THE FOX-UNDER-THE-HILL.
The strong bond of friendship which existed between Hannah More and Mr and Mrs Garrick is one of the most remarkable events in the history of literature and the stage. On the one side, there was unbounded admiration for the great actor; on the other, Garrick and his wife evidently held the young writer in the highest esteem. The letters written, and received by, Hannah More, from the time of her first meeting with Garrick, until the death of his widow, form a charming note in the lives of these three people. They bridge over the years 1776 to 1822. In the former year, it should be borne in mind, the actor was nearly sixty years old, his wife a little younger, while Hannah More was but thirty-one years of age. The affection of the elderly couple for their young protégée is remarkable, and, curiously enough, the career of the latter began with Garrick's leaving the stage. On June 10, 1776, Hannah More writes to David Garrick: "I think, by the time this reaches you, I may congratulate you on the end of your labours and the completion of your fame—a fame which has had no parallel, and will have no end. Yet whatever reputation the world may ascribe to you, I, who have had the happy privilege of knowing you intimately, shall always think you derived your greatest glory from the temperance with which you enjoyed it and the true greatness of mind with which you lay it down. Surely, to have suppressed your talents in the moment of your highest capacity for exercising them, does as much honour to your heart as the exertion itself did to your dramatic character; but I cannot trust myself with this subject, because I am writing to the man himself; yet I ought to be indulged, for is not the recollection of my pleasures all that is left me of them? Have I not seen in one season that man act seven-and-twenty times, and rise each time in excellence, and shall I be silent? Have I not spent three months under the roof of that man and his dear charming lady, and received from them favours that would take me another three months to tell over, and shall I be silent?
"But highly as I enjoy your glory (for I do enjoy it most heartily, and seem to partake it too, as I think a ray of it falls on all your friends), yet I tremble for your health. It is impossible you can do so much mischief to the nerves of other people without hurting your own,—in Richard especially, where your murders are by no means confined to the Tower: but you assassinate your whole audience who have hearts. I say, I tremble lest you should suffer for all this; but it is now over, as I hope are the bad effects of it upon yourself. You may break your wand at the end of your trial, when you lay down the office of haut intendant of the passions; but the enchantment it raised you can never break, while the memories and feelings remain of those who were ever admitted into the magic circle.
"This letter is already of a good impudent length, and to the person, of all others, who has the least time to read nonsense. I will not prolong my impertinence, but to beg and conjure that I may hear a little bit about your finishing night. The least scrap—printed or manuscript—paragraph or advertisement—merry or serious—verse or prose, will be thankfully received, and hung up in the temple of reliques.
"Pray tell my sweet Mrs Garrick I live on the hope of hearing from her. And tell her further that she and you have performed a miracle, for you have loaded one person with obligations, and have not made an ingrate."
A few months later Hannah More beseeches Garrick to write her a prologue to Percy. Garrick received her letter just as he was about to leave the Adelphi for a trip on the river. But he replied immediately, in the following characteristic way: "Write you an epilogue! Give you a pinch of snuff! By the greatest good luck in the world, I received your letter when I was surrounded with ladies and gentlemen, setting out upon a party to go up the Thames. Our expedition will take us seven or eight days upon the most limited calculations. They would hardly allow me a moment to write this scrawl: I snatched up the first piece of paper (and a bad one it is) to tell you how unhappy I am that I cannot confer upon you so small a favour directly. If you will let me know immediately, by a line directed to me at the Adelphi, for whom you intend the epilogue, and what are her or his strong marks of character in the play (for my copy is in town, or with Miss Young), I will do my best on my return. I must desire you not to rely upon me this time, on account of my present situation; I could as soon sleep in a whirlwind as write among these ladies, and I shall be so fatigued with talking myself, and hearing them talk, or I could sit up all night to obey your commands."
Garrick complied with the request, and Hannah More writes, on June 16, 1777, to thank him: "I beg to return you my hearty thanks for your goodness in sending me your delightful prologue. That you should think me not unworthy to possess so great a treasure flatters more than my vanity. And that you should send it me so soon makes it doubly gratifying. I have read and re-read it with all the malice of a friend, and pronounce that I never read a sweeter or more beautiful thing.... Many thanks, dear sir, for your good and wholesome advice about my play. I do nothing, except regret my own idleness. I tremble for my fifth act; but I am afraid I shall never make others tremble at it. My love and duty to my sweet Mrs Garrick, and my thankful compliments to the young lady to whose transcription I am so much obliged; she is astonishingly correct, not the smallest error."