The kind interest which you are so good as to take in me, my dear & true friend, is a great consolation and solace--your letter of today was especially delightful to me--& a conversation with you would be more gratifying still--but I am not going to Town--not likely to be there for many months--I have suffered so much in my journeys--or rather my visits there this spring as almost to wish that I may never be called thither again. Unless by a narration of some hours I could hardly make you comprehend that Charles Kemble though so violently the enemy of Mr. Macready (& of from that enmity) is yet on the whole not intentionally mine--He even wishes very well to the Authoress of his darling play --In short it is a complete war of the two parties-- the two plays have been taken up each from motives of selfishness & vanity, & I am the sacrifice. That Macready likes me I know--so does his sister-- but I have perhaps suffered even more from their injustice & prejudice & jealousy than from the coarser attacks of the Kembles. In short it is my devoutest wish to be able to do without them & I would labour night & day at any vocation that should free me from the Theatre--from being alternately the idol & the slave of that most fascinating & accom plished but most tormenting of men William Macready--who had power over me because I have a real regard for his splendid qualities & a sincere gratitude for his unbounded zeal, but whose temper makes that power a perpetual source of misery to himself & to me. Do not misunderstand me--our connexion connection is merely that of Actor & Author--but this literacy jealousy, his suspicion, & mistrust, have really the character of passion. And yet he is a most ardent & devoted friend & it seems ungrateful in me to say so much even to you--with whom of course it will remain sacred. Do not show this letter to any one anyone . I have still in Covent Garden Theatre, & if Mr. Young be engaged there next year it will be brought out--but if Charles Kemble calls on Macready to play The Doge I have pledged myself to M. Here, Mitford is likely referring to Macready as "M." and she has promised him to withdraw the play if Charles Kemble insists that he (Macready) play the old Doge instead of Foscari. The two actors had been at odds for some time over which would play the role of Foscari. The feud is mentioned in Mitford's letter to Talfourd on November 20, 1822. It is later noted in Mitford's journal on February 11, 1823 that she had heard from Talfourd that Macready would indeed refuse to play the Doge.to withdraw it--that is if I can, for Charles Kemble is indignant at my thinking of such a thing.--I intend if Macready remains in Covent Garden (remember that this is most strictly confidential) to write a tragedy on a very grand historical subject (Rienzi. vide Gibbon Vol 11 or 12.) & send it to him to bring out without a name--this will avoid the attacking & those which have been launched against me merely as a woman--But this is a profound secret. I do this because all the higher Critics say that though murdered in the acting is full of dramatic power of vigour & vividness & rapidity--& if I can display these qualities in a great historical play & it be only fairly performed it cannot fail. I think this well worthy of another trial--besides there is Elliston wanting my plays--At the same time I go to the work as a victim to the Altar, so much do I dread the scenes which I know first or last I must encounter--but it is my duty & that settles all. You have yourself no notion how unfit I am for the terrible struggles amongst which I have been placed--Macready says that my character is a complete counteraction to my genius--& perhaps he is right--I literally cannot scold & squabble & bargain & hold out & threaten as he would have m e --I can neither resist kindness--nor bear up under hard usage--& this feebleness--this want of moral courage will not do for a Theatre. But I must try once again--It is my duty--There is no other way in which I have fair prospect of making so much money.--Mr. Davison This is possibly Thomas Davison, ultra-radical Regency London printer, publisher, and journalist. Mitford mentions him in her letter to Talfourd on April 24, 1823 regarding a possible strike until they received payment for their published works in the Lady's Magazine. has taken to the & promises if not "indemnity for the past security for the future." I told you I believe that the late Editor had run away upwards of forty pounds in my debt--after having, chiefly by my Articles, encreased increased the sale of the Magazine from 250 to 2,000.This is probably referring to the number of subscribers or copies sold. However I hope Mr. Davison will go on--for he is sure pay & that sort of drudgery is Heaven when compared to Covent Garden.--In the mean time there is one thing which to so old & kind a friend I venture to mention--My Father has at last resolved, partly I believe instigated by the effect which the terrible feeling of responsibility, & want of power has had on my health & spirits, to try if he can himself to obtain any employment which may lighten the burthen. He is, as you know, Active healthy & intelligent, & with a strong sense of duty & of right--I am sure that he would fulfill to the utmost any change that might be confided to him--& if it were one in which my mother or I could assist you may be assured that he would have zealous & faithful coadjutor. For the Management of estates or any country affairs he is particularly well qualified--or any work of superintendance superintendence which requires integrity & attention--If you should hear of any such either in Devonshire or elsewhere would you mention him? or at least let me know? The addition of 2 or even one hundred a year to our little income joined to what I am in a manner sure of gaining by mere industry would take a load from my heart of which I can scarcely give you an idea--It would be everything to me, for it would give me what for many months I have not had the full command of my own powers--Even was written under a pressure of anxiety which left me not a moments rest.--I am however at present quite recovered from the physical effects of this tormenting affair--& have regained my flesh & colour--& almost my power of writing prose articles--& if I could but recover my old hopefulness & elasticity should be again such as I used to be in happier days--If I could but see my dear Father set tle d in my employment I know I should.--