changed to Foley Place. I remember his saying in a letter that he had gone to bed in one street, and rose in the morning in another. The house seemed to my young ideas what that of a literary man should be; handsomely, not showily furnished; a good library; and excellent pictures, chiefly I think, portraits. Everything seemed in order. He gave dinners frequently, and all said they were remarkably pleasant.
By others of riper years he was often adduced as representative of the race of English gentlemen of the old school, and became a favourite into whatever society he was thrown. Boaden, who knew him well, adverts to some of his characteristics in the Life of Kemble.
I had the melancholy task of announcing to him the death of our excellent friend, Mr. Malone. I am unable to name in the large circle of Mr. Kemble’s acquaintance, any gentleman for whom he had a more perfect esteem. He frequently alluded in conversation to the elegance of his manners; and delighted to quote him as one of the best illustrations of the old school. As a commentator on Shakspeare, Mr. Kemble greatly preferred Mr. Malone, because he saw in him unwearied diligence and most scrupulous accuracy; with an utter rejection of that self-display which had discredited, on too many occasions, the wit, learning, and labour of some of his rivals.
Some early defect of vision, increased by constant occupation on books and manuscripts, tended to keep him away from the theatre more than might be supposed. He saw no advantage in the increased size of theatres. “Whenever, after the play, he walked round to Mr. Kemble’s dressing-room where I have joined him, his usual complaint was, ‘I dare say it was a very perfect performance, but you have made your houses so large that really I can neither hear nor
