ARLINGTON STREET, _Jan._ 28, 1772.
It is long indeed, dear Sir, since we corresponded. I should not have
been silent if I had anything worth telling you in your way; but I grow
such an antiquity myself, that I think I am less fond of what remains of
our predecessors.
I thank you for Bannerman's proposal; I mean, for taking the trouble to
send it, for I am not at all disposed to subscribe. I thank you more for
the note on King Edward; I mean, too, for your friendship in thinking of
me. Of Dean Milles I cannot trouble myself to think any more. His piece
is at Strawberry: perhaps I may look at it for the sake of your note.
The bad weather keeps me in town, and a good deal at home; which I find
very comfortable, literally practising what so many persons pretend they
intend, being quiet and enjoying my fire-side in my elderly days.
Mr. Mason has shown me the relics of poor Mr. Gray. I am sadly
disappointed at finding them so very inconsiderable. He always
persisted, when I inquired about his writings, that he had nothing by
him. I own I doubted. I am grieved he was so very near exact--I speak
of my own satisfaction; as to his genius, what he published during his
life will establish his fame as long as our language lasts, and there is
a man of genius left. There is a silly fellow, I don't know who, that
has published a volume of Letters on the English Nation, with characters
of our modern authors. He has talked such nonsense on Mr. Gray, that I
have no patience with the compliments he has paid me. He must have an
excellent taste! and gives me a woful opinion of my own trifles, when he
likes them, and cannot see the beauties of a poet that ought to be
ranked in the first line.
I am more humbled by any applause in the present age, than by hosts of
such critics as Dean Milles. Is not Garrick reckoned a tolerable actor?
His Cymon, his prologues and epilogues, and forty such pieces of trash,
are below mediocrity, and yet delight the mob in the boxes as well as in
the footman's gallery. I do not mention the things written in his
praise; because he writes most of them himself. But you know any one
popular merit can confer all merit. Two women talking of Wilkes, one
said he squinted--t'other replied, "Squints!--well, if he does, it is
not more than a man should squint." For my part, I can see how extremely
well Garrick acts, without thinking him six feet high.[1]
[Footnote 1: He is quoting Churchill's "Rosciad"--
When the pure genuine flame, by nature taught,
Springs into sense, and every action's thought;
Before such merit all objections fly,
Pritchard's genteel, and Garrick six feet high--
the great actor being a short man.]
It is said Shakespeare was a bad actor; why do not his divine plays make
our wise judges conclude that he was a good one? They have not a proof
of the contrary, as they have in Garrick's works--but what is it to you
or me what he is? We may see him act with pleasure, and nothing obliges
us to read his writings.
_MARRIAGE OF THE PRETENDER--THE PRINCESS LOUISE, AND HER PROTECTION OF
THE CLERGY--FOX'S ELOQUENCE._