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Page 15
Three years after the other went way, John's sufferings began to affect
his reason: in a fit of despair, he applied to the devil for that relief
his prayers had failed to bring; and, rising in the dark, he fancied the
devil was close to the hut. John awakened his companion, and taking a
crucifix for protection, ran praying to the other end of the island.
About a fortnight afterwards, John thought he heard his visiter again,
but did not see him. And it now pleased God to relieve them: they saw a
ship, and made a great smoke upon their tower, which was seen. John and
his companion were carried to the Havannah, where their appearance and
story attracted great attention. John was twice sick during the eight
years, both times in August, and both times bled himself.--_Southey's
Chronological History of the West Indies._
* * * * *
FIRST APPEARANCES OF MISS STEPHENS AND MR. KEAN.
During this memorable era of the British Stage, Mr. Hazlit was engaged
as theatrical reporter to the _Morning Chronicle_, newspaper, then
conducted by Mr. Perry, and printed on the exact site of the MIRROR
office: in his _Table Talk_ he gives the following portraiture of
their theatrical successes:--
What squabbles we used to have about Kean and Miss Stephens, the only
theatrical favourites I ever had! Mrs. Billington had got some notion
that Miss Stephens would never make a singer, and it was the torment of
Perry's life (as he told me in confidence) that he could not get any two
people to be of the same opinion on any one point. I shall not easily
forget bringing him my account of her first appearance in the
_Beggar's Opera_. I have reason to remember that article: it was
almost the last I ever wrote with any pleasure to myself. I had been
down on a visit to my friends near Chertsey, and, on my return, had
stopped at an inn at Kingston-upon-Thames, where I had got the
_Beggar's Opera_, and had read it overnight. The next day I walked
cheerfully to town. It was a fine sunny morning, in the end of autumn,
and as I repeated the beautiful song, "Life knows no return of spring,"
I meditated my next day's criticism, trying to do all the justice I
could to so inviting a subject. I was not a little proud of it by
anticipation. I had just then begun to stammer out my sentiments on
paper, and was in a kind of honey-moon of authorship.
I deposited my account of the play at the _Morning Chronicle_
office in the afternoon, and went to see Miss Stephens as Polly. Those
were happy times, in which she first came out in this character, in
Mandane, where she sang the delicious air, "If o'er the cruel tyrant
Love," (so as it can never be sung again,) in _Love in a Village_,
where the scene opened with her and Miss Matthews in a painted garden of
roses and honeysuckles, and "Hope thou nurse of young Desire," thrilled
from two sweet voices in turn. Oh! may my ears sometimes still drink the
same sweet sounds, embalmed with the spirit of youth, of health, and
joy, but in the thoughts of an instant, but in a dream of fancy, and I
shall hardly need to complain! When I got back, after the play, Perry
called out, with his cordial, grating voice, "Well, how did she do?" and
on my speaking in high terms, answered, that "he had been to dine with
his friend the duke, that some conversation had passed on the subject,
he was afraid it was not the thing, it was not the true _sostenuto_
style; but as I had written the article" (holding my peroration on the
_Beggar's Opera_ carelessly in his hand) "it might pass!" I could
perceive that the rogue licked his lips at it, and had already in
imagination "bought golden opinions of all sorts of people" by this very
criticism, and I had the satisfaction the next day to meet Miss Stephens
coming out of the editor's room, who had been to thank him for his very
flattering account of her.
I was sent to see Kean the first night of his performance of Shylock,
when there were about a hundred people in the pit, but from his masterly
and spirited delivery of the first striking speech, "On such a day you
called me dog," &c. I perceived it was a hollow thing. So it was given
out in the _Chronicle_, but Perry was continually at me as other
people were at him, and was afraid it would not last. It was to no
purpose I said it _would last_: yet I am in the right hitherto.
It has been said, ridiculously, that Mr. Kean was written up in the
_Chronicle_. I beg leave to state my opinion that no actor can be
written up or down by a paper. An author may be puffed into notice, or
damned by criticism, because his book may not have been read. An artist
may be over-rated, or undeservedly decried, because the public is not
much accustomed to see or judge of pictures. But an actor is judged by
his peers, the play-going public, and must stand or fall by his own
merits or defects. The critic may give the tone or have a casting voice
where popular opinion is divided; but he can no more _force_ that
opinion either way, or wrest it from its base in common-sense and
feeling, than he can move Stonehenge. Mr. Kean had, however, physical
disadvantages and strong prejudices to encounter, and so far the
_liberal_ and _independent_ part of the press might have been
of service in helping him to his seat in the public favour.
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