If genius were always associated with physical force and constitutional vigour, we should have had the dignities of the world more appropriately filled than they are, and many who lord it would be found with their necks bent in humiliation.
How many then should cover that stand bare!
How many be commanded that command!
Where mental and constitutional force are combined, and extraordinary talents are sustained by resolution, confidence, vigorous animal spirits, and the perseverance and indefatigable industry, supplied by corporal strength, the obstructions must be numerous and great that can prevent the possessor from rising. In Hodgkinson those requisites were united in an eminent degree. No adversity could crush his energies, no prosperity impair his industry. It was but a few months before his death that old Mr. Whitlock under whose management Hodgkinson had early in life played in the north of England, said to this writer, "John had as much work in him as any two players I ever knew—he's the same in that respect now, and will be the same to the end of the chapter."
Something of this the reader may have already perceived in the specimens afforded by H's boyish adventures. His forcing his way to the notice of one of the most respectable managers in England, and obtaining a footing upon the stage, when not fifteen years of age, would appear incredible if it were not so much a matter of notoriety as to be subject to demonstrative proof. Intimately as the writer thought himself acquainted with the minutest circumstances of H's first adventures at Bristol, he finds that there was one which either he had forgotten, or H. had neglected to mention to him. Though it be of no very great moment, yet as it serves to thicken the circumstances which elucidate the boy's character, it is introduced in this place. Since the publication of the last number of The Mirror, the editor received the following letter directed to "the biographer of Mr. Hodgkinson."
"Sir,
"Considering the circumstantial minuteness with which you have related the youthful adventures of Mr. H. I am surprised at your not mentioning one which I know to be a fact. On the first night's performance of the company after his arrival at Bristol, his passionate love of the stage made him imprudent enough to throw away two shillings for a seat in the gallery, which left him with only ninepence in his pocket. Wishing your work success,
"I am yours obediently,
"An old friend of John Hodgkinson."
Upon mentioning this to another most intimate friend of the deceased in this city, he said that he was sure the fact was so, as H. had more than once mentioned it to him in the chitchat of their convivial hours.
Of his theatrical employment while a boy at Bristol, he was not in the habit of mentioning particulars. Either there was nothing interesting in it as a story, or it was so low that he felt no pleasure in dwelling upon it. He helped to make up the crowd in a spectacle and occasionally delivered letters and short messages on the stage: but his most important and useful occupation was singing in choruses. In the dirge in Romeo and Juliet he had a part allotted him, and never could forget the mortification he felt when a person of consequence inquired of the manager which of the ladies it was that so far exceeded all the rest in the power and sweetness of her voice. The praises bestowed on his voice were poison to his ambitious young heart, when coupled with an impeachment of his manhood.