Paris, Jan., 1806.
I have been asked yesterday and to-day to the F.’s, but sent an excuse each day. All I regret there now is Col. ——, for he is so like a character in an English farce, from his broad comic look, provincial accent, strange phraseology, undisguised vanity, and perpetual surprise and joy at finding himself a rich man, that though he provokes me at the moment, I laugh ten times a day by myself afterwards in recollecting him. I am sure if the playwriters and actors could lay hold of him, they would turn him to good account. He not only diverts me, but I feel a besoin of somebody to mimic him.
By the bye, Mr. F. and Col. —— are strong instances of what you have often said, that the Irish can sooner conquer the want of refinement in early life than those of other nations. Both entered late into the world, and both obtained an unexpected rise in circumstances. The one improves every day; the other has his vulgarity burnt in. The one may not please, but never offends; the other shocks some one or other in company every time he speaks.
It was very ill-natured of me not to seize the idea of our taking the little Yarico, and I shall be unhappy and feel remorse if you do not do it. If you find upon reniflé-ing that she is sweet (for some of them are insupportable), I will educate her for a little nursery-maid; if not, we will make of her something which comes less close. Pray let us not neglect this good action which Providence throws in our way.
TO THE SAME.
Paris, Jan., 1806.
In the evening we saw Mˡˡᵉ George in Phèdre. I have learned how liable one is to error in judging of merit except by comparison. Till I felt the ennui of seeing her in that part, and the damp it threw on the play in general, I did not perceive the full excellence of Duchesnois, who vivifies the whole piece. I am told I must not judge of her in that rôle, as it is of all she plays the least favourable to her looks, which are her only merit. The abandon, so necessary in the attitudes of Phèdre, betrays her want of mollesse and softness in her motions, and particularly displays those strangely-formed feet, of which the shape and movements are so uncommonly ugly; while her anxiety to hide their defects often gives her a constraint in the moments which ought to be the most devoted to passion. The chief merit of her expression, dignity, is lost in a character always given up to strong emotions; and its chief fault, harshness, is absolutely contrary to all one’s ideas of a creature
‘dissolved away
In dreams all night, in sighs and tears all day.’