daughter.

Mrs. * *'s tragedy was last night damned. They may bring it on
again, and probably will; but damned it was,--not a word of the
last act audible. I went (_malgre_ that I ought to have stayed at
home in sackcloth for unc., but I could not resist the _first_
night of any thing) to a private and quiet nook of my private box,
and witnessed the whole process. The first three acts, with
transient gushes of applause, oozed patiently but heavily on. I
must say it was badly acted, particularly by * *, who was groaned
upon in the third act,--something about 'horror--such a horror' was
the cause. Well, the fourth act became as muddy and turbid as need
be; but the fifth--what Garrick used to call (like a fool) the
_concoction_ of a play--the fifth act stuck fast at the King's
prayer. You know he says, 'he never went to bed without saying
them, and did not like to omit them now.' But he was no sooner upon
his knees, than the audience got upon their legs--the damnable
pit--and roared, and groaned, and hissed, and whistled. Well, that
was choked a little; but the ruffian-scene--the penitent
peasantry--and killing the Bishop and Princes--oh, it was all over.
The curtain fell upon unheard actors, and the announcement
attempted by Kean for Monday was equally ineffectual. Mrs. Bartley
was so frightened, that, though the people were tolerably quiet,
the epilogue was quite inaudible to half the house. In short,--you
know all. I clapped till my hands were skinless, and so did Sir
James Mackintosh, who was with me in the box. All the world were in
the house, from the Jerseys, Greys, &c. &c. downwards. But it would
not do. It is, after all, not an _acting_ play; good language, but
no power. * * * Women (saving Joanna Baillie) cannot write tragedy:
they have not seen enough nor felt enough of life for it. I think
Semiramis or Catherine II. might have written (could they have been
unqueened) a rare play.

"It is, however, a good warning not to risk or write tragedies. I
never had much bent that way; but if I had, this would have cured
me.

"Ever, carissime Thom.,

"Thine, B."

* * * * *

LETTER 221. TO MR. MURRAY.

"May 21. 1815.

"You must have thought it very odd, not to say ungrateful, that I
made no men