3

to her own personal reminiscences, and "Now do, my dear child, be persuaded to most of her anecdotes of the best-known give up this extraordinary delusion; let it, I persons have an air of freshness and nov-beg, be recorded of us both, that this pleasing elty. Rogers made a dinner to introduce and intelligent young lady labored under the her to Lady Holland, and the impression left upon her by that imperious lady was so disagreeable, that for a time it involved every member of the party in a halo of undistinguishing dislike in her mind.

My sister had joined us in the evening, and sat for a few moments by Lady Holland, who dropped her handkerchief. Adelaide, who was as unpleasantly impressed as myself by that lady, for a moment made no attempt to pick it up; but, reflecting upon her age and size, which made it difficult for her to stoop for it herself, my sister picked it up and presented it to her, when Lady Holland, taking it from her, merely said, "Ah! I thought you'd do it." Adelaide said she felt an almost irresistible inclination to twitch it from her hand, throw it on the ground again, and say, "Did you? then now do it yourself!"

This was a favorite manoeuvre of Lady Holland. Sitting next Count d'Orsay at dinner she dropped her handkerchief a second time, upon which, picking it up and presenting it to her, he asked: " Pray, my lady, had I not better take my seat under the table?" At another dinner at the same house, Lady Holland called to her to leave a place where she was pleasantly situated for one between Allen and

herself:

singular and distressingly insane idea that she had contracted a marriage with an American; from which painful hallucination she was eventually delivered by the friendly exhortations of a learned and pious divine, the Rev. Sydney Smith." Everybody round us was in fits of laughter, as he affectionately held my hand, and thus paternally admonished me. held up my left hand with its wedding-ring, and began," Oh, but the baby!"

I

On that same evening, he was saying that he never found foreign hotels more reasonable than English, adding that he could never live abroad under fifty pounds Why, a week. "But how did you live?" as a canon should live, and they charged me as enemy's ordnance." At a musical party, he was stealing on tiptoe from the concert-room, when she held up her finger at him. My dear," he whispered, "it's all right, you keep with the dilettanti: I

go

with the talkettanti.

Afterwards, upon her expostulating with him, and telling him that by such habits he was running a risk of being called to order on some future eternal day with Angel Sydney Smith, hush!" if he did not learn to endure music better, he replied, "Oh, no, no! I'm cultivating a judicious second expressly for those oc

casions."

But though one man may take the mare to Speaking to her of Lady Morley, who the water, no given number of men can make had a disagreeable voice, Rogers said: her drink; so, having accepted my place, I de- "There is but one voice against her in all termined my complaisance should end there, England, and that is her own." She reand, in spite of all Lady Holland's conversa-peated this to Sydney Smith as singularly tional efforts, and her final exclamation, "Allen! do get Mrs. Butler to talk! We'really happy and appropriate from Rogers. must make her talk!" I held my peace, and kept the peace, which I could have done upon no other conditions; but the unnatural and unwholesome effort disagreed with me so dreadfully, that I have a return of dyspepsia whenever I think of it, which I think justifies me in my dislike of Lady Holland.

Lady Holland acted with less than her usual discernment in this instance, for she respected independence, seldom failed to see who could or could not be ordered about or bullied, and might have divined at a glance that Mrs. Kemble had a will and a temper of her own. She soon got over an incipient dislike to Sydney Smith, caused by his "free and easy wearing of the cloth," for which she professes a superstitious veneration. He was wont to treat her marriage as an hallucination, and just before her departure for America, he recommenced: :

"He never said it," exclaimed my second illustrious visitor. "But he did, Mr. Smith, to me, in this room, not half an hour ago, "He never made it; it isn't his, it isn't a bit like him." To all which I could only repeat that, nevertheless, he had said it, and that whether he made it or not, it was extremely well made. Presently Sydney Smith went away. I was living in Upper Grosvenor Street, close to Park Lane; and he in Green Street, in the near neighborhood. But I believe he must have run from my house to his own, so short was the interval of time, before I received the following note: "Dans toute l'Angleterre il n'y a qu'une voix contre moi, et c'est la mienne." Then followed the signature of a French lady of the eighteenth century, and these words: "What a dear, innocent, confiding, credulous creature you are! and how you do love Rogers!"

What a confiding credulous creature to accept Sydney Smith's French lady of the

22

She had left us to our own devices, and we

eighteenth century as a reality! She was where, on Mrs. Kemble's saying that she
probably as much a myth as the old Dutch had always preserved her liberty, "at
chronicler quoted in his first letter to least the small crumb of it that a woman
Archdeacon Singleton. Lady Morley can own anywhere," Mrs. Grote faced
would have applied her favorite maxim: about, and in a most emphatic manner
"There's nothing new, nothing true, and said: "Then you've struggled for it?"
nothing signifies."
"No, I have not been obliged to do so."
A discussion arose at Lady Grey's as to 'Ah, then, you must, or you'll lose it, de-
how much or how little truth it was rightpend upon it." The party at Burnham
or proper to speak in ordinary intercourse. Beeches (a country house of the Grotes)
Mrs. Kemble maintained that it was right consisted of Mrs. Kemble, her sister,
to speak the whole truth: another lady Dessauer (the Viennese composer) and
quoted the French adage, "Toute vérité Chorley. She did the honors and showed
n'est pas bonne à dire; " and Lady Mor- them round the grounds with a stick in
ley illustrated her own practice by an ex- her hand, a man's hat on her head, and
example: "I sat by Rogers at dinner the a coachman's drab-colored box-coat with
other day (the poet of memory was losing manifold capes over her petticoats.
his, and getting to repeat the same story
twice over without being aware that he were all in the garden. I was sitting in a
did so), and he told me a very good story, swing, and my sister, Dessauer, and Chorley
which, however, before long he began to were lying on the lawn at my feet, when pres-
repeat all over again; something, how-ently, striding towards us, appeared the ex-
ever, suggesting to him the idea that he
was doing so, he stopped suddenly, and
said, 'I've told you this before, haven't
I?'
And he had, not a quarter of an
hour before. Now, ladies, what would
you have said? and what do you think I
said? 'Oh yes,' said I, to be sure:
you were beginning to tell it to me when
the fish came round, and I'm dying to
hear the end of it!?" "This," says Mrs.
Kemble, was on all hands allowed to
have been an ingenious reply, and I said
I thought she deserved to be highly com-
plimented for such graceful dexterity in
falsehood: to which she answered, Oh,
well, my dear, it's all very fine; but if
ever you get the truth, depend upon
you won't like it.'"

66

it

"Mrs. Grote, wife of George Grote, the banker, member of Parliament and his torian of Greece, was one of the cleverest and most eccentric women in the London society of my time. No worse a judge than De Tocqueville pronounced her the cleverest woman of his acquaintance." This is introductory to a graphic sketch, which supplies part of what is wanting in former biographical notices of Mrs. Grote. Lady Eastlake's "Sketch" is a graceful and appropriate tribute to the memory of her venerated friend; whose generous nature, warm heart, fine understanding, and varied knowledge, may be collected from it, but not her strongly marked individuality and originality, nor her wonderful breadth of view, nor her sovereign contempt for conventional rules, nor her perfect independence of action and of thought. Her first meeting with Mrs. Kemble was at Sydney Smith's,

traordinary figure of Mrs. Grote, who, as soon
as she was within speaking-trumpet distance,
hailed us with a stentorian challenge about
some detail of dinner I think it was whether
the majority voted for bacon and peas or bacon
and beans. Having duly settled this momen-
tous question, as Mrs. Grote turned and
marched away, Dessauer-who had been sit-
ting straight up, listening with his head first
on one side and then on the other,, like an
eagerly intelligent terrier, taking no part in the
culinary controversy (indeed, his entire igno-
rance of English necessarily disqualified him
for even comprehending it), but staring in-
tently, with open eyes and mouth, at Mrs.
Grote-suddenly began, with his hands and
lips, to imitate the rolling of a drum, and then
guerre," etc.; whereupon the terrible lady
faced right about, like a soldier, and, planting
her stick in the ground, surveyed Dessauer
with an awful countenance.
little man grew red, and then purple, and then
black in the face with fear and shame and
exclaiming in his agony, “Ah, bonté divine! elle
m'a compris!" rolled over and over on the
lawn, as if he had a fit. Mrs. Grote majes-
disdain of her small adversary turned and de-
tically waved her hand, and with magnanimous
parted, and we remained horror-stricken at the
effect of this involuntary tribute of Dessauer's
to her martial air and deportment.

broke out aloud with, "Malbrouk s'en va-t-en

The wretched

:

When she returned, however, it was to enter into a most interesting and animated discussion upon the subject of Glück's music; and suddenly, some piece from the "Iphigenia being mentioned, she shouted for her manservant, to whom on his appearance she gave orders to bring her a chair and footstool, and "the big fiddle" (the violoncello) out of the hall; and taking it forthwith between her knees, proceeded to play, with excellent taste and expression, some of Glück's noble music upon the sonorous instrument, with which St.

Cecilia is the only female I ever saw on terms of such familiar intimacy.

Sidney Smith always spoke of Mrs. Grote as Grota, and said that he never understood the etymology or full mean ing of "grotesque," till he was acquainted

with her.

Where Mrs. Kemble excels is in her

dramatic criticisms, and in her delinea. tions of theatrical characters, actors, singers, dancers, and composers. She is The mischievous wit professed his cordial not wedded to a school: she can enjoy liking for both her and her husband, saying, the most opposite styles and hit off their "I like them, I like them; I like him, he is so distinctive merits with combined boldness ladylike; and I like her, she's such a perfect and delicacy of touch. Thus, in reference gentleman;" in which, however, he had been to what her father had been saying in de. forestalled by a person who certainly n'y en-preciation of Kean, she writes: tendait pas malice, Mrs. Chorley, the meekest and gentlest of human beings, who one evening, at a party at her son's house, said to him, pointing out Mrs. Grote, who was dressed in white, "Henry, my dear, who is the gentleman in the white muslin gown?"

Mr. Grote's manner was that of a perfect gentleman of the old school, and his conversation was no less appreciated by the most cultivated men in Europe than his wife's.

Anne, Conntess of Pembroke, wrote as follows to Sir John Williamson, secretary of state to Charles II. in answer to his

I do not know that I ever saw him in any character which impressed me as a whole work of art; he never seems to me to intend to be any one of his parts, but I think he intends that all his parts should be him. So it is not Othello who is driven frantic by doubt and jealousy, nor Shylock who is buying human flesh by its weight in gold, nor Sir Giles Overreach who is selling his child to hell for a few years of wealth and power; it is Kean, and in every one of his characters, there is an intense personality of his own that, while one is under such overpowering passion, accents of such its influence, defies all criticism moments of thrilling, piercing meaning, that the excellence tremendous power, looks and gestures of such of those parts of his performances more than atones for the want of greater unity in conception and smoothness in the entire execution of them.

Again, where she compares the successive of the opera: queens

recommendation of a member for the borough of Appleby: "I have been bullied by an usurper: I have been ill-treated by a court: but I won't be dictated to by a subject: your man shan't stand. Anne, Countess of Dorset, Pembroke, and Montgomery." This letter was quoted by Canning in a debate on Parliamentary Reform. A parallel instance of female Madame Pasta was not handsome: people spirit is given by Mrs. Kemble. On the of uneducated and unrefined taste might have eve of a contested election for Yorkshire, called her plain; but she had that indescribable Mrs. Wentworth Beaumont, then of a quality which painters value almost above all very advanced age, “drove in her travel-others-style, and a power and sweetness of ling-carriage with four horses to Downing Street, and demanding to see the prime minister, with whom she was well ac quainted, accosted him thus: 'Well, my lord, are you quite determined to make your man stand for our seat?' 'Yes, Mrs. Beaumont, I think quite determined.' 'Very well,' replied the lady; 'I am on my way down to Yorkshire, with eighty thousand pounds in my carriage for my man. Try and do better than that."

Lord Dacre, who is the authority for this story, added that on one occasion forty thousand pounds to his knowledge had been spent by government on a contested election. This was a startling draft on the secret service money, but Lord Dacre may have recollected the memorable contest for Yorkshire, then undivided, between the rival houses of Lascelles and Fitzwilliam, which cost

expression, and a grandeur and grace of demeanor that I have never seen surpassed. She was not handsome, certainly; but she was beautiful, and never, by any chance, looked common or vulgar. Madame Grisi was almost perfectly handsome; the symmetry of her head and bust, and the outline of her features, resembled the ideal models of classical art—it was the form and face of a Grecian goddess; and her rare natural gifts of musical utterance and personal loveliness won for her, very justly, the great admiration she excited, and the popularity she so long enjoyed.

5

This is followed up by a speculation on the influence of mind on countenance, as seen alike in the degradation of fine features and the elevation of mean ones:

With us coarse-featured English, and our heavy-faced Teutonic kinsfolk, a thick outline and snub features are generally supposed to be the vulgar attributes of our lower classes; but the predominance of spirit over matter vindicates itself strikingly across the Atlantic, where, in the lowest strata of society, the native American rowdy, with a face as pure in outline as an ancient Greek coin, and hands and feet as fine as those of a Norman noble, strikes one dumb with the aspect of a countenance whose vile ignoble hardness can triumph over such refinement of line and delicacy of proportion. A human soul has a wonderful supremacy over the matter which it informs. The American is a whole nation with wellmade, regular noses; from which circumstance (and a few others), I believe in their future superiority over all other nations. But the lowness their faces are capable of "flogs Europe."

During an afternoon stroll along one of the most crowded boulevards of Paris, the late Lord Lytton called his companion's attention to the rarity of well-made regular noses amongst the French, which he pronounced an unerring sign of the degeneracy of the race.

couleurs qu'il a!" After which Madame la Princesse le laissa en paix.

Speaking of Bowood, she says that it was a brilliant party, but they were all so preternaturally witty and wise that, to tell the truth, they occasionally gave her the mind-ache. "As for Macaulay, he is like nothing in the world but Bayle's' Dictionary' continued down to the present time and purified from all objectionable matter. Such a Niagara of information did surely never pour from the lips of mortal man.' Describing more in detail this visit to Bowood, she says that, although she passed the greater part of her time in her own room, she occasionally looked in upon whatever circle might be gathered in the drawing-room or library, and always found Macaulay in the same position on the hearth-rug, always talking, always answering everybody's questions about everything.

There

As one approached the room, the loud, even declamatory, sound of his voice made itself heard like the uninterrupted flow of a fountain. He stood there from morning till evening, like a knight in the lists, challenging and accepting the challenge of all comers. never was such a speech-" power," and as the volume of his voice was full and sonorous, he had immense advantages in sound as well as sense over his adversaries. Sydney Smith's humorous and good-humored rage at his pro

Mrs. Kemble assigns the first place amongst pianists to Liszt. "None of his musical contemporaries, Moscheles, Men-lific talk was very funny. Rogers's, of course, delssohn, Chopin, nor his more immediate was not good-humored; and on this very occarival, Thalberg, ever produced anything sion, one day at breakfast, having two or three like the volcanic sort of musical effects times uplifted his thread of voice and fine inwhich he did, perfect eruptions, earth-cisive speech against the torrent of Macaulay's quakes, tornadoes of sound, such as I never heard any piano utter but under his touch." His conversation was sparkling, and his power of repartee was more than once put forth with effect to parry insulting persiflage.

She (Madame de Metternich) patronized Thalberg, and affected to depreciate Liszt; but having invited them both to her house on one occasion, thought proper to address the latter with some impertinent questions about a professional visit he had just been paying to Paris, winding up with, "Enfin, avez-vous fait de bonnes affaires là-bas?" To which he replied, "Pardon, Madame la Princesse, j'ai fait un peu de musique je laisse les affaires aux banquiers et aux diplomates.' Later in the evening, the lady, probably not well pleased with this rebuff, accosted him again, as he stood talking to Thalberg, with a sneering compliment on his apparent freedom from all jealousy of his musical rival: to which Liszt, who was very sallow, replied, "Mais, Madame la Princesse, au contraire, je suis furieusement jaloux de Thalberg; regardez donc les jolies

:

holding forth, Lord Lansdowne, the most courteous of hosts, endeavored to make way for him with a "You were saying, Mr. Rogers?" when Rogers hissed out, "Oh, what I was saying will keep!"

She dates, and (we think) somewhat antedates, what has now become an institution, the afternoon tea, from a visit to Belvoir Castle in March, 1842, when she received on several occasions private and rather mysterious invitations to the Duchess of Bedford's room, and found her with a small and select circle of female guests of the castle busily employed in making and drinking tea with her Grace's own private tea-kettle. "I do not believe that now universally honored and observed institution of five o'clock tea' dates further back in the annals of English civ ilization than this very private, and, I think, rather shamefaced practice of it." It was not universally honored or observed till many years further on.

Her sister Adelaide (Mrs. Sartoris),