The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb
Chapter 59 : _Examiner_, July 4 and 5, 1819. Signed ****. Richard Brome's "Jovial Crew; or

_Examiner_, July 4 and 5, 1819. Signed ****. Richard Brome's "Jovial Crew; or, The Merry Beggars," was first acted in 1641, and continually revived since then, although it is now no longer seen. Indeed our opportunities are few to-day of seeing most of the plays that Lamb praised. The revival criticised by Lamb began at the English Opera House (the Lyceum) on June 29, 1819.

Page 219, line 7 from foot. _Lovegrove._ William Lovegrove (1778-1816), a famous character actor. He ceased to be seen at except rare intervals after 1814.

Page 219, line 5 from foot. _Dowton._ See note to "The New Acting," page 465.

Page 220, line 3. _Wrench._ Benjamin Wrench (1778-1843), a comedian of the school of Elliston.

Page 220, line 6. _Miss Stevenson._ This actress afterwards became Mrs.

Wiepperts.

Page 220, line 12. _She that played Rachel._ Miss Kelly. Lamb returned to his praise of this piece and of Miss Kelly in it in a note to the "Garrick Plays," but he there credited her with playing Meriel.

Page 220, line 15 from foot. "_Pretty Bessy._" In the old ballad "The Beggar's Daughter of Bednall Green," Bessie was the daughter of Henry, son of Simon de Montfort.

Page 220, line 6 from foot. _Society for the Suppression of Mendicity._ Lamb returned to the attack upon this body in his _Elia_ essay "On the Decay of Beggars," in 1822.

It has recently come to light that Charles Lamb proposed marriage to Miss Kelly on July 20, 1819, and was refused; and this proposal is so intimately a.s.sociated with two of the _Examiner_ articles that I place the story of it here.

On July 4th appeared Lamb's article on "The Jovial Crew" with Miss Kelly as Rachel. To read this article in ignorance of the critic's innermost feelings for the actress is to experience no more than the customary intellectual t.i.tillation that is imparted by a piece of rich appreciation from such a pen; but to read it knowing what was in his mind at the time is a totally different thing. What before was mere inspired dramatic criticism becomes a revelation charged with human interest. Read again the pa.s.sage from "But the _Princess of Mumpers_, and _Lady Paramount_, of beggarly counterfeit accents, was _she_ that played _Rachel_," down to "'What a la.s.s that were,' said a stranger who sate beside us, speaking of Miss Kelly in _Rachel_, 'to go a gypseying through the world with.'" Knowing what we do of Charles Lamb's little ways, we can be in no doubt as to the ident.i.ty of the stranger who was fabled to have sate beside him.

Miss Kelly would of course read the criticism, and being a woman, and a woman of genius, would probably be not wholly unaware of the significance of a portion of it; and therefore perhaps she was not wholly unprepared for Lamb's letter of proposal, which he wrote a fortnight later.

"20 July, 1819.

"DEAR MISS KELLY,--We had the pleasure, _pain_ I might better call it, of seeing you last night in the new Play. It was a most consummate piece of Acting, but what a task for you to undergo! at a time when your heart is sore from real sorrow! it has given rise to a train of thinking, which I cannot suppress.

"Would to G.o.d you were released from this way of life; that you could bring your mind to consent to take your lot with us, and throw off for ever the whole burden of your Profession. I neither expect or wish you to take notice of this which I am writing, in your present over occupied & hurried state.--But to think of it at your leisure. I have quite income enough, if that were all, to justify for me making such a proposal, with what I may call even a handsome provision for my survivor. What you possess of your own would naturally be appropriated to those, for whose sakes chiefly you have made so many hard sacrifices. I am not so foolish as not to know that I am a most unworthy match for such a one as you, but you have for years been a princ.i.p.al object in my mind. In many a sweet a.s.sumed character I have learned to love you, but simply as F. M. Kelly I love you better than them all. Can you quit these shadows of existence, & come & be a reality to us? can you leave off harra.s.sing yourself to please a thankless mult.i.tude, who know nothing of you, & begin at last to live to yourself & your friends?

"As plainly & frankly as I have seen you give or refuse a.s.sent in some feigned scene, so frankly do me the justice to answer me. It is impossible I should feel injured or aggrieved by your telling me at once, that the proposal does not suit you. It is impossible that I should ever think of molesting you with idle importunity and persecution after your mind once firmly spoken--but happier, far happier, could I have leave to hope a time might come, when our friends might be your friends; our interests yours; our book-knowledge, if in that inconsiderable particular we have any little advantage, might impart something to you, which you would every day have it in your power ten thousand fold to repay by the added cheerfulness and joy which you could not fail to bring as a dowry into whatever family should have the honor and happiness of receiving _you_, the most welcome accession that could be made to it.

"In haste, but with entire respect & deepest affection, I subscribe myself

C. LAMB."

This was Miss Kelly's reply to Lamb's letter, returned by hand--the way, I imagine, in which his proposal had reached her:--

"Henrietta Street, July 20th, 1819.

"An early & deeply rooted attachment has fixed my heart on one from whom no worldly prospect can well induce me to withdraw it, but while I thus _frankly_ & decidedly decline your proposal, believe me, I am not insensible to the high honour which the preference of such a mind as yours confers upon me--let me, however, hope that all thought upon this subject will end with this letter, & that you will henceforth encourage no other sentiment towards me than esteem in my private character and a continuance of that approbation of my humble talents which you have already expressed so much & so often to my advantage and gratification.

"Believe me I feel proud to acknowledge myself "Your obliged friend "F. M. KELLY."

Lamb also replied at once, and his little romance was over, July 20th, 1819, seeing the whole drama played.

"July 20th, 1819.

"DEAR MISS KELLY,--_Your injunctions shall be obeyed to a t.i.ttle._ I feel myself in a lackadaisacal no-how-ish kind of a humour. I believe it is the rain, or something. I had thought to have written seriously, but I fancy I succeed best in epistles of mere fun; puns & _that_ nonsense. You will be good friends with us, will you not?

let what has past 'break no bones' between us. You will not refuse us them next time we send for them?[68]

"Yours very truly,

"C. L.

"Do you observe the delicacy of not signing my full name? N.B. Do not paste that last letter of mine into your Book."

[68] By "bones" Lamb here means also the little ivory discs which were given by the management to friends, ent.i.tling them to free admission to the theatre.

I have said that the drama was played to the end on July 20th; but it had a little epilogue. In _The Examiner_ for August 1st Lamb wrote of the Lyceum again. The play was "The Hypocrite," and this is how he spoke of Miss Kelly: "She is in truth not framed to tease or torment even in jest, but to utter a hearty _Yes_ or _No_; to yield or refuse a.s.sent with a n.o.ble sincerity. We have not the pleasure of being acquainted with her, but we have been told that she carries the same cordial manners into private life."

That Lamb's wishes with regard to the old footing were realised we may feel sure, for she continued to visit her friends, both in London and at Enfield, and in later years was taught Latin by Mary Lamb. Miss Kelly died unmarried at the age of ninety-two; Charles Lamb died unmarried at the age of fifty-nine.

Page 221. IV.--ISAAC BICKERSTAFF'S "HYPOCRITE."

_Examiner_, August 1 and 2, 1819. Signed ****. This play was produced, in its operatic form, at the English Opera House on July 27, 1819. It was announced as from "Tartuffe," by Moliere, with alterations by Cibber, Bickerstaff and others. The music was arranged by Mr. Jolly.

Miss Kelly played Charlotte.

Page 221, line 4. _Dowton in Dr. Cantwell._ For Dowton see note to "The New Acting," page 465. Dr. Cantwell was the chief character in "The Hypocrite."

Page 221, line 5. _Mr. Arnold._ Samuel James Arnold (1774-1852), dramatist and manager of the Lyceum. Lamb's friend, William Ayrton, married Arnold's sister.

Page 221, line 6. _Mathews._ The great Charles Mathews (1776-1835), whom Lamb afterwards came to know personally, whose special gift was the rapid impersonation of differing types.

Page 221, line 9. _Our favourite theatre._ The English Opera House--the Lyceum--rebuilt 1816.

Page 221, line 10 from foot. _Mr. Kean._ Edmund Kean (1787-1833).

Page 221, line 9 from foot. "_The City Madam._" A play by Philip Ma.s.singer, licensed 1632, in which Luke Frugal is the leading character.

Page 222, lines 3-5. _Whitfield ... Lady Huntingdon._ George Whitefield (1714-1770), the great Methodist preacher, and chaplain to the Countess of Huntingdon. Whitefield was actually put on the stage, in "The Mirror," by Foote, in 1760, as Dr. Squintum.

Page 222, line 13. _Mr. Pearman._ William Pearman, the tenor, a popular singer, second only to Braham in sea songs.

Page 222. V.--NEW PIECES AT THE LYCEUM.

_Examiner_, August 8 and 9, 1819. Signed ****. This criticism was introduced by the following note by Leigh Hunt:--

We must make the public acquainted with a hard case of ours.--Here had we been writing a long elaborate, critical, and a.n.a.lytical account of the new pieces at the Lyceum, poring over the desk for two hours in the morning after a late night, and melting away what little had been left of our brains and nerves from the usual distillation of the week, when an impudent rogue of a friend, whose most daring tricks and pretences carry as good a countenance with them as virtues in any other man, and who has the face, above all, to be a better critic than ourselves, sends us the following remarks of his own on those two very pieces. What do we do? The self-love of your inferior critic must vent itself somehow; and so we take this opportunity of showing our virtue at the expense of our talents, and fairly making way for the interloper.

Dear, nine closely-written octavo pages! you were very good after all, between you and me; and should have given way to n.o.body else.

If there is room left, a piece of you shall be got in at the end; for virtue is undoubtedly its own reward, but not quite.