1784, it was acted before an audience whom the long-continued contest had brought in unprecedented numbers to hear it.  If it had not been for the opposition which had been made to it, it probably would never have attracted any particular attention; for, though it was lively, and what managers call a fair “acting play,” it had no remarkable merit as a composition, and depended for its attraction more on some of its surprises and discoveries than on its wit.  But its performance and the reception it met with were regarded by a large political party as a triumph over the Ministry; and French historical writers, to whatever party they belong, agree in declaring that it had given a death-blow to many of the oldest institutions of the country, and that Beaumarchais proved at once the herald and the pioneer of the approaching Revolution. (See the Editor’s “Life of Marie Antoinette,” c. 19.)]

GENTLEMEN WRITERS—­HIS OWN REASONS FOR WRITING WHEN YOUNG—­VOLTAIRE—­“EVELINA”—­MISS SEWARD—­HAYLEY.

TO MISS HANNAH MORE.

Strawberry Hill, July 12, 1788.

Won’t you repent having opened the correspondence, my dear Madam, when you find my letters come so thick upon you?  In this instance, however, I am only to blame in part, for being too ready to take advice, for the sole reason for which advice ever is taken,—­because it fell in with my inclination.

You said in your last that you feared you took up time of mine to the prejudice of the public; implying, I imagine, that I might employ it in composing.  Waving both your compliment and my own vanity, I will speak very seriously to you on that subject, and with exact truth.  My simple writings have had better fortune than they had any reason to expect; and I fairly believe, in a great degree, because gentlemen-writers, who do not write for interest, are treated with some civility if they do not write absolute nonsense.  I think so, because I have not unfrequently known much better works than mine much more neglected, if the name, fortune, and situation of the authors were below mine.  I wrote early from youth, spirits, and vanity; and from both the last when the first no longer existed.  I now shudder when I reflect on my own boldness; and with mortification, when I compare my own writings with those of any great authors.  This is so true, that I question whether it would be possible for me to summon up courage to publish anything I have written, if I could recall time past, and should yet think as I think at present.  So much for what is over and out of my power.  As to writing now, I have totally forsworn the profession, for two solid reasons.  One I have already told you; and it is, that I know my own writings are trifling and of no depth.  The other is, that, light and futile as they were, I am sensible they are better than I could compose now.  I am aware of the decay of the middling parts I had, and others may be still more sensible of it.  How do I know but I am superannuated?