuse with the most provoking apathy. Between
the pieces I was much surprised by one of the gentlemen requesting the
loan of my hat for a few minutes, as he was about to sing a song, and he
assured me that there was no hat in the company, save mine, which was
worthy to appear before the audience. At the conclusion of the
performance we shared the receipts, which, after deducting the expenses
of the house, amounted to one shilling and sixpence each. We continued
to act for some time, sharing (three nights a week) from about one
shilling and sixpence to two shillings each, which sum did not at all
equal my sanguine expectations. Frequently have I performed kings and
princes after having breakfasted upon a turnip.
I soon found that this mode of living did not suit me, for I was
becoming exceedingly spare. I therefore resolved to quit the company,
and return to London. Having informed the manager of my intention, I
departed, and arrived in the metropolis with twopence in my pocket. I
proceeded to my father’s house, where I was received with kindness, and
where I still continue. I have relinquished all my pretensions to the
sock, having learned from experience that which it was not in the power
of reason to convince me of.