"I'll go to him myself, and tell my wretchedness.
Oh! if his kindling eye with generous ire

Repel the charge; if his blest voice deny it,

Though one raised from the dead swore to its truth,
I'll not believe it!"

27

The subsequent scene, in which she tells Garcia they must part-by far the most difficult passage in the whole play—was an admirable performance, and wonderfully sustained, when it is considered how young Miss Faucit is, both as an actress and in years. At the close of the piece Miss Faucit was received with continued cheers, and must have been highly gratified with so unqualified and flattering a testimony.

...

Here is her own modest record of the triumph of the evening :

"Thank goodness, this night is over! The play has gone off very well indeed. Mr Kemble took me forward so kindly at the end; indeed, he has all along been most kind to me-so considerate in pointing out my faults, and taking such pains in explaining how I could mend them. I am sure I shall never forget his goodness to me. I cannot tell how I have acted to-night, for I felt so ill the whole evening that all my anxiety was to keep sufficiently well to enable me to get through, but I shall be sure to hear all about it to-morrow. The chamber scene in the third act is most trying."

Of one notable incident of the performance the Diarist makes no mention, but it finds a place in her later recollections ("Letter on Juliet "). nervous and anxious

She was, she there writes, herself very on attempting the leading character in a play never before acted, and one, moreover, with which I had little sympathy. During the first performance Mr Kemble also appeared very nervous, and at times seemed at a loss for his words. He was deaf, too-not very deaf, but sufficiently so to make the prompter's voice of no use to him. Happily I was able on several occasions, being close to him, to whisper the words. How I knew them I can hardly tell, because we had not copies of the play to study from, but only our own manuscript parts. But I had heard him repeat them at rehearsal, and so they had fixed themselves in my memory. Naturally, I thought nothing of this at the time. The next morning, when we met upon the stage to make some little changes in the play, Mr Kemble spoke openly of the help I had been to him, making very much more

28

KIND ANONYMOUS LETTER.

[1836.

of it than it deserved, and above all, marvelling at the self-command of the young novice, coming with so much readiness to support an old actor, who should have been on the look-out to do that office for her. I was much ashamed to be praised for so small a thing. But how quietly glad was the little mouse when she found that she had helped, ever so slightly, her good friend the noble lion!"

Little as she thought of the incident at the time, it is interesting to those who knew her in later life as an indication of the self-command, the readiness of resource, the thoughtfulness for others in any emergency, great or small, for which she was remarkable.

Got

Separation was repeated two days afterwards, and she records :"Saturday, Feb. 27th.-Much better to-day, all but a nasty ear-ache, that teases me dreadfully. Acted in Separation again this evening, felt much stronger, so I suppose got through better. Mr Kemble took me on again at the end of the play. The papers, I hear, are more indulgent to me than I expected. a letter to-day, and certainly by the handwriting and style from a lady, although a tiresome anonymous one, such a kind nice letter, so full of the best wishes for my prosperity and happiness. How I wish I knew the lady's name, that I might write and tell her how grateful I feel for her good wishes! It is so provoking not to know to whom you are indebted for kindness."

Of the countless letters of congratulation which Miss Faucit received during the early part of her career, she preserved scarcely any. But on this letter she set such great store that it is found folded into her Journal. Who the writer was she never learned.

Will you deem it presumptuous, it says, in one of the most fervent and enthusiastic admirers of your talents to dare to address one line to you? Believe that the admiration I feel is far too respectful to permit me to write anything that could in the remotest way annoy or offend you. Let it then suffice to say that from the night of your first appearance (that most triumphant night for you) I have carefully watched your talented and most interesting performances. Your intense feeling in "Julia," your bright flashes of genius in Belvidera, and, to crown all, your brilliant and most successful personation of the heroine of to-night (which, let me add, no woman now on the stage but yourself could have rendered so interesting)—

1836.]

HER SISTER HARRIET.

29

each and all of these are sufficient, amply sufficient, to show the public what you can do; and that public can, I think, estimate your worth. I hope they will prove themselves worthy of you! Go on and prosper, noble, intellectual, and most interesting Helen! And if young, very young as you are, you are capable of producing the effects you now do, what may not be hoped and expected of you hereafter?

Let any one have the patience to read the play of Separation and he must come to the same conclusion as the writer of this letter, that the genius was indeed great which could infuse into it dramatic life and interest. One marvels how the young actress, with such sorry materials to work upon, could charm and thrill her audience in the part of Margaret, as she obviously did.

To her delight her sister, her "darling Harry," arrived at home the day after the production of Separation, "looking so well," and she goes to the repetition of Lady Margaret in high spirits, sure at least in her of a sympathy which never failed. But at the theatre she found, to her great disappointment, that owing to the death of a relative Mr Kemble could not act. "I am very sorry for his loss," she writes, "and selfishly sorry on my own account, for it will so spoil the play his being out of it." What a trial to have to play with his substitute without even a rehearsal ! She was suffering, too, from the pain of an ulcerated throat. "I was so grieved that I acted so ill to-night, for it is the first time of my Harry's seeing me; but I need not fear her censure. She is most conveniently blind where the affections are concerned. I never remember her saying that I did anything ill. She is like Virginius and his daughter: Few things do I as I ought, yet everything is well done with my father.' My own dear sister, God bless her for her love for me! I feel as if I wanted nothing now she is with me, she is so kind, so thoughtful, and above all so indulgent to me."

I

For the next two days she is suffering "dreadful pain" with her throat. "My doctor says it all proceeds from weakness. wish to goodness he could make me strong then, but I fear even he is not clever enough for that." That night Separation was repeated. "Felt a little better-acted middling. Very much surprised this morning to find myself announced for Juliet next Monday. Surely it will be almost impossible to do it on so short a notice."

30

POPULARITY IN SEPARATION.

[1836.

In a letter from her sister to a friend at this time, the following interesting passage occurs :—

She [Helen] looks so beautiful and acts so beautifully, so simply, so feelingly, and so powerfully. Could you read one-half the letters my bird has received from our first literary people, you would think it enough to turn her brain. But she has such fine sense. I wish she possessed as much strength of body as of mind, but she is very delicate. She has been very ill since this new part. How I wish you could see her in it! I have not seen the new play from the front. I went with my sweet bird the first night I was in town, and would go with her every night, but I am not strong enough. It is dreadfully cold, too. My darling suffers from this,—— the fatigue is so great,—and though we wrap her up when she leaves the stage, yet it is impossible to help a chill. [She then alludes to her being surrounded by admirers.] But she thinks of nothing but her art, and appears unconscious of all the admiration she excites.

To excel in her art, to clothe with life the forms which filled her young imagination, was an absorbing passion, with which no personal feeling was allowed to interfere. The truth of her sister's remark has been confirmed to me by those who knew her best at this period of her life. By this time her popularity, although she would not admit this to herself, was assured. A little incident illustrative of this is recorded in a note to her "Letter on Juliet":

I shall never forget my surprise when, on going into the Soho Bazaar one day, during the run of Separation, and coming to the doll-stall-a not-forgotten spot of interest for me--I saw a doll, labelled "Miss Helen Faucit as the Lady Margaret in Separation." Such things were very unusual then, and I felt just a little not proud, but happy. The doll's dress was exactly mine-copied most accurately. I am sure, had I not thought it would look like vanity, I should have liked to buy my doll-self. Moreover, my funds at that time might not have permitted such extravagance, and I felt too shy to ask the price. It was a grandly got-up lady; and although my salary was the largest ever given in those days, I was, as a minor, only allowed by my friends a slight increase to the pocket-money which had been mine before my début. Happily for me, both then and since, money has ever been a matter of slight importance in my regard. Success in my art, and the preservation of the freshness and freedom of spirit which are essential to true distinction in it, were always my first thought.

Although Separation continued to be well received, these were not the days of long runs. A general desire, too, had arisen to

1836.]

ROMEO AND JULIET.

31

see Miss Faucit in the character for which she had originally been announced. The difficulty which prevented its being produced for her début-the want of a youthful Romeo-still existed; but the young actress had already established so strong a hold upon the public that she might be trusted to carry the play through successfully by her own attraction. Mr George Bennett was still found to be the only Romeo available for the occasion. "He was," she writes, "an excellent actor in his way, but very vehement,-so much so that, when he played Romeo, my sister would never trust me in the tomb alone. He shook it so violently with the crowbar, that she used to declare, if she had not been there to play the part of a caryatid, and help to hold it up, the frail fabric would have dropped to pieces on my head. Oh! if I had not had a very different Romeo in my imagination, it would have been hard indeed to make one out of such an unromantic spluttering lover!" Not then alone must she have had to make a similar call upon her imagination for her Romeos.

On the 10th of March Romeo and Juliet was produced. Every hour that could be spared from the performances of Lady Margaret and Belvidera was devoted by Miss Faucit to a re-study of Juliet. Since she had played Juliet at Richmond, her mind had greatly expanded, she had made an elaborate study of the whole play, and gained a deeper insight into the nature of "the child-woman, raised by love to heroism of the highest type." "But even then," to use her own words, "how little could I know! Although the torch had been put into my hand, I could only see what my small experience showed me. The wonderful proportion, the harmony, the loveliness and the pathos, grew upon me only with my mental growth, and could not be grasped in unripe years. Besides, I needed above all things the practice in my art, which to the artist is the greatest help towards developing the poet's meaning, and throws lights upon it that no study, however close, can give. In certain moods of mind the poet's intention may be read in this way as plainly as in an open book. The inspiration of the scene makes clear what before had not been even dreamed of, but which, once shown, is never to be forgotten or neglected."

However little satisfactory to herself her performance of Juliet