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DIARY, REMINISCENCES, AND
CORRESPONDENCE

HENRY CRABB ROBINSON.

WOODFALL AND KINDER, PRINTERS,
MII.rORD LANE, SIRAND. W.C.

DIARY, REMINISCENCES, AND
CORRESPONDENCE

HENRY CRABB ROBINSON

BARRISTER-AT-LAW, F.S.A.

SELECTED AND EDITED

BY (

THOMAS SADLER, Ph.D.

IN THREE VOLUMES— VOL. II.

SECOND EDITION.

l,on&on :
MACMILLAN AND CO.

1869.

' A being made of many beings."

The Excursion, Book I.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

PAGE

CHAPTER I. 1816.

Flaxman — Lamb — The Clarksons at Playford — Wordsworth — Southey —

De Quincey — Coleridge i

CHAPTER H. 1817.

On Circuit— Treason Trials — Coleridge and Tieck— Journey to Paris-
Hone's Trials 44

CHAPTER ni. iSrS.

Lectures by Hazlitt and Coleridge— Visit to Germany — The Court at

Weimar — Knebel — On Circuit 84

CHAPTER IV. 1819.

Clarkson — J. P. Collier and Mr. Walter — On Circuit — Benecke— New

Chambers 118

CHAPTER V. 1820.
On Elton Hamond 141

CHAPTER VL 1820.
Flaxman— Lamb — Swiss Tour with the Wordsworths .... 158

CHAPTER Vn. 1821.
Mrs. Barbauld — Flaxman — Tour to Scotland 201

CHAPTER VIII. 1822.

Wordsworth's Memorial Poems— Visit to Paris— Charles and Mary Lamb

in Paris 221

CHAPTER IX. 1823.

Southey — Wordsworth, Coleridge, Moore, Lamb, and Rogers — Abemethy

— Acquaintance with Irving — Schlegel — Flaxman .... 240

vi Contents.

CHAPTER X. 1824.

Sir John Franklin — Lamb — Coleridge and Irving — Athenaeum Club

opened — Lady Morgan — Tour in Normandy— Visit to the Trappists 265

CHAPTER XI. 1825.
Julius Hare — Sir James Stephen — Blake's Conversations .... 290

CHAPTER XII. 1826.

Blake — Lamb — Irving— Coleridge — Tour in Ireland — Journey with
O'Connell — Visit to Derrynane — Wordsworth — Visit to Dawson
Turner — Macaulay — Death of Flaxman 314

CHAPTER XIII. 1827.
Death of Blake— Lamb at Enfield 378

CHAPTER XIV. 1828.

Goethe — Opening of the London University — Repeal of Test and Corpo-
ration Acts— Bishop Stanley— H. C. R. quits the Bar . . . 387

CHAPTER XV. 1829.

Antiquarian Society — Linnaean Society — Lamb's Hoax and Confession —

With Lamb at Enfield — Mrs. Clarkson — Wordsworth — Croker . 400

CHAPTER XVI. 1829.
Tour in Germany — Visits to Benecke, Knebel, Goethe, Tieck, &c. . . 420

CHAPTER XVII. 1829-31.
In Italy — ^Winter in Rome — Tour in Sicily — Stay in Florence . . . 450

CHAPTER XVIII. 1831.

In England again— The Reform Bill— Visits to Lamb and the Clarksons

—Jeremy Bentham 514

DIARY, REMINISCENCES, AND
CORRESPONDENCE

HENRY CRABB ROBINSON,

CHAPTER I.
1816.

January ^th. — (At Norwich.) This morning I went
immediately after breakfast to a Jew dentist, C-: — ,
who put in a natural tooth in the place of one I
swallowed yesterday. He assured me it came from
Waterloo, and promised me it should outlast twelve
artificial teeth.

January iytk.—{At Bury.) I called with sister on
Mrs. Clarkson, to take leave of her. The Clarksons
leave Bury to-day, and are about to settle on a farm
(Playford) near Ipswich. No one deserves of the
present race more than Clarkson to have what
Socrates proudly claimed of his judges — a lodging
in the Prytaneion at the public expense. This
ought to exclude painful anxiety on his account, if
the farm should not succeed. They were in good
spirits.

VOL. II. B

Chap. i.
1816.

A dentist.

Mr. Clark-
son leaves
Bury /or
Playford.

Mrs. Barhauld.

Chap. i.
1816.

A legal
subtlety.

Mrs.
Barbauld,

February 6th. — I attended the Common Pleas this
morning, expecting that a demurrer on which we had
a consultation last night would come on, but it did
not. I heard, however, an argument worthy of the
golden age of the English law, scil., the age of the civil
wars between the Houses of York and Lancaster, when
the subtleties and refinements of the law were in high
flourishing condition, — or the silver age, that of the
Stuarts. An almshouse corporation, the warden and
poor of Croydon, in Surrey, on the foundation of Arch-
bishop Whitgift, brought an action for rent against their
tenant. He pleaded that, for a good and valuable
consideration, they had sold him the land, as authorized
by the statute, for redeeming land-tax. They replied
that, in their conveyance, in setting out their title, they
had omitted the words, " of the foundation of Arch-
bishop Whitgift," and therefore they contended the
deed was void, and that they might still recover their
rent, as before. Good sense and honesty prevailed over
technical sense.

February nth. — I walked to Newington, and dined
with Mrs. Barbauld and Miss Finch. Miss Hamond
and Charles Aikin were there. As usual, we were very
comfortable, Mrs. Barbauld can keep up a lively
argumentative conversation as. well as any one I know ;
and at her advanced age (she is turned of seventy), she
is certainly the best specimen of female Presbyterian
society in the country. N.B. — Anthony Robinson
requested me to inquire whether she thought the
doctrine of Universal Restoration scriptural. She said
she thought we must bring to the interpretation of the

Primogeniture Scriptural.

Scriptures a very liberal notion of the beneficence of
the Deity to find the doctrine there.

February 12th. — I dined with the Colliers, and in the
evening went to Drury Lane with Jane Collier and Miss
Lamb, to see " A New Way to Pay Old Debts," a very
spirited comedy by Massinger. Kean's Sir Giles Over-
reach is a very fine piece of acting indeed. His rage
at the discovery of the fraud in the marriage of his
daughter is wrought up to a wonderful height, and
becomes almost too tragical. On the contrary, Munden,
who also plays admirably the part of a knavish con-
fidant, is infinitely comical, and in one or two instances
he played too well, for he disturbed the impression
which Kean was to raise by the equally strong effect
of his own acting. Oxberry played Greedy, the hungry
magistrate, pleasantly, and Harley was thought to per-
form Wellborn well ; but he displeases me in this, that
he seems to have no keeping. Sometimes he reminds
one of Banister, sometimes Lewis ; so that at last he
is neither a character nor himself Mrs. Glover was
agreeable in playing Lady Allworth.

February i$t/i. — A curious argument on the law of
Primogeniture. It was used by my friend Pattisson,
and is a scriptural one. In the parable of the Prodigal
Son, the Father says to his dissatisfied elder Son, " Son,
all that I have is thine," which is a recognition of the
right in the firstborn.

February 2^t/i. — ^At eight I went to Rough's, where
I met Kean — I should say to see him, not to hear him ;
for he scarcely spoke. I should hardly have known
him. He has certainly a fine eye, but his features were

B 2

Chap. i.
1816.

Keans Sir

Giles
Overreach.

Primogeni-
ture.

Kean in
society.

Kean. — Coleridge his ozvn Publisher.

Chap. i.
1816.

Law as an
instrument

of
oppression.

Coleridge.

His own
publisher.

relaxed, as if he had undergone great fatigue. When
he smiles, his look is rather constrained than natural;
He is but a small man, and from the gentleness of his
manners, no one would anticipate the actor who excels
in bursts of passion.

March ioth.—{Or\ Circuit at Bedford.) I was a little,
scandalized by the observation of the clerk of a pro-
secutor's solicitor, in a case in which I was engaged for.
the prosecution, that there was little evidence against
one of the defendants,^that, in fact, he had not been,
very active in the riots, — but he was a sarcastic fellow,
and they wished to punish him by putting him to the
expense of a defence without any expectation of con-
victing him !

April 6th. — I rode to London by the old Cambridge
coach, from ten to four.

Soon after I arrived I met Miss Lamb by accident, and
in consequence took tea with her and Charles. I found
Coleridge and Morgan at their house. Coleridge had
been ill, but he was then, as before, loquacious, and in
his loquacity mystically eloquent. He is endeavouring
to bring a tragedy on the stage, in which he is not
likely, I fear, to succeed ; and he is printing two
volumes of Miscellanies, including a republication of
his poems. But he is printing without a publisher!.
He read me some metaphysical passages, which will be
laughed at by nine out of ten readers ; but I am told
he has written popularly, and about himself. Morgan
:is looking very pale — rather unhappy than ill. He'
attends Coleridge with his unexampled assiduity and
kindness.

Personal Talk.

April 2\st. — After dining I rode to Wattisfield by the
day-coach, I reached my Uncle Crabb's by tea-time,
and had an agreeable evening with him and Mrs. Crabb.
I was pleased to revive some impressions which years
have rendered interesting.

April 22nd. — This was an indolent day, but far from
an unpleasant one. I sat with Mr. and Mrs. Crabb a
great part of the morning, and afterwards walked with
Mr. Crabb, who was on horseback, through the street
to Hill Green Farm. On the road family anecdotes
and village narratives, suggested by the objects in view,
rendered the walk agreeable to us both. Mr. Crabb is
arrived at an age when it is a prime pleasure to relate the
history of his early years ; and I am always an interested
listener on such occasions. I am never tired by personal
talk.* The half-literary conversation of half-learned
people, the commonplaces of politics and religious
dispute, are to me intolerable ; but the passions of men
excited by their genuine and immediate personal in-
terest always gain my sympathy, or sympathy is
supplied by the observations they suggest. And in
such conversations there is more truth and originality
and variety than in the others, in which, particularly
in religious conversations, there is a mixture of either
Pharisaical imposture or imperfect self-deception. Men
on such occasions talk to convince themselves, not
because they have feelings they must give vent to.

April 2'jth. — (At Cambridge.) I walked to the cofifee-

•-It was otherwise with his friend Wordsworth :

" I am not one who much or oft dehght
To season my fireside with personal talk."
Sonnets entitled " Personal Talk." Vol. IV., p. 200.

Chap. i.
•1816.

Mr. Crabb.

Personal
talk.

Princess Charlotte's Marriage.

Chap. i.
1816.

Sir R.
Wilson.

A good
reply.

A royal
marriage.

Arson.

room and read there the beginning of the trial of
Wilson, Bruce, and Hutchinson, for concealing Lava-
lette. In the examination of Sir R. Wilson, previous to
the trial, he gave one answer which equals anything
ever said by an accused person so examined. He was
asked, "Were you applied to, to assist in concealing
Lavalette ? "— " I was."—" Who applied to you t "— " I
was born and educated in a country in which the social
virtues are considered as public virtues, and I have not
trained my memory to a breach of friendship and con-
fidence."

I dined in the Hall. Each mess of four was allowed
an extra bottle of wine and a goose, in honour of
the marriage of the Princess Charlotte of Wales and
the Prince of Saxe-Coburg, which took place this
evening.

May \th. — I rode to Bury on the outside of the " Day"

coach from six to three Between nine

and ten we were alarmed by the intelligence that a fire
had broken out. I ran out, fearing it was at the house of
one of the Mr. Bucks; but it was at a great distance.
Many people were on the road, most of whom were laugh-
ing, and seemingly enjoying the fire. This was the fifth
or sixth fire that had taken place within a week or two,
and there could be no doubt it was an act of arson.
These very alarming outrages began some time since,
and the pretence was the existence of threshing-
machines. The farmers in the neighbourhood have'
surrendered them up, and exposed them broken on the
high road. Besides, the want of work by the poor, and
the diminished price of labour, have roused a dangerous

Biwnapartism.

spirit in the common people, — ^when roused, the most
formidable of enemies.

May 2Zth. — Called on Godwin. He was lately with
Wordsworth, and after spending a night at his house,
seems to have left him with feelings of strong political
difference ; and it was this alone, I believe, which, kept
them aloof from each other. I have learned to bear
with the intolerance of others when I understand it.
While Buonaparte threatened Europe with his all-
embracing military despotism, I felt that all other
causes of anxiety and fear were insignificant, and I was
content to forget the natural tendencies of the regular
governments to absolute power, of the people in those
states to corruption, and of Roman Catholicism to a
stupid and degrading religious bigotry. In spite of
these tendencies, Europe was rising morally and intel-
lectually, when the French Revolution, after promising
to advance the world rapidly in its progress towards
perfection, suddenly, by the woful turn it took, threw the
age back in its expectations, almost in its wishes, till at
last, from alarm and anxiety, even zealous reformers
were glad to compromise the cause of liberty, and pur-
chase national independence and political liberty at the
expense of civil liberty in France, Italy, &c. Most in-
tensely did I rejoice at the counter-Revolution. I had
also rejoiced, when a boy, at the Revolution, and I am
ashamed of neither sentiment. And I shall not be
ashamed, though the Bourbon government should be
as vile as any which France was cursed with under
the ancestors of Louis XVIII., and though the promises
of liberty given to the Germans by their sovereigns

Chap. i.
1816.

Godwin
and Words-
worth.

Bear and

forbear in

politics.

Wordsworth's Politics. — Flaxman on West, R.A.

Ghap. 1.
1816.

Words-
worth.

Flaxman
and West.

should all be broken, and though Italy and Spain
should relapse into the deepest horrors of Papal super-
stition. To rejoice in immediate good is permitted to
us. The immediate alone is within our scope of action
and observation. But now that the old system is
restored, with it the old cares and apprehensions revive
also. And I am sorry that Wordsworth cannot change
with the times. He ought, I think, now to exhort our
Government to economy, and >to represent the dangers
of a thoughtless return to all that was in existence
twenty-five years ago. Of the integrity of Words-
worth I have no doubt, and of his genius I have an
unbounded admiration ; but I doubt the discretion and
wisdom of his latest political writings.

June I2th. — Flaxman spoke about West. I related
the anecdote in his Life* of his first seeing the Apollo,
and comparing it to a Mohawk warrior. Flaxman laughed,
and said it was the criticism of one almost as great a
savage ;] for though there might be a coarse similarity in
the attitude, Apollo having shot an arrow, yet the figure
of the Mohawk must have been altogether unlike that
of the god. This anecdote Flaxman says he heard
West relate more than twenty years ago, in a discourse
delivered as President of the Academy. The anec-
dotes of West's first drawing before he had seen a
picture Flaxman considers as fabulous.

* "The Life and Studies of Benjamin West, Esq, President of the Royal
Academy of London, prior to his Arrival in England, compiled from Materials
furnished by himself." By John Gait. London, 18 16. This book was pub-
lished during the painter's life. A Second Part, relating to his hfe and studies
after his arrival in England, appeared just after his death in 1820, most of it
having been printed during his last illness. The anecdote referred to will be
, found in the First Part, p. 105.

Wtt/t Flaxmau and Shee among the Old Masters.

: June \\th. — Manning, after breakfasting with me,
accompanied me to the Italian pictures * The grati-
fication was not less than before. The admirable
"Ecce Homo" of Guido in particular delighted me,
and also Murillo's " Marriage at Cana." Amyot joined
me there. Also I met Flaxman, and with him was
Martin Shee, whom I chatted with. Shee was strong
in his censure of allegory, and incidentally adverted to
a lady who reproached him with being unable to relish
a certain poet because he wanted piety. The lady and
poet, it appeared, were Lady Beaumont and Words-
worth. Both Flaxman and Shee defended the conceit
in the picture of the " Holy Family in the Stable," in
which the light issues from the child ; and Flaxman
quoted in its justification the expression of the Scrip-
tures, that Christ came as a light, &c.

June 2ird. — I dined at Mr. Rutt's. I had intended
to sleep there ; but as Mr. Rutt goes early to bed,
I preferred a late walk home, from half-past ten to
twelve. And I enjoyed the walk, though the evening

* At the British Institution, previously Boydell's Shakespeare Gallery, in
Pall Mall, and within the last few months destroyed. This Exhibition, opened
in May, 1816, was the first collection which the directors had formed of Italian
and Spanish paintings. The "Ecce Homo " by Guido, mentioned in the text,
was probably the one (No. 33 of the Catalogue) from Stratton, belonging to
Sir T. Baring. A second "Ecce Homo," No. 55, then belonging to Mr.
West, and afterwards bequeathed by the poet Rogers to the National Gallery,
would have been too painful in treatment to have elicited the expression used
above. Murillo's " Marriage at Cana," No. 10 of the Catalogue, then be-
longed to Mr. G. Hibbert. It had formerly been in the Julienne, Presle, and
Robit Collections. It is now at Tottenham Park, Wilts, the property of the
Marquis of Ailesbury. The " Holy Family in the Stable" was the " Adora-
tion of the Magi," either No. 22, the fine Paul Veronese, from the Crozat
Collection, or 115, the Carlo Dolci, belonging respectively to the Earl of Aber-
deen and to Earl Cowper.

Chap. i.
1816.

Italian
pictures.

Shee.

" Times " Difiner-party.

Chap. i.
1816.

specimen of

mob

opitdon.

Din tier-
party at
Walter's.

was not very fine. I met a tipsy man, whom I chatted
with, and as he was a labourer of the lowest class, but
seemingly of a quiet mind, I was glad to meet with so
fair a specimen of mob feeling. He praised Sir Francis
Burdett as the people's friend and only good man in
the kingdom ; yet he did not seem to think flogging
either sailors or soldiers a very bad thing. He had
been assisting in building the new Tothill Fields prison,
and said he would rather be hanged than imprisoned
there seven years. He was somewhat mysterious on
this head. He said he would never sing, "Britons
never shall be Slaves," for Britons are all slaves. Yet
he wished for war, because there would be work for
the poor. If this be the general feeling of the lower
classes, the public peace can only be preserved by
a vigilant police and severe laws.

July ^th. — I dined with Walter. A small party.
Dr. Stoddart, Sterling, Sydenham, &c. The dinner
was small but of the first quality — turbot, turtle, and
venison, fowls and ham : wines, champagne and claret.
Sydenham was once reputed to be "Vetus," but his
conversation is only intelligent and anecdotic and gen-
tlemanly ; he is neither logical, nor sarcastic, nor point-
edly acute. He is therefore certainly not "Vetus." He
is a partisan of the Wellesleys, having been with the
Duke in India. Sterling is a sensible man. They were
all unfavourable to the actual ministry, and their fall
within six months was very confidently announced.

July 6th. — I took tea with Mrs. Barbauld, and played

chess with her till late. Miss H was there, and

delighted at the expectation of hearing a song com-

C. Lamb with a Present.

posed by her sung at Covent Garden. When, how-
ever, I mentioned this to her brother, in a jocular
manner, he made no answer, and seemed almost
offended. Sometimes I regret a want of sensibility in
my nature, but when such cases of perverted intensity of
feeling are brought to my observation, I rejoice at my
neutral apathetic character, as better than the more
sanguine and choleric temperament, which is so dan-
gerous at the same time that it is so popular and re-
spectable. The older I grow, the more I am satisfied, on
prudential grounds, with the constitution of my sensitive
nature. I am persuaded that there are very few persons
who suffer so little pain of all kinds as I do ; and if the
absence of vice be the beginning of virtue, so the absence
of suffering is the beginning of enjoyment. I must con-
fess, however, that I think my own nature an object of
felicitation rather than applause.

July iT^th. — An unsettled morning. My print of
Leonardo da Vinci's " Vierge aux Rochers " was brought
home framed. I took it to Miss Lamb as a present.
She was much pleased with it, and so was Lamb, and I
lost much of the morning in chatting with Miss Lamb.
I dined at the Colliers'. After dinner I went to Lamb's
and took tea with him. White of the India House was
there. We played three rubbers of whist. Lamb
was in great good humour, delighted like a child with
his present ; but I am to change the frame for him,
as all his other frames are black. How Lamb con-
firms the remark of the childlikeness of genius !

Sunday, i^th. — I walked to Becher, and he accom-
panied me to Oilman's, an apothecary at Highgate, with

Chap. i.
1816.

Sensitive-
ness.

Charles

and Mary

Lamb.

Coleridge^

Coleridge settled at Highgate.

Chap. i.

1816.

Goethe.

whom Coleridge is now staying. And he seems to
have profited already by the abstinence from opium, &c.;
for I never saw him look so well. He talked very sen-
sibly, but less eloquently and vehemently than usual.
He asked me to lend him some books, &c., and related
a history of the great injustice done him in the reports
circulated about his losing books. And certainly I
ought not to join in the reproach, for he gave me to-
day Kant's works, three vols., miscellaneous. Cole-
ridge talked about Goethe's work on the theory of
colours, and said he had some years back discovered
the same theory, and would certainly have reduced
it to form, and published it, had not Southey diverted
his attention from such studies to poetry. On my
mentioning that I had heard that an English work
had been published lately, developing the same sys-
tem, Coleridge answered, with great naivete, that he
was very free in communicating his thoughts on the
subject wherever he went, and among literary people.

July \%th. — The day was showery, but not very un-
pleasant. I read and finished Goethe's first No. " Ueber
Kunst," &c., giving an account of the works of art to be
met with on the Rhine. It is principally remarkable
as evincing the great poet's generous and disinterested
zeal for the arts. He seems to rejoice as cordially
in whatever can promote the intellectual prosperity
of his country as in the success of his own great mas-
terpieces of art. His account of the early painting
discovered at Cologne, and of the discovered design
of the Cathedral, is very interesting indeed. I also
read " Des Epimenides Erwachen," a kind of mask. It

Trials of Agriculttiral Rioters.

is an allegory, and of course has no great pretensions ;
but there are fine moral and didactic lines in very-
beautiful diction.

July 2T,rd. — (At Bury.) This day was spent in court
from ten to half-past five. It was occupied in the trial
of several sets of rioters, the defence of whom Leach
brought me. I was better pleased with myself than
yesterday, and I succeeded in getting off some indi-
viduals who would otherwise have been convicted. In
the trial of fifteen Stoke rioters, who broke a threshing-
machine, I made rather a long speech, but with little
effect. All were convicted but two, against whom no
evidence was brought. I urged that the evidence of
mere presence against four others was not sufficient to
convict them ; and had not the jury been very stupid,
and the foreman quite incompetent, there would have
been an acquittal.

On the trial of five rioters at Clare, I submitted to
the conviction of four. One was acquitted.

On the trial of six rioters at Hunden, three were con-
victed, for they were proved to have taken an active
share in destroying the threshing-machine. Alderson,
who conducted all the prosecutions, consented to acquit
one, and two others were acquitted because the one
witness who swore to more than mere presence was
contradicted by two witnesses I called, though the con-
tradiction was not of the most pleasing kind.

We adjourned at half-past five. One trial for a
conspiracy took place, in which I had no concern, and it
was the only contested matter in which I was not em-
ployed,— a very gratifying and promising circumstance.

Ghap. I.
1816.

Rioters
tried.

Howard, the Philanthropist.

Chap, i,
1816.

Howards
garden.

July 2/^th. — I was in court from ten o'clock to three.
The Rattlesden rioters, thirty in number, were tried.
All were convicted except four, whom Alderson con-
sented to discharge, and one who proved that he was
compelled to join the rioters. Morgan, a fine, high-
spirited old man of near seventy, who alone ventured
among the mob, defying them without receiving any
injury and by his courage gaining universal respect,
deposed with such particularity to every one of
the rioters, that it was in vain to make any defence.
I made some general observations in behalf of the
prisoners, and the Bench, having sentenced one to two
years' imprisonment, and others to one year and six
months' imprisonment, dismissed the greater number
on their finding security for their good behaviour.

August 2)^d. — (Bedford.) An agreeable day, being
relieved from the burthensome society of the circuit.
I breakfasted with Mr. Green, and about ten, Swabey
and Jameson accompanied me to the village of Car-
dington. Here we looked over the parish church, in
which is erected a beautiful monument by Bacon in
memory of the elder Whitbread. Two female figures
in alto and basso relief are supporting a dying figure.
The church has other monuments of less elaborate
workmanship, and is throughout an interesting village
church, very neat and handsome without finery.

Jameson and I then looked into the garden of
Captain Waldegrave, remarkable as having been
planted by the celebrated John Howard, who lived
here before he undertook the voyages which rendered
his life and his death memorable. An old man.

Play ford Hall. — Clarkson.

Howard's gardener, aged eighty-six, showed us the
grotto left in the condition in which it was when
Howard Hved there. The garden is chiefly interesting
from the recollections which it introduces of the very
excellent man who resided on the spot, and in which
should be placed, as the most significant and desirable
memorial, some representation of his person. The
village is very pretty. Howard's family are buried in
the church, and there is a small tablet to his memory :
"John Howard, died at Cherson, in Russian Tartary.
Jamiary 20th, 1790."

July igth. — (Ipswich.) I rose at six, and enjoyed a
leisurely walk to Playford, at four miles' distance, over
a very agreeable country, well cultivated and diversified
by gentle hills. Playford Hall stands in a valley. It
consists of one-half of an ancient hall of considerable
antiquity T, which had originally consisted of a regular
three-sided edifice, a row of columns having filled the
fourth side of the square. There is a moated ditch
round the building, and by stopping the issue of water,
which enters by a never-failing, though small, stream,
the ditch may be filled at any time. The mansion is
of brick, and the walls are very thick indeed. Some
ancient chimneys, and some large windows with stone
frames of good thickness, show the former splendour of
the residence. Lord Bristol is the owner of the estate,
to which belong 400 or 500 acres, and which Mr.
Clarkson now has on a twenty-one years' lease. Mr.
Clarkson, on my arrival, showed me about the garden ;
and after I had breakfasted Mrs. Clarkson came down,
and I spent a long morning very agreeably with her.

Chap. r.
1816.

Playford
Hall.

Abolitionists — their Merits.

Chap. i.
1816.

SlavC'trade.

H. C. R.

sets out on
a tour.

We walked to the parish church, up and down the
valley, round the fields, &c., and I readily sympathized
with Mrs. Clarksori in the pleasure with which she
expatiated on the comforts of the situation, and in thef
hope of their continued residence there. ■

Rem.* — To this place Mr. Clarkson retired after the
great work — -the only work he projected, viz. the
abolition of the slave-trade — ^was effected ; not antici-
pating that slavery itself would be abolished by our
Government in his day. This, however, would hardly
have taken place had it not been for his exertions to
accomplish the first step.

When the present extent of the evil is adverted to,
as it frequently is, ungenerously, in order to lessen^
the merit of the abolitionists, it is always forgotteri
that, if on the revival of commerce after the peace of
18 13, and the revival of the spirit of colonization by the
European powers, the slave-trade had still been the
practice of Europe, it would have increased tenfold.
All Australia, New Zealand, and every part of the New
World, would have been peopled by Africans, purchased
or stolen by English, Dutch, and French traders.

August 2()th. — At half-past eight I mounted the
Oxford stage, at the corner of Chancery Lane, on a
tour, intended to embrace the lakes of Cumberland and
Westmoreland. i ■. "

Next day I met with two gentlemen, with whosd
appearance and manner I was at once struck and
pleased, and with whom I became almost immediately
acquainted. The name of one is Torlonia, a young

- . ♦.Written in 1851.

Tour to the Lakes.

Italian (about twenty), and of the other Mr. Walter,
his tutor, about twenty-eight.

September ist. — Strolling into the old church* at
Manchester, I heard a strange noise, which I should
elsewhere have mistaken for the bleating of lambs.
Going to the spot, a distant aisle, I found two rows of
women standing in files, each with a babe in her arms.
The minister went down the line, sprinkling each infant
as he went. I suppose the efficiency of the sprinkling
— I mean the fact that the water did touch — was
evidenced by a distinct squeal from each. Words were
muttered by the priest on his course, but one prayer
served for all. This I thought to be a christening by
wholesale ; and I could not repress the irreverent
thought that, being in the metropolis of manufactures,
the aid of steam or machinery might be called in. I
was told that on Sunday evenings the ceremony is
repeated. Necessity is the only apology for so ir-
reverent a performance of a religious rite. How the
essence of religion is sacrificed to these formalities of
the Establishment !

September 2nd. — (At Preston.) My companions were
glad to look into the Catholic chapel, which is spacious
and neat. Mr. Walter purchased here a pamphlet,
which afforded me some amusement. It is a narrative
extracted from Luther's writings, of the dialogue related
by Luther himself to have been carried on between him
and the Devil, who, Luther declares, was the first who
pointed out to him the absurdity and evil of private

* Then, I believe, the only parochial church of the town, and now raised to
the rank of a cathedral. — H. C. R.

VOL. II. C

Chap. r.
1816.

Wholesale
christening.

Anecdote of
Luther.

Wordsworth at Home ;

Chap, i,
1816.

Rydal
Mount,

mass. Of course, it is strongly pressed upon the
pious reader that even Luther himself confesses that
the Father of Lies was the author of the Reforma-
tion ; and a pretty good story is made out for the
Catholic.

September $th. — (Ambleside.) This was one of the
most delightful days of my journey ; but it is not easy
to describe the gratification arising partly from the
society of most excellent persons, and partly from
beautiful scenery. Mr, Walter expressed so strong a
desire to see Wordsworth, that I resolved to take him
with me on a call. After breakfast we walked to
Rydal, every turn presenting new beauty. The con-
stantly changing position of the screen of hill produced
a great variety of fine objects, of which the high and
narrow pass into Rydal Water is the grandest. In this
valley, to the right, stands a spacious house, the seat
of the Flemings, and near it, in a finer situation,
the house of Wordsworth, We met him in the road
before the house. His salutation was most cordial.
Mr, Walter's plans were very soon overthrown by the
conversation of the poet in such a spot. He at once
agreed to protract his stay among the lakes, and to
spend the day at Grasmere. Torlonia was placed on a
pony, which was a wild mountaineer, and though it
could not unhorse him, ran away with him twice.
From a hillock Wordsworth pointed out several houses
in Grasmere in which he had lived.*

During the day I took an opportunity of calling on
De Quincey, my Temple-hall acquaintance. He has

* The cottage at Townend, Allan Bank, and the Parsonage.

his House and Family.

been very much an invalid, and his appearance bespoke
ill-health.

Our evening was spent at Wordsworth's. Mr.
Tillbrook of Cambridge, formerly Thomas Clarkson's *
tutor, was there. The conversation was general, but
highly interesting. The evening was very fine, and we
for the first time perceived all the beauties (glories they
might be called) of Rydal Mount, It is so situated as
to afford from the windows of both sitting-rooms a
direct view of the valley, with the head of Windermere
at its extremity, and from a terrace in the garden a view
on to Rydal Water, and the winding of the valley
in that direction. These views are of a very different
character, and may be regarded as supplementing
each other.

The house, too, is convenient and large enough for
a family man. And it was a serious gratification to
behold so great and so good a man as Wordsworth
in the bosom of his family enjoying those comforts
which are apparent to the eye. He has two sons
and a daughter surviving. They appear to be amiable
children. And, adding to these external blessings the
mind of the man, he may justly be considered as one
of the most enviable of mankind. The injustice of the
public towards him, in regard to the appreciation of his
works, he is sensible of But he is aware that, though
the great body of readers — the admirers of Lord Byron,
for instance — cannot and ought not to be his admirers
too, still he is not without his fame. And he has that
expectation of posthumous renown which has cheered

* Son of the abolitionist.

C 2

Chap. i.
1816.

Words-
worth.

De Q?nnccy. — Soiithey.

Chap. i.
1816.

De Quincey.

Catholic
chapel.

Italian
image-
seller.

Keswick,

many a poet, who has had less legitimate claims to it,
and whose expectations have not been disappointed.

Mr. Walter sang some Scotch airs to Mr. Tillbrook's
flute, and we did not leave Rydal Mount till late. My
companions declare it will be to them a memorable
evening.

Just as we were going to bed De Quincey called on
me. He was in much better spirits than when I saw
him in the morning, and expressed a wish to walk with
me about the neighbourhood.

September ^th. — I returned to Kendal, partly to
accommodate my friends, who were pledged to omit no
opportunity of hearing Sunday mass. I went to the
Catholic chapel ; and as I stood up while others were
kneeling, I found my coat tugged at violently. This
was occasioned by a combination of Roman Catholic
and Italian zeal. The tug of recognition came from an
Italian boy, a Piedmontese image-seller, whom we had
met with before on the road — a spirited lad, who refused
a shilling Torlonia offered him, and said he had saved
enough by selling images and other Italian articles to
buy himself land in Savoy. I understood him to say
;£'8o ; but that is probably a mistake. He had, how-
ever, been several years in England.

September <^th. — (Keswick.) We were gratified by
receiving an invitation to take tea with the Poet
Laureate. This was given to our whole party, and our
dinner was, in consequence, shortened, I had a small
room on a second floor, from the windows of which I
had a glimpse only of the fine mountain scenery, and
could see a single house only amid gardens out of the

The Laureate^ at Home.

town. The mountain was Skiddaw. The house was
Southey's.

The laureate lives in a large house in a nurseryman's
grounds. It enjoys a panoramic view of the moun-
tains ; and as Southey spends so much of his time
within doors, this lovely and extensive view supplies
the place of travelling beyond his own premises.

We spent a highly agreeable evening with Southey.
Mr. Nash, Mr. Westall, Jun., several ladies. Miss
Barker, Mrs. Southey, Mrs, Coleridge, and Mrs. Lovell,
were of the party. The conversation was on various
subjects. Southey's library is richly stored with
Spanish and Portuguese books. These he showed
to my Catholic friends, withholding some which he
thought might give them uneasiness. Looking at his
books, he said, with great feeling, that he sometimes
regarded them with pain, thinking what might here-
after become of them, — a pathetic allusion to the loss
of his son.

On Spanish politics he spoke freely. At the same
time that he reproached Ferdinand with a want of
generosity, he stated his conviction that he acted
defensively. The liberals would have dethroned him
at once, had they been permitted to carry into effect
the new constitution.

I found his opinions concerning the state and
prospects of this country most gloomy. He considers
the Government seriously endangered by the writings
of Cobbett, and still more by the Examiner. Jacob-
inism he deems more an object of terror than at the
commencement of the French Revolution, from the

Chap. i.

1816.
Southey.

Southey on
Ferdinand
of Spain.

On the
prospects oj
England.

Sotithey on Politics. — Coleridge s Children.

Chap. i.

1816.

Coleridge's
children.

difficulties arising out of the financial embarrassments.
He says that he thinks there will be a convulsion in
three years !

I was more scanda4ized by his opinions concerning
the press than by any other doctrine. He would have
transportation the punishment for a seditious libel ! ! !
I ought to add, however, that I am convinced Southey is
an honest alarmist. I did not dispute any point with him.

Hartley Coleridge is one of the strangest boys I ever
saw.* He has the features of a foreign Jew, with starch
and affected manners. He is a boy pedant, exceedingly
formal, and, I should suppose, clever.

Coleridge's daughter has a face of great sweetness.-f*

Derwent Coleridge I saw at Wordsworth's. He
is a hearty boy, with a good-natured expression. Of
literature not much was said. Literature is now
Southey's trade ; he is a manufacturer, and his work-
shop is his study, — a very beautiful one certainly, but
its beauty and the delightful environs, as well as his
own celebrity, subject him to interruptions. His time
is his wealth, and I shall therefore scrupulously abstain
from stealing any portion of it.

September nth. — I left Torlonia and his tutor with
feelings almost of friendship, certainly of respect and
regard, and I look forward with pleasure to the con-
tinuance of our acquaintance.

Rem.\ — The tutor was gentlemanly in his manners,

* Hartley Coleridge is the author of " Northern Worthies," and numerous
beautiful poems. His life was written by his brother Derwent.

f Afterwards Mrs. Henry Nelson Coleridge, the editor of many of hei*
father's works.

J Written in 1851.

Wet Walk with Wordsworth.

and as liberal as a sincere Roman Catholic could be.
The young man was reserved and well bred, but already
an artificial character, so that I was prepared for what
I afterwards experienced from him.*

September 10th. — After I had taken a cold dinner,
Mr. Wordsworth came to me, and between three and
four we set out for Cockermouth ; he on horseback, I on
foot. We started in a heavy shower, which thoroughly
wetted me. The rain continued with but little inter-
mission during a great part of the afternoon, and
therefore the fine scenery in the immediate neighbour-
hood of Keswick was entirely lost. The road, too, was
so very bad, that all my attention was requisite to keep
my shoes on my feet. I have no recollection of any
village or of any scenery, except some pleasing views
of the lake of Bassenthwaite, and of Skiddaw, from
which we seemed to recede so little, that even when we
were near Cockermouth the mountain looked near to
us. In the close and interesting conversation we kept
up, Mr. Wordsworth was not quite attentive to the road,
and we lost our way. A boy, however, who guided us
through some terribly dirty lanes, put us right. By this
time it was become dark, and it was late before we
reached the Globe at Cockermouth.

If this were the place, and if my memory were
good, I could enrich my journal by retailing Words-
worth's conversation. He is an eloquent speaker,
and he talked upon his own art, and his own works,
very feelingly and very profoundly ; but I cannot
venture to state more than a few intelligible results,

* See a future chapter in reference to H. C. R.'s residence in Rome,

Chap. i.
1816.

Walk with
Words-
worth.

Words-
luorth s con-
versation
and poems.

Origin and Purpose of

Chap. i.
1816.

Lucy Gray.

The Leech-
gatherer.

The Oak
ajui the
Broom.

for I own that much of what he said was above my
comprehension.

He stated, what I had before taken for granted, that
most of his lyrical ballads were founded on some inci-
dent he had witnessed, or heard of. He mentioned the
origin of several poems.

"Lucy Gray,"* that tender and pathetic narrative of
a child mysteriously lost on a common, was occasioned
by the death of a child who fell into the lock of a
canal. His object was to exhibit poetically entire
solitude, and he represents the child as observing the
day-moon, which no town or village girl would even
notice.

The " Leech-gatherer "-f- he did actually meet near
Grasmere, except that he gave to his poetic character
powers of mind which his original did not possess.

The fable of " The Oak and the Broom" j proceeded
from his beholding a rose in just such a situation as he
described the broom to be in. Perhaps, however, all
poets have had their works suggested in like manner.
What I wish I could venture to state after Wordsworth,
is his conception of the manner in which the mere
fact is converted into poetry by the power of imagi-
nation.

He represented, however, much as, unknown to him,
the German philosophers have done, that by the
imagination the mere fact is exhibited as connected
with that infinity without which there is no poetry.

• Wordsworth's " Poetical Works." Vol. I. p. 156.
t " Resolution and Independence." Vol. 11. p. 124.
X Vol. 11. p. 20.

several of Wordszuorth's Poems.

He spoke of his tale of the dog, called "Fidelity."*
He says he purposely made the narrative as prosaic
as possible, in order that no discredit might be thrown
on the truth of the incident. In the description at the
beginning, and in the moral at the end, he has alone
indulged in a poetic vein ; and these parts, he thinks,
he has peculiarly succeeded in.

He quoted some of the latter poem, and also from
"•The Kitten and the Falling Leaves," f to show he had
connected even the kitten with the great, awful, and
mysterious powers of nature. But neither now, nor in
reading the Preface to Wordsworth's new edition of his
poems, have I been able to comprehend his ideas con-
cerning poetic imagination. I have not been able to
raise my mind to the subject, farther than this, that
imagination is the faculty by which the poet conceives
and produces — that is, images — individual forms, in
which are embodied universal ideas or abstractions.
This I do comprehend, and I find the most beautiful
and striking illustrations of this faculty in the works of
Wordsworth himself

The incomparable twelve lines, " She dwelt among
the untrodden ways," J ending, " The difference to me !"
are finely imagined. They exhibit the powerful effect
of the loss of a very obscure object upon one tenderly
attached to it. The opposition between the apparent
strength of the passion and the insignificance of the
object is delightfully conceived, and the object itself
well portrayed.

September \2th. — This was a day of rest, but of enjoy-

i Vol. IV. p. 207. t Vol. II. p. 61. \ Vol. I. p. 215.

Chap. i.

1816.
Fidelity.

The Kitten
and the
Falling
Leaves.

Poetic ima-
gination.

She dwelt

among the

untrodden

•ways.

A Prophet without Honour.

Chap. i.
1816.

Cocker-
mouth,

A wet
journey.

ment also, though the amusement of the day was rather
social than arising from the beauties of nature.

I wrote some of my journal in bed. After my break-
fast I accompanied Mr. Wordsworth, Mr. Hutton, and a
Mr. Smith to look at some fields belonging to the late
Mr. Wordsworth,* and which were to be sold by auction
this evening. I may here mention a singular illustra-
tion of the maxim, "A prophet is not without honour save
in his own country." Mr. Hutton, a very gentlemanly
and seemingly intelligent man, asked me, " Is it true —
as I have heard reported — that Mr. Wordsworth ever
wrote verses ? "

September I'^th. — This morning I rose anxious to find
the change of weather of which yesterday had afforded
us a reasonable hope. For a time I was flattered by
the expectation that summer would come at last,
though out of season ; but the clouds soon collected,
and the day, to my great regret, though still not to the
loss of my spirits or temper, proved one of the worst of
my journey.

I wrote in my journal till I was called to accompany
Wordsworth and Mr. Hutton, They were on horse-
back. The first part of our road, in which one lofty
and precipitous rock is a noble object, lay to the right
of the mountains in Lorton Vale, which we skirted at a
distance. As we advanced the weather grew worse.
We passed Lampleugh Cross, and when we came near
the vale of Ennerdale, and were at the spot where the
vale is specially beautiful and interesting, the mist was-

* Wordsworth's eldest brother, Richard, who was Sohcitor to the Commis-
sioners of His Majesty's Woods and Forests.

Wordsworth's Father.

so thick as to obscure every object. Nothing was
distinguishable. We crossed the bridge at Ennerdale,
and there the road led us over Cold Fell. Cold and
fell certainly were the day and the scene. It rained
violently, so that it was with difficulty I could keep up
my umbrella. The scene must be wild at any time.
The only object I could discern was a sort of naked
glen on our right ; a secluded spot, rendered lively,
however, by a few farmhouses. As we descended the
fell the weather cleared up, and I could discern an
extensive line of the Irish Sea. And as we approached
Calder Bridge we beheld the woods of Ponsonby, in
which Calder Abbey stands, together with an interesting
champaign scene of considerable extent. I ought not
to omit that it was on this very Cold Fell that Mr,
Wordsworth's father lost his way, and spent a whole
night. He was instantly taken ill, and never rose again
from the attack. He died in a few weeks.

The dreary walk had been relieved by long and
interesting conversations, sometimes on subjects con-
nected with the business arising out of the late Mr.
Wordsworth's will, and sometimes on poetry.

We had, too, at the close of the walk, a very great
pleasure. We turned out of the road to look at the
ruins of Calder Abbey. These ruins are of small
extent, but they are very elegant indeed. The remains
of the centre arches of the Abbey are very perfect.
The four grand arches, over which was the lanthorn of
the church, are entire. There are also some pillars,
those of the north side of the nave, and one or two low
Norman doors, of great beauty. We inserted , our '

Chap. i.

1816.

Cold Fell.

Calder
Abbey ^

Calder Abbey and Bridge.

Chap. i.
1816.

More wet.

Holm Rook.

names in a book left in a small apartment, where are
preserved some remains of sculpture and some Roman
inscriptions.

At half a mile distance is the inn at Calder Bridge,
where we dined and took tea. Wordsworth was
fatigued, and therefore, after an hour's chat, he took the
Quarterly Review, and I took to^jmy journal, which I
completed at twelve o'clock.

I omitted to notice that I read yesterday Southey's
article on the Poor, in the last Quarterly Review, a
very benevolently conceived and well-written article,
abounding in excellent ideas, and proving that, though
he may have changed his opinions concerning govern-
ments and demagogues, he retains all his original love
of mankind, and the same zeal to promote the best
interests of humanity.

September i^th. — (Ravenglass.) We left our very
comfortable inn, the Fleece at Calder Bridge, after
breakfast. The day appeared to be decidedly bad, and
I began to despair of enjoying any fine weather during
my stay in the country. As I left the village, I doubly
regretted going from a spot which I could through mist
and rain discern to be a delicious retreat, more re-
sembling the lovely secluded retirements I have often
seen in Wales, than anything I have met with on the
present journey. We had but seven miles to walk.
We were now near the sea, with mountains on our left
hand. We, however, went to see the grounds of an
Admiral Lutwidge, at Holm Rook ; and, sending in a
message to the master of the house, he came out, and
dryly gave the gardener permission to accompany us

Wordsworth at a Cumberland Auction.

over the garden. He eyed us closely, and his manner
seemed that of a person who doubted whether we were
entitled to the favour we asked. The grounds are
pleasingly laid out. The Irt — to-day at least a rapid
river — runs winding in a valley which has been planted
on each side. From the heights of the grounds fine
views may be seen on fine days. We went into a hot-
house, and after admiring the rich clusters of grapes,
were treated with a bunch of them.

Having ascertained that we could cross the estuary of
the Mite river, we came to Ravenglass by the road next
the sea, and found Mr. Hutton in attendance.

I was both wet and dirty, and was glad, as yesterday,
to throw myself between the blankets of a bed and
read the Quarterly Review. A stranger joined us at
the dinner-table, and after dinner we took a stroll be-
yond the village. Near Ravenglass, the Esk, the Irt,
and the Mite flow into the sea ; but the village itself
lies more dismally than any place I ever saw on a sea-
shore ; though I could hear the murmur of the sea, I
could barely see it from a distance. Sandhills are
visible on each side in abundance.

The place consists of a wretched street, and it has
scarcely a decent house, so that it has not a single
attraction or comfort in bad weather. On a clear day,
I understand, there are fine views from the adjacent
hills.

The auction — of some pieces of land — did not begin
till we had taken tea. This is the custom in this
country. Punch is sent about while the bidding is
going on, and it is usual for a man to go from one room

Chap. t.
1816.

Raven-
glass.

A Cum-
berland
auction.

A t Keswick. — Southey.

Chap. r.
1816.

Mary of
Buttermere.

to another, and report the bidding which is made in the
rooms where the auctioneer is not. While I have been
writing this page, I have continually heard the voice of
this man.

I have also been once downstairs, but the passage is
crowded by low people, to whom an auction must be an
extraordinary and remarkable occurrence in a place so
secluded and remote as this, and who, besides, contrive
to get access to the punch-bowl. I have been reading
the article in the Quarterly Review about Madame la
Roche Jacquelein, by Southey. It is very interesting,
like the Edinburgh review of the same work — a good
epitome of the narrative. But though I am removed
sufficiently from the bustle of the auction not to be dis-
turbed by it, yet the circumstances are not favourable
to my being absorbed by my book.

I slept in a double-bedded room with Wordsworth.
I went early to bed and read till he came upstairs.

September i$th. — On Hardknot Wordsworth and I
parted, he to return to Rydal, and I to Keswick.

Rem* — Making Keswick my head-quarters, I made
excursions to Borrowdale, which surpasses any vale I
have seen in the North, to Wastdale, to Crummock
Water, and to Buttermere : during a part of the time
the weather was favourable. At the last-named place,
the landlady of the little inn, the successor to Mary of
Buttermere, is a very sweet woman — even genteel in
person and manners. The Southeys and Wordsworths
all say that she is far superior to the celebrated Mary.

September 22nd, — (Keswick.) Though I felt unwilling

* Written in 1851.

Walk and Political Talk.

to quit this magnificent centre of attractions, yet my
calculations last night convinced me that I ought to
return. Half of my time, and even more, is spent,
and almost half my money. Everything combines to
render this the solstice of my excursion.

Having breakfasted, I carried a book to Southey, and
took leave of the ladies. He insisted on accompanying
me, at least to the point where the Thirlmere Road,
round the western side of the lake, turns off. I enjoyed
the walk. He was both frank and cordial. We spoke
freely on politics. I have no doubt of the perfect
purity and integrity of his mind. I think that he is
an alarmist, though what he fears is a reasonable cause
of alarm, viz. a bellum servile, stimulated by the press.
Of all calamities in a civilized state, none is so horrid
as a conflict between the force of the poor, combining
together with foresight and deliberation, and that of
the rich, the masters, the repositories of whatever in-
tellectual stores the country possesses. The people,
Southey thinks, have just education and knowledge
enough to perceive that they are not placed in such a
condition as they ought to be in, without the faculty
of discovering the remedy for the disease, or even its
cause. In such a state, with the habit of combination
formed through the agency of benefit societies, as tbe
system of the Luddites* shows, judgments are per-
verted, and passions roused, by such writers as Cobbett
and Hunt, and the war is in secret preparing. This
seems to be the idea uppermost in Southey's mind, and

. * Serious riots were caused in 18 12, 1814, 1816, and subsequently, by large
parties of men under this title. They broke frames and machinery in factories, j
besides committing other excesses.

Chap. i.
1816.

Southey's
politics.

Southey's
dread of a
civil war.

With Wordsworth tip Nab Scar.

Chap. i.
1816.

Words-
worthy

De Quittcey.

which has carried him very honestly farther than per-
haps he ought to be carried in support of Government
But he is still, and warmly, a friend to national edu-
cation, and to the lower classes, and as humane as ever
he was. He has convinced me of the perfect exemption
of his mind from all dishonourable motives, in the
change which has taken place in his practical politics
and philosophy.

We conversed also on literature — on Wordsworth and
his own works. He appreciates Wordsworth as he
ought. Of his own works he thinks " Don Roderick "
by far the best, though Wordsworth prefers, as I do,
his " Kehama." Neither of us spoke of his political
poems.

September 2^th. — (Ambleside.) I called on Words-
worth, who offered to accompany me up Nab Scar, the
lofty rocky fell immediately behind and hanging over
his house. The ascent was laborious, but the view from
the summit was more interesting than any I had before
enjoyed from a mountain on this journey. I beheld
Rydal Water from the brow of the mountain, and
afterwards, under a favourable sun, though the air was
far from clear, I saw Windermere, with little inter-
ruption, from the foot to the head, Esthwaite Lake,
Blelham Tarn, a part of Coniston Lake, a very extensive
coast with the estuary near Lancaster, &c. &c. These
pleasing objects compensated for the loss of the nobler
views from Helvellyn, which I might have had, had I
not engaged to dine with De Quincey to-day.

Wordsworth conducted me over the fell, and left me,
near De Quincey's house, a little after one. He was in

A Walk with De Quincey,

bed, but rose on my arrival, I was gratified by the
sight of a large collection of books, which I lounged
over. De Quincey, about two, set out on a short excur-
sion with me, which I did not so much enjoy as he
seemed to expect. We crossed the sweet vale of Gras-
mere, and ascended the fell on the opposite corner of
the valley to Easdale Tarn. The charm of this spot is
the solemnity of the seclusion in which it lies. There is
a semicircle of lofty and grey rocks, which are wild
and rugged, but promote the repose suggested by the
motionless water.

We returned to dinner at half-past four, and in an
hour De Quincey accompanied me on the mountain
road to Rydal Mount, and left me at the gate of
Wordsworth's garden-terrace.

I took tea with Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth, and Miss
Hutchinson, and had four hours of conversation as
varied and delightful as I ever enjoyed ; but the detail
ought not to be introduced into a narrative like this.

Wordsworth accompanied me on the road, and I
parted from him under the impressions of thankfulness
for personal attentions, in addition to the high reverence
I felt before for his character. I found De Quincey up,
and chatted with him till past twelve.

September 25///. — This was a day of unexpected
enjoyment. I lounged over books till past ten, when
De Quincey came down to breakfast. It was not till
past twelve we commenced our walk, which had been
marked out by Wordsworth. We first passed Grasmere
Church, and then, going along the opposite side of the
lake, crossed by a mountain road into the vale of Great

VOL. II. D

Chap. i.
1816.

Rydal
Mount,

Walk with

De
Quincey.

Leeds. — Norwich. — Tour ends.

Chap, i.
1816.

Dr.

Thompson.

William

Smith,

M.P./or

Norwich.

Langdale. The characteristic repose of Grasmere was
fully enjoyed by me.

My return from the Lakes comprehended a visit to
my friend George Stansfeld,* then settled at Bradford.
With him I made an excursion to Halifax, where
was then living Dr. Thompson, who, after being an
esteemed Unitarian preacher, became a physician. An
early death deprived the world of a very valuable
member of society, and my friend Mrs. William Pattis-
son of a cousin, of whom she and her husband had
reason to be proud.

At Leeds, I took a bed at Mr. Stansfeld's, Senr. I
always feel myself benefited by being with the Stansfeld
family. There is something most gratifying in the sight
of domestic happiness united with moral worth.

At Norwich, where I joined the Sessions, I heard the
city member, William Smith, address his constituents
on a petition for parliamentary reform, which he pro-
mised to present. I admired the tact with which he
gave the people to understand that little good could be
expected from their doings, and yet gave no offence.

October i/^th. — To-day my journey ends — a journey
of great pleasure ; for I had good health, good spirits,
and a will determined to be pleased. I had also the
advantage of enjoying occasionally the very best society.
Otherwise my tour would have been a sad one, having
been undertaken in a season the worst which any man
recollects, and peculiarly unfavourable to the enjoyment
of picturesque scenery.

* See Vol. I. p. 233.

Letter to Wordsworth.

H. C. R. TO Wordsworth.

My dear Sir,

[No date.]

I fear I must have appeared very ungrateful to
you, and yet I do not reproach myself for my silence so
much as I perhaps ought, for I am conscious how much
you and your family, and everything connected with
you, have dwelt on my mind since last September, and
that I have not lost, and do not fear to lose, the most
lively and gratifying recollection of your kindness
and attentions. It is these alone that prevent my
regretting the selection of such an unpropitious
summer for my tour. Did I once see a bright sun
in Cumberland or Westmoreland } I very much
doubt it.

At last, however, the sun, as if to show how much he
could do without any accompaniment whatever, made
his appearance in the middle of a Lincolnshire wash,
and I actually walked several days with perfect content-
ment, though I had no other object to amuse me. I
was supported by that internal hilarity which I have
more than once found an adequate cause of happiness.
At some moments, I own, I thought there was an
insulting spirit in the joyous vivacity and freshness with
which some flat blotches of water, without even a shore,
were curled by the breeze, and made alive and gaudy
by moor-fowl, small birds, and insects, while floating
clouds scattered their shadows over the dullest of
heaths. Or was all this to admonish and comfort a
humble Suflblk-man, and show him how high the
meanest of counties may be raised by sunshine, and how

D 2

Chap. i.
1816.

Letter from
H. C. R. til
Words-
worth.

Lamb on Wit.

Chap. i.
1816.

A talk with
Lamb oti

pU7lS.

Coleridge s
wit.

Lamb.

low the most glorious may be depressed by the absence
of it, or the interference of a mere vapour ?

November 2nd. — At ten o'clock I called on the Lambs.
Burney was there, and we played a rubber, and
afterwards Talfourd stepped in. We had a long chat
together.

We talked of puns, wit, &c. Lamb has no respect
for any wit which turns on a serious thought. He
positively declared that he thought his joke about my
" great first cause, least understood," a bad one. On the
other hand, he said, " If you will quote any of my
jokes, quote this, which is really a good one. Hume
and his wife and several of their children were with me.
Hume repeated the old saying, ' One fool makes many.'
' Ay, Mr. Hume,' said I, pointing to the company,
'you have a fine family.'" Neither Talfourd nor I could
see the excellence of this. However, he related a piece
of wit by Coleridge which we all held to be capital.
Lamb had written to Coleridge about one of their old
Christ's Hospital masters, who had been a severe dis-
ciplinarian, intimating that he hoped Coleridge had
forgiven all injuries. Coleridge replied that he cer-
tainly had ; he hoped his old master's soul was in heaven,
and that when he went there he was borne by a host of
cherubs, all face and wing, and without anything to ex-
cite his whipping propensities !

We talked of HazHtt's late ferocious attack on
Coleridge, which Lamb thought fair enough, between
the parties ; but he was half-angry with Martin Burney
for asserting that the praise was greater than the abuse.

Basil Motitagu.

" Nobody," said Lamb, " will care about or understand
the * taking up the deep pauses of conversation between
seraphs and cardinals,' but the satire will be univer-
sally felt. Such an article is like saluting a man, * Sir,
you are the greatest man I ever saw,' and then pulling
him by the nose."

Simday, 2\th. — I breakfasted with Basil Montagu.
Arriving before he was ready to receive me, he put into
my hands a sermon by South, on Man as the Image of
God, perfect before the Fall, — a most eloquent and
profound display of the glories of man in an idealized
condition, with all his faculties clarified, as it were, and
free from the infirmities of sense. It is absurd to sup-
pose this as the actual condition of Adam, for how could
such a being err } But as a philosophical and ideal
picture it is of superlative excellence. In treating of
the intellect, I observed a wonderful similarity between
South and Kant. I must and will read more of this
very great and by me hitherto unknown writer.

I read at Montagu's Coleridge's beautiful " Fire,
Famine, and Slaughter," written in his Jacobinical days,
and now reprinted, to his annoyance, by Hunt in the
Examiner. Also an article on commonplace critics by
Hazlitt. His definition of good company excellent, —
"Those who live on their own estates and other
people's ideas."

December \st. — This was a pleasantly though idly
spent day. I breakfasted with Walter and Torlonia, and
then accompanied them to the Portuguese Minister's
chapel, where the restoration of the Braganza family to
the throne of Portugal was celebrated by a grand per-

Chap. I.

i8i6.

Souih's

sermon oh

Man the

Image of

God.

Hazlitt.

Mass at the

Portuguese

chapel.

A Grand Mass. — Byron.

Chap. i.
1816.

Byron on

the Lake

poets.

Kean in

' The Iron

Chest."

Kean s
Mortimer.

formance of mass. I had the advantage of knowing
the words, and they assisted my dull sense in properly
feeling the import of the music, which I unaffectedly
enjoyed. Strutt was there, and declared it was most
excellent. " I was like the unbeliever," said he, " and
ready to cry out, ' Almost thou persuadest me.' " I
was myself particularly pleased with the finale of the
creed, — a triumphant flourish, as if the believer, having
declared his faith, went away rejoicing. The transition
and the pathetic movements in the Te Deum are, from
the contrast, very impressive.

Cargill was telling me the other day that in a letter
written by Lord Byron to Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd,
in his rattling way he wrote : " Wordsworth, stupendous

genius ! D d fool ! These poets run about their

ponds though they cannot fish. I am told there is not
one who can angle. D d fools ! "

December 2nd. — I dined at the Colliers', and afterwards
went to Drury Lane with Naylor, who had procured
orders and a box for us. We saw " The Iron Chest ;" a
play of little merit, I think. The psychological interest
is all the work of Godwin. Colman has added nothing
that is excellent to " Caleb Williams." The underplot
is very insipid, and is hardly connected with the main
incident. But the acting of Kean was very fine indeed.
He has risen again in my esteem. His impassioned
disclosure of the secret to Wilford, and his suppressed
feelings during the examination of Wilford before the
magistrates, were most excellent ; though it is to be
observed that the acting of affected sensations, such as
constrained passion under the mask of indifference, is an

A Talk with Coleridge.

easy task. If the poet has well conceived the situation, the
imagination of the spectator wonderfully helps the actor.
I was at a distance, and yet enjoyed the performance.

December 2ist. — Called on Coleridge, and enjoyed his
conversation for an hour and a half. He looked ill,
and, indeed, Mr. Oilman says he has been very ill.
Coleridge has been able to work a great deal of late,
and with success. The second and third Lay Sermons
and his Poems, and Memoirs of his Life, &c., in two
volumes, are to appear. These exertions have been too
great, Mr. Oilman says.

Coleridge talked easily and well, with less than his
usual declamation. He explained, at our request, his
idea of fancy, styling it memory without judgment,
and of course not filling that place in a chart of the
mind which imagination holds, and which in his Lay
Sermon he has admirably described.* Wordsworth's
obscure discrimination between fancy and imagination,
in his last preface, is greatly illustrated by what
Coleridge has here written. He read us some extracts
from his new poems, &c., and spoke of his Oerman
reading. He praises Stefifens and complains of the
Catholicism of Schlegel, Tieck, &c.

He mentioned Hazlitt's attack upon him with greater
moderation than I expected.

Rem.-\ — It was the day after this conversation with
Coleridge, that I broke altogether with Hazlitt, in
consequence of an article in the ExaminerX manifestly

- * H.C. R. had probably in his mind " Biographia Literaria," Vol. I. pp. 8i, 82.

f Written in 1851.

X The Examiner of December 24, 1815, contains some contemptuous re-
marks on Wordsworth's poetry, signed W.

Chap. i.
1816.

Coleridge.

End of
H. C. R.'s
acquaint-
ance with
Hazlitt.

H. C. R. cuts Hazlitt.

Chap. i.
1816.

Alary
Lamb.

Baron

Wood

working for

a non-suit.

Game Law
case.

written by him, in which he abused Wordsworth for his
writings in favour of the King.

After I had cut Hazlitt, Mary Lamb said to me,
" You are rich in friends. We cannot afford to cast
off our friends because they are not all we wish." And
I have heard Lamb say, " Hazlitt does bad actions
without being a bad man."

Rem* — My fees during the year had risen from
£l2\ 1 5 J. to ;^355 IQi-.

At the Spring Assizes we had Baron Wood, a judge
who was remarkable for his popular feelings. He was
praised by some of our Radicals for being always against
the Church and King. In one case he exhibited a very
strong moral feeling, which perhaps betrayed him to an
excess. He had a very honourable dislike to prosecu-
tions or actions on the game laws, and this led him to
make use of a strong expedient to defeat two actions.
A and B had gone out sporting together. The plaintiff
brought two actions, and in the action against B called
A to prove the sporting by B, and meant to call B to
prove the case against A. This was apparent — indeed
avowed. But the Baron interposed, when the witness
objected to answer a question that tended to convict
himself A squabble arising between the counsel, the
Baron said to the witness, " I do not ask you whether
you ever went out sporting with the defendant, because,
if I did, you would very properly refuse to answer. But
I ask you this : Except at a time when you might have
been sporting with the defendant, did you ever see him
sport .="'

* Written in 1850.

Rolfe, Lord Cranworth.

" Certainly not, my lord."

" Of course you did not."

Then the Baron laughed heartily, and nonsuited the
plaintiff. No motion was made to set this nonsuit
aside.

It was at the Summer Circuit that Rolfe made his first
appearance. He had been at the preceding Sessions.
I have a pleasure in recollecting that I at once foresaw
that he would become a distinguished man. In my
Diary I wrote, " Our new junior, Mr. Rolfe, made his
appearance. His manners are genteel ; his conversation
easy and sensible. He is a very acceptable companion,
but I fear a dangerous rival." And my brother asking
me who the new man was, I said, "I will venture to
predict that you will live to see that young man attain
a higher rank than any one you ever saw upon the
circuit." It is true he is not higher than Leblanc, who
was also a puisne judge, but Leblanc was never Solicitor-
General ; nor, probably, is Rolfe yet at the end of his
career. One day, when some one remarked, "Chris-
tianity is part and parcel of the law of the land," Rolfe
said to me, "Were you ever employed to draw an
indictment against a man for not loving his neighbour
as himself?"

Rolfe is, by universal repute, if not the very best, at
least one of the best judges on the Bench. He is
one of the few with whom I have kept up an
acquaintance.*

* Since writing the above, Baron Rolfe has verified my prediction more strik-
ingly by being created a peer, by the title of Lord Cranworth, and appointed
a Vice-Chancellor. Soon after his appointment, he called on me, and I dined
with him. I related to Lady Cranworth the anecdote given above, of my

Chap. i.
1816.

Rolfe.

Chief Baron Pollock.

Chap, i,

1816.

Old Bailey.

■Mrs.
Thelwall.

Hamond.

I was advised to attend the Old Bailey Sessions,
which I did several times this year; whether beyond
this time or not I cannot tell, but I know that it never
produced me a fee. And I should say I am glad it did
not, except that my not being employed shows that I
wanted both a certain kind of talent and a certain kind
of reputation. I was once invited by the Sheriffs to
dine with the Lord Mayor and the Judges. It was
the practice to ask by turns two or three men, both
at three and five o'clock. I know not whether this is
still done.*

In ^the autumn of this year died Mrs. Thelwall, for
whom I felt a very sincere respect. She was her
husband's good angel. Before she died he had become
acquainted with a Miss Boyle, who came to him as
a pupil to be quahfied for the stage. She failed
in that scheme, and ultimately became Thelwall's
wife, without any imputation on her character. She
is still living with her son, and is a Roman
Catholic.

During this year my acquaintance with Hamond
continued. I now became acquainted with his cousin
Miller, the clergyman, and I for the first time visited
his friend Pollock, now Lord Chief Baron. Hamond
went to France, having declined an offer by Serjeant
Rough, who would have taken him as his private

conversation with my brother, with which she was evidently pleased. Lady
Cranworth was the daughter of Mr. Carr, Solicitor to the Excise, whom I for-
merly used to visit, and ought soon to find some mention of in my journals.
Lord Cranworth continues to enjoy universal respect. — H. C. R. 1851.

Lord and Lady Cranworth continued their friendship for H. C. R. until his
death. Lord Cranworth was twice Lord Chancellor.

• It is.

Haniond.

secretary to Demerara. He assigned as a reason
that he should be forced to Hve in the daily
practice of insincerity, by subscribing himself the
humble servant of those towards whom he felt no
humility.

Chap. t.

1816.

Prints by Milller.

Chap. ii.
;8i7.

Mrs. A bop.

A present of
prints.

CHAPTER II.

1817.

February $th. — I had to-day the pleasure of being
reminded of old times, and of having old enjoyments
brought back to my mind. I saw for the first time
Mrs. Alsop, Mrs. Jordan's daughter, the plainest
woman, I should think, who ever ventured on the stage.
She, nevertheless, delighted me by the sweet tones of
her voice, which frequently startled me by their re-
semblance to her mother's. Mrs. Alsop has the same,
or nearly the same, hearty laugh as Mrs. Jordan, and
similar frolicsome antics. The play was a lively Spanish
comedy. How I should have enjoyed her acting, if I
had not recollected her mother, I cannot tell.

February %th. — On stepping to my chambers I was
surprised by finding there, handsomely framed and
glazed, prints of Domenichino's " St. John the Evan-
gelist,"* and of the "Madonna di S. Sisto," by Mullen
The latter engraving delighted me beyond expression.
As I considered the original painting the finest I had

* The original picture of the inspired Evangelist about to write, and the
eagle bringing him the pen, from which Christian Frederich Miiller took his
engraving, was formerly at Stuttgart, in the Frommann Collection, and is now
the property of Prince Narischkin, in St. Petersburg. There is an excellent
repetition of this picture (formerly in the Orleans Gallery) at Castle Howard,
belonging to the Earl of Carlisle.

Baron Graham.

ever seen, twelve years ago, so I deem the print the
very finest I ever saw.

February nth. — I called late on Aders. He in-
formed me that the fine engravings I found at my
chambers on Saturday are a present from Mr. Aldebert.
The Madonna diffuses a serenity and delight beyond
any work of art I am acquainted with. I hope it will
be my companion through life.* What a companion for
a man in prison ! I read at night a very ill-written
German book about Raphael by one Braun,-f- but which
will nevertheless assist me in acquiring the knowledge
about Raphael's works in general which I am anxious
to possess.

March nth. — (On Circuit at Aylesbury.) We dined
with Baron Graham, and the dinner was more agree-
able than any I ever had with any judge. The Baron was
very courteous and chatty. He seemed to enjoy talk-
ing about old times when he attended the Circuit as
counsel. It was, he said, forty years this spring since
he first attended the Circuit. " At that time," he said,
" there were three old Serjeants, Foster, Whitaker, and
Sayer. They did business very ill, so that Leblanc and
I soon got into business, almost on our first coming."
Whitaker, in particular, he spoke of as a man who
knew nothing of law — merely loved his joke. Foster
did know law, but could not speak. He spoke of
Leblanc in terms of great praise. He had the most
business-like mind of any man he ever knew. He was

* These engravings hung on Mr. Robinson's walls till his death, and were
left a legacy to a friend greatly attached to art.

t George Christian Braun. Raphael's " Leben und Wirken." Wiesbaden,
8vo. 1815.

Chap. ii.
1817.

Mailer's
engraving

of the
Madonna
di S. Sisto.

Baron
Graham.

The

counsel on

Circuit in

1777.

Penalties for not attending Chnrch.

Chap. ii.
1817.

George
Harding.

Suit for
non-
attendance
at church.

exceedingly attentive and laborious. He regularly-
analyzed every brief in the margin. He had pursued
the habit through life. He talked a good deal about
the late George Harding. He said he came into life
under auspices so favourable, and he possessed so great
talent, that with ordinary discretion and industry he
might have attained the highest honours of the pro-
fession. He was an eloquent speaker and a fine scholar,
but a child in legal knowledge. He would cram him-
self to make a set speech, and he would succeed, but
in a week's time be unable to state even the principles
on which the case turned. He was nephew to Lord
Camden, then very popular, and his uncle expected
everything from his nephew. He had therefore great
business at once ; but the best clients soon left him.
" And," said the Baron, " we must draw a veil over his
latter years."

Friday, 14///!. — (At Bedford.) Only one case was inte-
resting. It was a Qui tam action by Dr. Free, rector of
Sutton, against Sir Montague Burgoyne, Bart., the squire
of the parish, to recover ;£'20 a month for Sir Montague's
not going to church. This was founded on one of the
ancient and forgotten statutes, unrepealed in fact, but
rendered inoperative by the improved spirit of the age.
Jameson prosecuted, and he was not sufficiently master
of himself to give any effect or spirit to his case. In
a hurried manner he stated the law and the facts.
He proved the Defendant's non-attendance at church.
Blosset made for Sir Montague a good and impressive
speech. Unluckily he bad a good case on the facts, so
that the most interesting question as to the existence of

A Methodist Client.

the act itself was evaded. He proved that during many
of the months there was no service in the church, it
being shut up, and that the Defendant was ill during
the rest of the time ; so that on the merits he had
a verdict.

Rem* — Baron Graham was fidgetty, and asked
Serjeant Blosset whether the act was not repealed by
the Toleration Act. " My client," said the Serjeant,
" would rather be convicted than thought to be a Dis-
senter, "-f- It appeared that, to make assurance doubly
sure, the Bishop's Chaplain was in court, with the
Bishop's written declaration that the Defendant, if he
had offended, was reconciled to the Church. If this
declaration were presented, after verdict and before
judgment, no judgment would be entered up. A few
years ago, Sir Edward Ryan being one of a commission
to report on the penal laws in matters of religion, I
mentioned this case to him, and it is noticed in the
report. Parson Free was, after much litigation, and a
great expense to the Bishop of London, deprived of his
living for immorality. His case illustrated the fact
that, while Bishops have, perhaps, too much power over
curates, they have certainly too little over the holders
of livings.

April Sth.— {At Bury.) A Mr. P , a Methodist

preacher, called to consult with me on account of an in-
terruption which took place while preaching at Woolpit.

* Written in 1851.

t The Toleration Act, i William and Mary, Chap. XVIII, Sec. 16, con-
tinued the old penalties for non-attendance at Divine Service on the Lord's
Day, unless for the sake of attending some place of worship to which that Act
gives toleration.

Chap. ii.
1817.

Saving Grace — is it to all Men f

Chap, ii,
1817.

VVesleyans

notions of

Grace,

Lawrence s
picture of

the
Pattissons.

Southey,

After this business subject had been discussed, we talked
on religious matters, and I questioned Mr. P con-
cerning the Arminian notion about Grace. I could not
quite comprehend Pascal's letters on the doctrine of

Grace siiffisante and Grace efficace. Nor did Mr, P

relieve me from the difficulties entertained on the sub-
ject. The Wesleyan Methodists, it seems, maintain
that a measure of Grace is given to all men ; but since
all men do not avail themselves of this, I inquired why

not. Mr. P answered they were not disposed. On

my asking what gave the disposition, he replied, " God's
influence." — " That, then," said I, " must be Grace." —
" Certainly." — " Then it seems God gives a measure of
grace to all men, and to some an additional portion,
without which the common measure is of no use ! " He
could not parry the blow. This common measure is
a subterfuge, to escape the obvious objections to the
Calvinistic notion of election and reprobation, but
nothing is gained by it. The difficulty is shoved off,
not removed.

April loth. — (Witham.) I spent the forenoon with
Mrs. Pattisson, reading to her Pope's " Ethical Epistles,"
which were new to her, and which she enjoyed exceed-
ingly. We had much to talk about besides. Sir Thomas
Lawrence had given great delight to Mr. and Mrs. Pat-
tisson, by informing them that the picture of the boys
was at length gone, after a delay of six years, to the
Exhibition.*

May 2nd. — I went in the forenoon into B. R.,f West-
minster. After my return I had a call from Robert

* See Vol. I. p. 343. t King's Bench.

Southey. — Wat Tyler.

Southey, the Laureate. I had a pleasant chat and a
short walk with him. He spoke gaily of his "Wat
Tyler." He understood 36,000 copies had been printed.*
He was not aware how popular he was when he came
to town. He did not appear to feel any shame or
regret at^ having written the piece at so early an age as
twenty. He wrote the drama in three mornings, anno
1794. We spoke of his letter to W. Smith,-}- of which I
thought and spoke favourably. I did not blame Southey,
but commended him, for asserting the right of all men,
who are wiser at forty than at twenty years of age, to
act on such superiority of wisdom. " I only wish," I
added, " that you had not appeared to have forgotten
some political truths you had been early impressed with.
Had you said, * It is the people who want reform as well
as the Government,' instead of * not the Government,' I
should have been content." Southey answered, " I spoke
of the present time only. I am still a friend to Reform."
May 8///. — I went into the King's Bench. There I
heard the news which had set all Westminster Hall in
motion. Gifford has been appointed Solicitor-General.]:
Gifford's father was a Presbyterian grocer at Exeter.
He was himself articled to an attorney, and was never
at a university. He was formerly a warm Burdettite !

* The original edition was published in 1794. The edition referred to is
doubtless the one published by Sherwood, in 1817, "with a preface suitable to
recent circumstances." Against this edition Southey applied for an injunction,
but Lord Eldon refused to grant it, the tendency of the work being mischiev-
ous.— Lowndes' " Bibliographer's Manual."

t This letter was a reply to remarks by W. Smith, in the House of Com-
mons, on " Wat Tyler," and is intended as a vindication of the authors right
to change his opinions.

t Afterwards Lord Gifford, and Master of the Rolls.

VOL. IL E

Chap. it.
1817.

Giford.

Treason Trials. — Watson.

Chap. ii.
1817.

The

Spa-Fields

rioters.

On the other hand, I believe he has long abandoned the
conventicle, and has been quiet on political subjects, if
he has not changed his opinions. He is patronized by
Gibbs. Both are natives of Exeter.

My only concern is that a man hitherto universally
beloved should thus early in life be in danger of making
bankrupt of his conscience, which Lord Bacon says has
been the fate of so many who have accepted the offices
of Attorney-General and Solicitor-General.

May lyth. — Another uncomfortable forenoon. It was
rendered interesting by the arraignment of Watson and
three other men brought up to plead to a charge of
high treason for the Spa-Fields Riots.* Watson has a
face much resembling Serjeant Copley's in profile. The
other three men, Preston, Hooper, and Thistlethwaite,
had countenances of an ordinary stamp. All of them,
on being arraigned, spoke like men of firmness and with
the air of public orators — a sort of foriimizing tone and
manner, I was made melancholy by the sight of so
many persons doomed probably to a violent death
within a few weeks. They did not require counsel to be
assigned them in court. Watson inquired whether they
might speak for themselves if they had counsel. Lord
Ellenborough answered : " You are not deprived of the
power of addressing the court by having counsel as-
signed you," — rather an ambiguous answer. On enter-

* In 1816 meetings were held in Spa Fields to petition the Prince in behalf
of the distressed manufacturing classes. The first meeting was held on the
15th November : thirty thousand persons were said to be present. After the
second meeting, held December 2nd, what was called the Spa- Fields riot took
place ; gunsmiths' shops were broken into to procure arms. In one of the
shops, a Mr. Piatt was seriously wounded. The riot was quelled by the
military, but not before considerable damage had been done.

William Hone.

ing the court, the prisoners, who had been separated
for some time, shook hands with each other in an
affecting manner, their hands being below the bar, and
they seemed to do it as by stealth. All but Preston
seemed unconcerned.

There was a comic scene also exhibited. One Hone,*
of Fleet Street, was brought up at his own suggestion.
He moved to be discharged on the ground of ill-
treatment on his arrest. One ground of his motion
was, that on the commitment it was said he had prayed
an imparlance to next Term to plead. He put in an
affidavit that he had done no such thing. Lord Ellen-
borough said that his refusal to plead was a constructive
demand of time. He was again asked whether he
would plead, and refused. He was remanded. Shep-
herd appeared for the first time as Attorney-General on
this occasion.

May i()th. — I devoted the forenoon to the Nashes,
It being the last day of Term, I felt no obligation to
attend in court. I went into the British Museum.
For the first time I saw there the Elgin Marbles. Mr.
Nash, with his characteristic simplicity, exclaimed, "I
would as soon go into a church pit ! " Indeed, how few
are there who ought not to say so, if men ought on
such subjects to avow their want of feeling ! It requires
science and a habit of attention to subdue the first
impression produced by the battered and mutilated con-
dition in which most of these celebrated fragments
remain. Of the workmanship I can understand nothing.

* The bookseller, whose trial by Lord Ellenborough will be referred to here-
after.

E 2

Chap. ii.
1817.

Hone.

The Elptt
Marbles,

Mrs. Barbaidd. — Thekvall married.

Chap. ii.

1817.

Mrs.
Barbauld.

State trials
of Watson
and others.

Wetherell.

Castle, the
informer.

The sentiment produced by the sight of such posthu-
mous discoveries is, however, very gratifying.

May 26th. — After dining at the CoUiers' I walked to
Newington, and took tea with Mrs, Barbauld. I found
that Dr. Aikin had been very seriously ill. Mrs,
Barbauld herself retains her health and faculties, and is
an interesting instance of a respected and happy old
age. I played chess with her, and then went to Becher
late.

Tuesday, 2yth. — I spent the forenoon at home, and I
made one or two calls. On Thelwall ; for, though I
could not cordially congratulate him on a marriage to
a girl scarcely twenty (he being perhaps sixty), yet I
thought I might, without impropriety, do an act of
courtesy. I found him well, his bride but poorly. She
looked more interesting as an invalid ; and as her
manners were retiring she pleased me better than when
I saw her as Miss Boyle — a candidate for the stage.

June ()th. — The high-treason trials of Watson and
others, for the Spa- Fields transactions, began to-day,

nth. — To-day Castle, the Government informer, was
examined seven and a half hours by Gurney,

I2th. — This day I was again in court from past eight
till near seven, excepting dinner-time. The principal
interest to-day arose from the cross-examination of
Castle by Wetherell,* from which it resulted that he had
been guilty of uttering forged notes, and had, as King's
evidence, hanged one accomplice and transported
another, though the latter pleaded guilty. He had
been concerned in setting at liberty some French

* Afterwards Sir Charles Wetherell, Attorney-General.

Treason Trials. — Wet her ell.

officers, to which business he was recommended by a
person he had visited in Tothill Fields prison, and who
has since been hanged. There were other things against
him. So absolutely infamous a witness I never heard
of. It appeared, too, from his own statement, that he
was the principal actor in this business throughout. He
was the plotter and contriver of most of the overt acts,
and the whole conspiracy was his. It also appeared
that he was furnished with pocket-money by Mr.
Stafford, the Bow Street office clerk ; and Mr. Stafford
also gave him money to send away his wife, who might
have been a witness to confirm his testimony. This
latter disgraceful fact, I have no doubt, weighed greatly
with the jury.

yune I'^th. — This day, like the preceding, I passed in
court, from a little after eight till near six ; and I could
get no dinner, as Wetherell was speaking for the
prisoner Watson. Wetherell's speech was vehement
and irregular, and very unequal, with occasional bursts
of eloquence that produced a great effect. But the
reasoning was very loose ; he rambled sadly, and his
boldness wanted discretion and propriety. He kept on
his legs five hours and a half; but my attention could
not follow him throughout, and the latter half-hour I
was away, for an interesting engagement forced me to
leave the court before six o'clock.

I dined at Mr. Green's, No. 22, Lincoln's Inn Fields.*

* Joseph Henry Green, the eminent surgeon. He was the intimate friend of
Coleridge. In 1818 he became associated with Sir Astley Cooper as Lecturer
at St. Thomas's Hospital, and was for many years Professor and Lecturer on
Anatomy at the Royal Academy of Arts, both at Somerset House and in
Trafalgar Square. In 1840 and 1847 he delivered the Hunterian oration. His

Chap. ii.
1817.

7.fi.

Green.

Ludzvis:: Tieck.

Chap. ii.
1817.

L. Tieck.

Coleridge and Ludwig Tieck were of the party. It
was an afternoon and evening of very high pleasure
indeed.

Ludwig Tieck has not a prepossessing exterior. He
has a shrewd clever face, but I should rather have
thought him an able man of the world than a romantic
poet. He was not the greatest talker to-day ; indeed,
the course of the conversation led others to give him
information, but what he did say was sensible and
judicious. Coleridge was not in his element. His
German was not good, and his English was not free.
He feared he should not be understood if he talked his
best. His eloquence was, therefore, constrained,

Tieck's journey to England is undertaken with a view
to the study of our old English dramatists, contem-
poraries of Shakespeare.* He incidentally gave opinions
of our elder poets more favourable than I expected.
He estimates them highly, as it seems.

June i^th. — After a fortnight's delay, I shall be able
to say but little of these days, though they were in part
highly interesting. To-day I spent almost entirely in

portrait hung over the chimney-piece in Coleridge's bedroom at Highgate, and
I remember seeing it there when I went with my father to see the room after
Coleridge's death. My father made an elaborate drawing of the room, which
was afterwards lithographed. J. H, Green died 1863, December 13th; aged
71, at Hadley, near Bamet.— G. S. Vide also Diary, April 14th, 1847.

* Before this visit to England Tieck had written " Briefen uber Shake-
speare" (Letters about Shakespeare), in the " Poetisches Journal," 1800, and
various articles about him in the " Altenglisches Theater," 1811 (Old-English
Theatre). After the visit he published the following works : " Shakespeare's
Vorschule" (Shakespeare's Predecessors), 1823-29; notices of Shakespeare, in
his " Dramatische Blatter" (Dramatic Leaves), 1828 ; a novel called " Dichter-
leben " (The Life of a Poet), in which Shakespeare is introduced ; a treatise on
Shakespeare's sonnets, 1826; and, in company with A. W. Schlegel, the
famous German translation of Shakespeare, 1825-29,

Treason Trials.

court. It was the most interesting day of Watson's
trial. I heard Copley's and Gifford's speeches. Copley
spoke with great effect, but with very little eloquence.
He spoke for about two and a half hours, and sat down
with universal approbation. He said nothing that was
not to the purpose. There were no idle or superfluous
passages in his speech. He dwelt little on the law, and
that was not very good ; but his analysis of the evidence
of Castle against Watson was quite masterly.

The young Solicitor-General followed him. Opinions
were divided about him. I believe envy at his recent
appointment contributed to the unfavourable judgments
of some men. He certainly began too verbosely, and
dwelt injudiciously on unimportant points, but I
thought him very acute and able in the latter part
of his speech. Yet both Gifford and Copley had less
eloquence than Wetherell in the better parts of his
speech.

June i6th. — I allowed myself some relief from the
trial this morning. I attended, at the auction mart, the
sale of chambers, No. 5 King's Bench Walk, first floor,
for a life and assignment. They sold for 1,355 guineas,
and it would have cost me, to substitute my life for that
of the present cestui que vie, more than ^100 more ; I,
therefore, declined bidding, though the chambers are so
good, and mine are so bad, that I felt great reluctance
at the inability to purchase.

When I went down to Westminster Hall, the
jury were out of court deliberating on their ver-
dict. The second time I went with the Naylors. We
met many people in St. Martin's Lane. Their silence

Chap. ii.

1817.

Copley and
Gifford,

Opening of Waterloo Bridge.

Chap. ii.

1817.

The
acquittal.

Waterloo

Bridge

opened.

led me to augur ill till a drunken fellow shouted out,
" England's glory for ever ! " We soon ascertained the
fact that an acquittal had taken place. There were
crowds in the street, but quite peaceable. At West-
minster Hall, I saw old Combe, Barnes, &c. Every one
was pleased, apparently. I afterwards met the mob
round a hackney coach in which Watson was. I
called on Walter and on Collier, and I played chess
late.

June \%th. — I went to the King's Bench, The three
other indicted men were brought up and acquitted, no
evidence being given against them. I came away early,
and then went into the Middle Temple Garden to see
the Waterloo Bridge procession.* The sight was inte-
resting. Vast crowds were visible on the bridge and
near it, on the Surrey shore. Flags were hoisted over
every pier, and guns discharged on the approach of the
royal barges. Several of these barges, with a number of
boats forming no part of the ceremony, and yet giving it
interest, were on the Thames. These royal barges were
rowed round a frigate's boat, on which were flags and
music. The great personages present, the Prince, Duke
of Wellington, &c., ascended the bridge on the Surrey
side, and crossed over ; but this we could not see.

I spent the evening in writing a dull review of
Coleridge's second Lay Sermon for the Critical
Review.\

* Constable chose this subject for a picture, which was engraved,
t The Critical Review, June 1817, p. 581.

Coleridge on Soiithey and Frere.

COLERIDaE TO H. C. R.

Juney 1 8 17.
My dear Robinson,

I shall never forgive you if you do not try to
make some arrangement to bring Mr. L. Tieck and
yourself up to Highgate very soon. The day, the
dinner-hour, you may appoint yourself; but what I
most wish would be, either that Mr, Tieck would come
in the first stage, so as either to walk or to be driven
in Mr. Oilman's gig to Caen Wood, and its delicious
groves and alleys (the finest in England, a grand cathe-
dral aisle of giant lime-trees, Pope's favourite compo-
sition walk when with the old Earl, a brother rogue of
yours in the law line), or else to come up to dinner,
sleep here, and return (if then return he must) in the
afternoon four o'clock stage the day after. I should be
most happy to make him and that admirable man, Mr.
Frere, acquainted, their pursuits have been so similar ;
and to convince Mr. Tieck that he is the man among
us in whom Taste at its maximum has vitalized itself
into productive power — Genius. You need only show
him the incomparable translation annexed to Southey's
" Cid " (which, by the by, would perhaps give Mr. Tieck
the most favourable impression of Southey's own powers);
and I would finish the work off by Mr. Frere's "Aristo-
phanes." In snch GOODNESS, too, as both my Mr.
Frere (the Right Hon. J. H. Frere), and his brother
George (the la\vyer in Brunswick Square), live, move,

and have their being in, there is Genins

I have read two pages of " Lalla Rookh," or whatever
it is called. Merciful Heaven ! I dare read no more.

Chap. ii.
1817.

Coleridge

on Caen-

Wood.

Southey f
Cid.

Frere's
Aristo-
phanes.

Lalla
Rookh.

Coleridge on T. Moore.

Chap. ii.
1 8 17.

The posses-
sive case.

Man/red.

that I may be able to answer at once to any questions,
" I have but just looked at the work." Oh, Robinson !
if I could, or if I dared, act and feel as Moore and his
set do, what havoc could I not make amongst their
crockery-ware ! Why, there are not three lines together
without some adulteration of common English, and the
ever-recurring blunder of using the possessive case,
" compassion's tears, &c.," for the preposition " of " — a
blunder of which I have found no instances earlier
than Dryden's slovenly verses written for the trade.
The rule is, that the case 's is 2\yi2.y^ personal ; either it
marks a person, or a personification, or the relique of
some proverbial personification, as " Who for their
belly's sake," in " Lycidas," But for A to weep the
tears of B puts me in mind of the exquisite passage
in " Rabelais " where Pantagruel gives the page his cup,
and begs him to go down into the courtyard, and curse
and swear for him about half an hour or so,

God bless you !

S. T. Coleridge. -
Sunday Morning,
Highgate.

June 22nd. — I sat at home all the forenoon, in -ex-
pectation of a call from Tieck. He did not come, so
that between one and two I walked to Dalston. The
day was not so oppressively hot as it was yesterday,
though still the heat was very unusual. After dinner I
read Lord Byron's " Manfred " to Mrs, Becher and Miss
Lewis. I had occupied myself during the forenoon in
writing a critique on this painful poem, which neverthe-

Party with Coleridge at Highgate.

Coleridge
and Ticck.

less has passages of great beauty. The ladies would Chap. h.
have been greatly delighted with it, I dare say, if I had 1817,
encouraged their admiration,

June 2^t/L — This was a highly interesting day, of
which, however, I have not recollected enough to render
this note of any interest. I accompanied Ludwig Tieck
and Mr. Green in the stage to Kentish Town, whence
we walked to Highgate, where we found Coleridge ex-
pecting us. Mr. Oilman joined our party, and the fore-
noon till four was spent very agreeably indeed. We
chatted miscellaneously. Coleridge read some of his
own poems, and he and Tieck philosophized. Coleridge
talked most. Tieck is a good listener, and is an un-
obtrusive man. He cannot but know his own worth
and excellence, but he has no anxiety to make himself
and his own works the subject of conversation. He is
by no means a zealous Roman Catholic. On the con-
trary, he says, " With intolerant persons of either party,
I take the opposite side." I ventured to suggest the
incompatibility of the Catholic religion with any great Ticck on

Catho-

improvement. He said it was difficult to decide on Udsin.
questions of national character. ■ Without the Catholic
religion, the people in Catholic countries would be
worse. He thought the Spaniards owed their deliver-
ance from the French to their religion. At the same
time he admitted that England owes all her greatness
and excellence to the Reformation ; and the existence
of the Catholic system as such requires the existence of
Protestantism. This is a very harmless Catholicism.

He spoke with great love of Goethe, yet censured the
impious Prologue to " Faust," and wishes an English

Talma.

Chap. ii.
1817.

S. Rogers

on
Flaxman.

Talma.

translation might be made from the earlier edition
written in Goethe's youth. He does not speak kindly
of Voss. Of the Schlegels he did not say much. He
does not like Flaxman's Lord Mansfield, but appears to
entertain a high opinion of him still. (By the by, sitting
near Sam Rogers on Talma's night at the Opera
House, and mentioning Flaxman, Rogers said that
Canova seemed not very willing to praise Flaxman,
saying his designs were " pretty inventions." " Inven-
tion," said Rogers, " is precisely what Canova wants."^

Coleridge related anecdotes of himself in Germany
very pleasantly indeed.

June 26th. — This was another idle day. I called on
Tieck, and chatted with him about his tour in England,
and went to the Westminster Library for books to assist
him in travelling. I also conversed with Baron Burgs-
dorf, a sensible man, who is anxious to obtain informa-
tion about our English courts of justice. I dined in the
Hall, and after dinner Talfourd chatted with me. I
took a hasty cup of tea at the Colliers', and at nine I
went to the Opera House Concert Room, and heard
Talma and Mdlle. Georges recite. I grudged a guinea
for payment, but I do not regret having gone.

Talma performed a scene out of La Harpe's
" Philoct^te," and out of "Iphigenia in Tauris." His
first appearance disappointed me. He has little grey
eyes, too near each other, and, though a regular and
good. face, not a very striking one. His voice is good,
but not peculiarly sweet. His excellence lies in the
imitation of intense suffering. He filled me with
horror, certainly, as Philoctete, but it was mingled with

Mademoiselle Georges.

disgust. Bodily pain is no fit or legitimate subject for
the drama ; and too often he was merely a man suffer-
ing from a sore leg. Of his declamation I do not pre-
sume to judge. The character of Orestes affords finer
opportunities of display. The terror he feels when
pursued by the Furies was powerfully communicated,
and his tenderness towards Pylades on parting was also
exquisite. Mdlle. Georges had more to do, but she gave
me far less pleasure. Her acting I thought radically
bad. Instead of copying nature in the expression of
passion, according to which the master feeling predom-
inates over all the others, she merely minces the words.
If in the same line the words crainte 2S\A joie occur, she
apes fear and joy by outrageous pantomime ; and in
the suddenness of the transition forces applause from
those who are glad to understand something, and grate-
fully applaud what has enabled them to understand.
Her acting appeared to me utterly without feeling.
She pleased me best in " Athalie," — the scene where she
recounts the dream and first appearance of Joad. Her
imprecations against Horace for slaying her lover were,
I thought, violent without being sincere ; and her per-
formance of the sleep-walking scene in " Macbeth " was
very poor. In the French play, Macbeth keeps in con-
finement a son of Duncan, and Lady Macbeth is con-
templating his murder as well as the former murders
she had committed, by which the fine moral taught by
Shakespeare is quite lost. But the French author
could not conceive, I dare say, why a successful
murder of former days should excite any remorse or
anxiety.

Chap. ii.
1817.

Mdlle.
Georges.

Home Tooke.

Chap. ii.
1817,

Home
Tooke and

his

schoolboy

philosophy.

Tteck.

Tieck's

opinion o?t

English

poetry.

I chatted with Rogers the poet. He informs me that
Madame de Stael is considered in great danger.

June 28//?. — At six I dined with Pollock.* A genteel
dinner-party. Coleridge, Mr. and Mrs. John Ray,
&c. The afternoon went off exceedingly well. An
anecdote was told of Home Tooke, very characteristic
and probable. At school, he was asked why he put a
word in some case or mood, and answered, " I do not
know," for which he was instantly flogged. Another
boy was then asked, who repeated the grammatical rule,
and took his place in the class. On this Tooke cried.
His master asked him what he meant, and Tooke said,
" I knew the rule as well as he did, but you did not ask
for the rule, but the reason. You asked why it is so,
and I do not know that now." The master is said to
have taken him aside and given him a Virgil in memory
of the injustice done him, of which Virgil Tooke was
very proud.

I went late to Tieck, and chatted some time about
the books, &c., he had still to buy.

Jtme 2C)t]i. — I had more conversation with Tieck this
evening than before on general literary subjects. He
is well read in the English dramatic literature, having
read all the English plays which were accessible in
Germany ; and he has a decision of opinion which one
wonders at in a foreigner. He has no high opinion of
Coleridge's critique, but he says he has learned a great
deal from Coleridge, who has glorious conceptions about
Shakespeare (Jierrliche Idem). Coleridge's conversation
he very much admires, and thinks it superior to any of

* Afterwards Chief Baron.

Tieck on Ens'lish Poets.

his writings. But he says there is much high poetry in
" Christabel." He thinks well of the remarks on language
in Lord Ched worth's book about Shakespeare,* and that
Strutt's remarks are acute. Of Ben Jonson he thinks
highly. The pieces he distinguished were " Bartholomew
Fair" (perhaps his best piece), "The Devil is an Ass,"
"The Alchymist," "The Fox," "The Silent Woman,"
&c. He says his work on Shakespeare will be minute
as to the language, which, he thinks, underwent changes.
Of German literature he does not speak promisingly.
The popular writers (such as Fouque) he despises, and
he says that unhappily there have sprung up a number
of imitators of himself. He praises Solger's work-f- very
much, and he is the only recent writer whom he men-
tioned. Of Goethe he spoke with less enthusiasm than
I expected, but with as much as he ought, perhaps.
The want of religion in Goethe is a great scandal to
Tieck, I have no doubt. His later writings, Tieck
thinks, are somewhat loquacious.

Rem.\ — This summer I made my second visit to
Paris. Of places I shall write nothing, but a few per-
sonal incidents may be mentioned.

I undertook to escort my sister, who had a companion
in Esther Nash. And my nephew was the fourth to fill
the carriage which we hired at Calais. My brothers
crossed the water with us. We slept at Dover on the

* " Notes upon some of the Obscure Passages in Shakespeare's Plays. By
the late Right Hon. John Lord Chedworth. London, 1805. Privately printed."

t " Envin, vier Gesprache Uber das Schiine und die Kunst" (Four Conver-
sations on the Beautiful and Art), 1815. A more systematic work by him,
entitled " Vorlesungen uber die ^Esthetik" (Lectures on ^^thetics), 1829, was
published after his death.

t Written in 1851.

Chap. 11.

1817.

yourney to
Paris.

Ai Paris. — Athanase Coqiierel.

Chap. ii.
1817.

Coquerel.

15th of August, and reached Paris on the 21st, — six
days on the road. Last year I left Paris after a com-
fortable breakfast, and slept at Dover ; my travelling
companion, however, reached London the same night,
and would have gone to a ball, if he had not un-
expectedly found his family at home.

At Paris were then dwelling, under the care of the
celebrated Madame Campan, the two Miss Hutchisons,
who accompanied us repeatedly in our sight-seeings.
To the youngest my nephew was then betrothed. We
were at the Hotel Valois, Rue Richelieu, from whence
we issued daily to see the well-known sights of Paris.
Our acquaintances were not numerous. The ladies
knew Miss Benger, with whom was Miss Clarke, and
were glad to be introduced to Helen Maria Williams.*
Her nephews were then become young men, — at least
the elder, Coquerel, now the eloquent and popular
preacher, and a distinguished member of the House
of Representatives. He has managed to retain his
post of preacher at the Oratoire. His theology was
then sufficiently pronounced, and indicated what has
been since made public. There was a manifest dis-
inclination to enter on matters of controversy, and he
had the authority of his own Church to justify him.
He informed me of the commands issued by the
ecclesiastical council of the once too orthodox Church

* Mr. Robinson had been introduced to Miss Williams by Mrs. Clarkson in
1814. Miss Williams wrote several works in connection with the political state
of France, as a Republic and as an Empire. She also wrote a novel called
"Julia," "A Tour in Switzerland," " Miscellaneous Poems," and " Poems on
various Occasions." During her residence in Paris, which extended over many
years, she was, by Robespierre, confined for some time in the Temple.

Life in Paris during the Revolution.

of Geneva, and addressed to the clergy, to abstain from
preaching on the Trinity, Eternity of Hell, Corruption
of Human Nature, and Original Sin, between which last
two doctrines French theologians make a distinction.

Professor Froriep of Weimar was then at Paris. He
introduced me to a remarkable man — Count Schla-
berndorf, about seventy years of age, a Prussian sub-
ject, a cynic in his habits, though stately in figure and
gentlemanly in his air. He was residing in a very
dirty apartment in the third floor of the Hotel des
Siciles, Rue Richelieu. His hands and face were clean,
but his dress, consisting of a bedgown of shot satin of
a dark colour, was very dirty. He had a grey beard,
with bushy hair, mild eyes, handsome nose, and lips hid
by whiskers. He came to France at the beginning of
the Revolution ; was in prison during the Reign of
Terror, and escaped. That he might not be talked
about, he lived on almost nothing. On my answering
his French in German, he replied with pleasure, and
talked very freely. His vivacity was very agreeable,
and without any introduction he burst at once upon the
great social questions of the age. In my journal I
wrote, — " He comes nearer my idea of Socrates than
any man I ever saw, except that I think Socrates
would not have dressed himself otherwise than his
fellow-citizens did." He spoke of his first arrival in
France. " I used to say," he said, " I was a republican,
and then there were no republics. The Revolution
came, and then I said, ' There are republics, and no
republicans.' " I asked him how he came to be arrested.
He said, " On the denunciation of a political fanatic, a

VOL. II. F

Chap. ir.
1817.

Count

Schlabern-
dorf.

A Republic

•without
republicans.

Abbe Gregoire. — Janscnists.

Chap. ii.
1817.

Grigoire.

kind-hearted and very benevolent man. He probably
reasoned thus : * Why is this stranger and nobleman
here ? What has he done for which the Allies would
hang him ? He is therefore a suspicious character. If
he is guilty, he ought to be secured ; if he is a repub-
lican and innocent, he will be reconciled to a fate which
the public interest requires.' That was the logic of the
day. When I was arrested I had but 300 francs. It
was not safe to attempt getting any supply by means of
writing, so I lived on bread and boiled plums." Froriep
inquired why he did not return to Germany. He said,
" I should be made a centre of intrigues. I am a
reformer, but an enemy to revolutions." He meta-
physicized obscurely. Yet he distinguished fairly
enough between patriotism and nationality. He denied
the one, but allowed the other to the English aristo-
cracy, who would sell the liberties of the people to the
crown, but not the crown to a foreign power.

During my stay at Paris I renewed my acquaintance
with Gregoire.* He had been unjustly expelled from
the Legislative Body, on the ground that he had voted
for the death of Louis XVI. In fact, he voted him
guilty, but voted against the punishment of death in
any case, and that he should be the first spared under
the new law. No wonder that Louis XVIII. ordered
his name to be struck out of the list of members of the
Institute, and that he should be otherwise disgraced.
Without being one of the great men of the Revolution,
he was among the best of the popular party. He was
certainly a pious man, as all the Jansenists were, — the

* Vide 1 8 14, Vol. I. p. 440.

Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Methodists of the Cathohc Church, — with the inevitable
inconsistencies attached to all who try to reconcile
private judgment with obedience. He affirmed, as
indeed many Catholics do, that the use of actual water
was not indispensable to a saving baptism.

One of the most interesting circumstances of my
visit to Paris, was that I fell in with Hundleby,* who
became one of my most intimate friends. With him
and two other solicitors, Walton (a friend of Mas-
querier) and Andros, I made an excursion to Ermenon-
ville, where Rousseau died, — a wild forest-scene pre-
cisely suited to that unhappy but most splendid writer.

[Mr. Robinson returned from France on the 20th of
September, but visited Brighton, Arundel, and the Isle
of Wight after his return, and did not settle down in
London till the 4th of October.]

November 6th. — I went to Godwin's. Mr. Shelley
was there. I had never seen him before. His youth,
and a resemblance to Southey, particularly in his voice,
raised a pleasing impression, which was not altogether
destroyed by his conversation, though it is vehement,
and arrogant, and intolerant. He was very abusive
towards Southey, whom he spoke of as having sold
himself to the Court. And this he maintained with the
usual party slang. His pension and his Laureateship,
his early zeal and his recent virulence, are the proofs of
gross corruption. On every topic but that of violent
party feeling, the friends of Southey are under no diffi-

* He was partner of Alliston, and has been dead many years. His widow, a
daughter of a wealthy man, named Curtis, is now the wife of Mr. Tite, the
architect of the Exchange.— H. C. R., 1851. The Mr. Tite here referred to
is now Sir William Tite, M.P. for Bath.

. F 2

Chap. n.
1817.

Shelley.

Flaxman as disputant.

Chap. ii.
1817.

Flaxman s
dozmatisfit.

Death of

thf Princess

Charlotte.

Wager of

battle in a

trial for

murder.

Ashford

Thornton.

culty in defending him. Shelley spoke of Wordsworth
with less bitterness, but with an insinuation of his insin-
cerity, &c.

November ()th. — I dined with Mr. and Mrs. Flaxman,
making a fourth with Miss Denman. I enjoyed the
afternoon. Flaxman is a delightful man in the purity
and simplicity of his feelings and understanding, though
an uncomfortable opponent in disputation. I so much
fear to offend him, that I have a difficulty in being
sincere. I read extracts from Coleridge's poems. The
verses to the Duchess of Devonshire, in particular,
pleased him. Certainly Coleridge has shown that he
could be courteous and courtly without servility.

November i6th. — The death of the Princess Charlotte
has excited more general sorrow than I ever witnessed
raised by the death of a royal personage,

November lyth. — I witnessed to-day a scene which
would have been a reproach to Turkey, or the Emperor
of Dahomey — a wager of battle in Westminster Hall.
Thornton was brought up for trial on an appeal after
acquittal for murder.* No one seemed to have any
doubt of the prisoner's guilt ; but he escaped owing to
the unfitness of a profound real-property lawyer to
manage a criminal trial. For this reason the public
sense was not offended by recourse being had to an
obsolete proceeding. The court was crowded to
excess. Lord Ellenborough asked Reader whether
he had anything to move, and he having moved that

• An appeal of murder was a criminal prosecution at the suit of the next-of-
kin to the person killed, independently of any prosecution by the Crown, and
might take place, as in this case, after an acquittal. The word "appeal,"
however, has in this usage no reference to former proceedings.

Last Wager of Battle.

Thornton should be permitted to plead, he was brought
to the bar. The declaration, or count, being read to him,
he said, " Not Guilty. And this I am ready to defend
with my body." At the same time he threw a large glove
or gauntlet on to the floor of the court. Though we all
expected this plea, yet we all felt astonishment — at least
I did — at beholding before our eyes a scene acted which
we had read of as one of the disgraceful institutions of
our half-civilized ancestors. No one smiled. The judges
looked embarrassed. Clarke on this began a very weak
speech. He was surprised, "at this time of day," at so
obsolete a proceeding ; as if the appeal itself were not as
much so. He pointed out the person of Ashford, the
appellant, and thought the court would not award battle
between men of such disproportionate strength. But
being asked whether he had any authority for such a
position, he had no better reply than that it was shock-
ing, because the defendant had murdered the sister,
that he should then murder the brother. For which
Lord Ellenborough justly reproved him, by observing
that what the law sanctioned could not be murder.
Time was, however, given him to counter-plead, and
Reader judiciously said in a single sentence, that he had
taken on himself to advise the wager of battle, on
account of the prejudices against Thornton, by which a
fair trial was rendered impossible.

Rem* — The appellant, in the following Term, set out
all the evidence in replication, it being the ancient law
that, when that leaves no doubt, the wager may be
decHned. Hence a very long succession of pleading,

* Written in 1851.

Chap. ii.
1817.

Mrs. Barbauld.

Chap. ii.
i8r7.

Mrs,
Barbauld.

during which Thornton remained in prison. The court
ought probably, according to the old law, to . have
ordered battle, and if the appellant refused, awarded
that he should be hanged. To relieve the court and
country from such monstrosities, the judgment was post-
poned, and an Act of Parliament passed to abolish both
the wager of battle and the appeal ; which some of my
Radical city friends thought a wrong proceeding, by
depriving the people of one of their means of protection
against a bad Government ; for the King cannot pardon
in appeal of murder, and the Ministry may contrive the
murder of a friend to liberty.

Tindal and Chitty argued the case very learnedly,
and much recondite and worthless black-letter and
French lore were lavished for the last time. This
recourse to an obsolete proceeding terminated in Thorn-
ton's acquittal.

November i()th. — This being the day of the funeral of
the Princess Charlotte, all the shops were shut, and the
churches everywhere filled with auditors.

November 2ird. — I walked to Newington, which I
reached in time to dine with Mrs. Barbauld. Mr. and
Mrs. Charles Aikin were there. The afternoon passed
off without any dulness or drowsiness. We had matter
for conversation in Mrs. Plumptre — a subject on which
I talk con amore, in^ the wager of battle, and in the
Princess's death.

November 2^th. — This was to me an- anxious day. I
had received from Naylor a brief to speak in mitigation
of punishment for one Williams, at Portsea, who had
sold in his shop two of the famous Parodies, one of the

TJie First Parody Prosecution.

Litany, in which the three estates, King, Lords, and
Commons, are addressed with some spirit and point on
the sufferings of the nation, and the -other of the Creed
of St. Athanasius, in which the Lord Chancellor, Lord
Castlereagh, and Lord Sidmouth are, with vulgar buf-
foonery, addressed as Old Bags, Derry-Down Triangle,
and the Doctor, and the triple Ministerial character
spoken of under the well-known form of words.

These parodies had been long overlooked by the late
Attorney-General, and he had been reproached for his
negligence by both Ministerialists and Oppositionists.
At length prosecutions were begun, and the subject was
talked of in Parliament. Hone and Carlile had both
been prosecuted, and by their outrageous conduct had
roused a strong sense of indignation against them.
Unhappily this poor Portsea printer was the first
brought up for judgment. Applications in his behalf
had been made to the Attorney-General, who did not
conduct the case with any apparent bitterness. In his
opening speech on the Litany, he with considerable
feeling, though in a commonplace way, eulogized the
Litany, but he admitted to a certain extent the circum-
stances of mitigation in defendant's affidavit, viz. that
he had destroyed all the copies he could, after he had
heard of the prosecution.

I then addressed the Court, saying that the Attorney-
General's speech was calculated to depress a man more
accustomed to address the Court than I was ; but that
I thought it appeared, even from the Attorney-General's
own words, that there were no circumstances of aggra-
vation arisinsf out of the manner in which the crime

Chap, ii,
1817.

The Paro-
dies, and
Government
prosecution
of Hone,
b'c.

H. C. R!s Speech in Mitigation for Williams.

Chap. ir.
1817.

Examiner

oti H.C.R.'s

speech.

was committed. I then dwelt, and I believe impres-
sively, on the hardship of the case for the defendant,
who, though the least guilty, was the first brought up for
punishment, and deprecated the infliction of an exem-
plary punishment on him. This was the best part of
my speech, I then repeated and enforced the ordinary
topics of mitigation.

The Attorney-General then brought on the Creed
information, and was rather more bitter than at first,
and he was followed by Topping.

I replied, and spoke not so well as at first, and was
led, by an interruption from Bayley, to observe on the
Athanasian Creed, that many believed in the doctrine
who did not approve of the commentary. At least my
remarks on the Creed were sanctioned by the judgment,
which sentenced the defendant, for the Litany, to
eight months' imprisonment in Winchester Gaol, and
a fine of ;^iOO, and for the Creed to four months'
imprisonment.

I stayed in court the rest of the afternoon, and at
half-past four dined with Gurney. No one but Godfrey
Sykes, the pleader, was there. He is an open-hearted
frank fellow in his manner, and I felt kindly towards
him on account of the warm praise which he gave to
my friend Manning, and of the enthusiasm with which
he spoke of Gifford.

December ird. — Hamond called and chatted on law
with me. I walked home with him. He lent me the
last Examiner. In the account of my law case, there
is a piece of malice. They have put in italics, "Mr.
Robinson was ready to agree with his Lordship to the

Wordsworth in Town.

fullest extent ; " and certainly this is the part of my
speech which I most regret, for I ought to have observed
to the Court, that the libel is not charged with being
against the doctrines of Christianity. I lost the oppor-
tunity of saying much to the purpose, when Bayley
observed that the libel was inconsistent with the
doctrines of Christianity.

December 4th. — I breakfasted early, and soon after
nine walked to Dr. Wordsworth's, at Lambeth. I
crossed for the first time Waterloo Bridge. The view
of Somerset House is very fine indeed, and the bridge
itself is highly beautiful ; but the day was so bad that
I could see neither of the other bridges, and of course
scarcely any objects.

I found Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth and the Doctor at
breakfast, and I spent a couple of hours with them very
agreeably. We talked about poetry. Wordsworth has
brought MSS. with him, and is inclined to print one or
two poems, as it is the fashion to publish small volumes
now. He means then to add them to the "Thanks-
giving Ode," &c., and form a third volume. He read
to me some very beautiful passages.

December 6th. — I dined with the Colliers, and in the
evening Hundleby called on me, and we went together
to Covent Garden. I have not been so well pleased for
a long time. In " Guy Mannering " there were four
interesting performances. First, Braham's singing, the
most delicious I ever heard, though I fear his voice is
not so perfect as it was ; but in this piece I was parti-
cularly delighted, as he sang in a style of unstudied
simplicity. Second, Liston's Dominie Sampson, an

Chap. ii.
1817.

Words-
worth.

Drahatn
and Liston

in Guy
Manneringt

Hone's First Trial.

Chap. h.
1817.

Hone s first
trial.

absolutely perfect exhibition. His terror when accosted
by Meg MerriHes was the most amusing and correctly
natural representation I ever witnessed. Emery's repre-
sentation of Dandie Dinmont also most excellent ; and,
though not equal to the other attractions of the piece,
Mrs. Egerton gave great effect to Meg Merrilies. But
the piece itself is worth nothing.

December i %th. — I spent the greater part of the morn-
ing at the King's Bench sittings, Guildhall. Hone's first
trial took place to-day. It was for publishing a parody
on the Church Catechism, attacking the Government.
Abbott* sat for Lord Ellenborough. Hone defended
himself by a very long and rambling speech of many
hours, in which he uttered a thousand absurdities, but
with a courage and promptitude which completely
effected his purpose. Abbott was by no means a match
for him, and in vain attempted to check his severe
reproaches against Lord Ellenborough for not letting
him sit down in the King's Bench, when he was too ill
to stand without great pain. Hone also inveighed
against the system of special juries, and rattled over a
wide field of abuses before he began his defence, which
consisted in showing how many similar parodies had
been written in all ages. He quoted from Martin
Luther, from a Dean of Canterbury, and a profusion of
writers, ancient and modern, dwelling principally on
Mr. Reeves and Mr. Canning.f

* Afterwards Lord Tenterden, Lord Chief Justice of King's Bench.

•(• Hone's defence was that the practice of parodying religious works, even
parts of the Holy Scriptures and the Book of Common Prayer, had been
aclopted by men whose religious character was above suspicion. Examples
were adduced from Martin Luther, Dr.. John Boys, Dean of Canterbury in

His Defence.

Hone had not knowledge enough to give his argu-
ment a technical shape. It was otherwise a very good
argument. He might have urged, in a way that no
judge could object to, that new crimes cannot be
created without Act of Parliament, and that he ought
not to be charged by the present Attorney-General
with a crime, in doing what no other Attorney-General
had considered to be a crime. Least of all would a
jury convict him of a crime, who was a known adver-
sary of the Government, when others, of an opposite
political character, had not been prosecuted. This last
point he did indeed urge correctly and powerfully
enough.

I left him speaking to go to dinner at Collier's. The
trial was not over till late in the evening, when he was
acquitted.

I spent the evening at Drury Lane, and saw Kean as
Luke in " Riches."* It was an admirable performance.
His servile air as the oppressed dependant was almost
a caricature. But the energy of his acting when he
appeared as the upstart tyrant of the family of his
brother was very fine indeed. Though he looked ill in
health, and had a very bad voice throughout, still his
performance was a high treat. I could not sit out a

the reign of James I., Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford, Lord Somers, Mr.
Canning, and Mr. Reeves. Of Mr. Reeves Hone said: " His name stood in
the title-page of the Book of Common Prayer, in most general use, as
patentee," " he was a barrister, and had been a commissioner of bankrupts."
Having shown from these instances, that parodies were not necessarily disre-
spectful to the work parodied, and that they had been hitherto allowed, Hone
declared that his ought not to be regarded as an exception, and that on this
ground, and this alone, he asked for a verdict of " Not Guilty."
* Altered from Massinger's play of " The City Madam."

Chap. ii.
1817.

Kean.

Hones Second Trial.

Chap. ii.
1817.

Hone s
second trial.

poor farce called " The Man in the Moon," and came
home to a late tea in chambers.

December igtk. — I went again to the King's Bench,
Guildhall. Lord Ellenborough sat to-day. I was
curious to see how he would succeed where Abbott had
failed, and whether he could gain a verdict on Hone's
second trial after a former acquittal. Hone was evi-
dently less master of himself before Ellenborough than
before Abbott, and perhaps would have sunk in the
conflict, but for the aid he received from the former
acquittal. He pursued exactly the same course as
before. This charge was for publishing a parody on the
Litany, and it was charged both as an anti-religious and
a political libel ; but the" Attorney-General did not
press the political count. After a couple of hours'
flourishing on irrelevant matter, Hone renewed his
perusal of old parodies. On this Lord Ellenborough
said he should not suffer the giving them in evidence.
This was said in such a way that it at first appeared he
would not suffer them to be read. However, Hone
said, if he could not proceed in his own way he would
sit down, and Lord Ellenborough might send him to
prison. He then went on as before. Several times he
was stopped by the Chief Justice, but never to any
purpose. Hone returned to the offensive topic, and did
not quit it till he had effected his purpose, and the
judge, baflled and worn out, yielded to the prisoner : —

"An eagle, towering in the pride of place,
W^as by a moping owl hawk'd at and kill'd."

I came away to dinner and returned to the Hall to
hear the conclusion of the trial. Shepherd was feeble

Hones Third Trial.

in his reply. But Lord Ellenborough was eloquent.
In a grave and solemn style becoming a judge he
declared his judgment that the parody was a profane
libel. The jury retired, and were away so long that I
left the court, but I anticipated the result.*

December 20th. — Having breakfasted early, I went
again to the court at Guildhall. The Government
had, with inconceivable folly, persisted in bringing
Hone to a third trial after a second acquittal; and that,
too, for an offence of far less magnitude, the publishing
a parody on the Athanasian Creed, which the Court
punished Williams for by a four-months imprisonment,
while the parody on the Litany, of which Hone was
yesterday acquitted, was punished by eight months'
imprisonment and a fine of £100. The consequence
was to be foreseen. He was again acquitted, after
having carried his boldness to insolence. He re-
proached Lord Ellenborough for his yesterday's charge,
and assumed almost a menacing tone. He was, as be-
fore, very digressive, and the greater part of his seven-
hours speech consisted of very irrelevant matter. He
did not fail to attack the Bar, declaring there was not
a man who dared to contradict Lord Ellenborough, for
fear of losing the ear of the Court — a most indecent,
because a most true, assertion. I expected he would
fall foul of me, for my speech on behalf of Williams,
but I escaped. He drew a pathetic picture of his
poverty, and gained the good -will of the jury by

* On the first and third trials, a quarter of an hour was enough for the jury;
on this second trial, it took them seven times as long — an hour and three-
qtiarters — to decide on their verdict.

Chap. ii.
.1817.

Hone's
third trial.

Lord Ellenboroiigli s overbearing Ways.

Chap. h.
1 8 17.

Lord Ellen-
borough's
despotism.

showing how much he had already suffered. He de-
clared that, if convicted, his life would be lost, and at
the same time he scorned to ask any favour. He was
very ill when the trial began, but he would not have it
put off, &c.

Before he got into his defence I left the Court, and
called on Mrs. Meyer. I dined and took tea with the
Colliers, and afterwards went to Amyot. I found him
liberally disposed on the subject of the late trials.
Though he considered the parodies political libels, he
thought the Ministry justly taken in for their canting
pretence of punishing irreligion and profanity, about
which they did not care at all.

To recur to the singular scene of this morning, with-
out a parallel in the history of the country, I cannot
but think the victory gained over the Government and
Lord Ellenborough a subject of alarm, though at the
same time a matter of triumph. Lord Ellenborough is
justly punished for his inhumanity to Hone on a former
occasion, and this illiterate man has avenged all our
injuries. Lord Ellenborough reigned over submissive
subjects like a despot. Now he feels, and even the Bar
may learn, that the fault is in them, and not in their
stars, if they are underlings.* Lord Ellenborough has
sustained the severest shock he ever endured, and I
really should not wonder if it shortened his life.f

* Mr. Robinson says elsewhere that he never felt able to do his best before
Lord Ellenborough.

t Lord Ellenborough resigned his office as Lord Chief Justice on account of
ill-health in the month of October, 1818, and died on December 13th, in the
same year. As to the effect of Hone's trial upon Ivord Ellenborough's health,
there has always been a difference of opinion.

Lamb's Christmas Turkey.

H. C. R. TO T. R.

December, 1817.

I am quite ashamed of myself. After the notice
so attentively sent by my sister about the turkeys, I
ought not to have forgotten to write yesterday ; but the
infirmities of old age are growing fast upon me, and
loss of memory is the chief.* Of course I do not
wish my sister to trouble herself to-morrow, but as
soon as she can, I will thank her to send as usual to
the Colliers and to Charles Lamb. But the latter, you
are to know, is removed to lodgings, and I will thank
you to let his turkey be directed minutely to Mr. Lamb,
at Mr. Owen's, Nos. 20 and 21, Great Russell Street,
Drury Lane.

You have, of course, been greatly interested by the
late unparalleled trials. I attended every day, though
not during the whole days, and listened with very mixed
emotions

Lord EUenborough is, after all, one of the greatest
men of our age. And though his impatience is a sad
vice in a judge, he yet becomes the seat of justice nobly ;
and in the display of powerful qualities adds to our
sense of the dignity of which man is capable. And
that a man of an heroic nature should be reduced
to very silence, like an imbecile child, is indeed a sad
spectacle. And the Attorney-General too — a mild,
gentlemanly, honourable nature. But he suffered little
in comparison with the chief, and he conducted himself
with great propriety. Hone said, very happily, " It is

* In 1864, Mr. Robinson notes on this, "What did I mean by old age
forty-seven years ago?"

Chap. ii.

1817.

The usual

Christmas

turkey for

Charles

Lamb.

Lord Ellen-
borough.

Coleridsce on the Hone Trial.

Chap. ii.
1817.

Burrell.

Dinner at
Mr. Monk-
houses.

Coleridge
against the

Hone
prosecution.

a pity Mr. Attorney was not instructed to give up this
third prosecution. I am sure he would have done it
with great pleasure. Had the Ministry given him a
hint — a mere hint — I am sure he would have taken it."

December 21st. — I breakfasted with Ed. Littledale,
and met Burrell and Bright * (also at the Bar) there. We
talked, of course, about the late trials, and Burrell was
warm, even to anger, at hearing me express my pleasure
at the result. He went so far as to declare I was a
mischievous character ; but this was said with so much
honest feeling, that it did not make me in the least
angry, and I succeeded in bringing him to moderation at
last. He feels, as Southey does, the danger arising from
the popular feeling against the Government ; and he
considers the indisposition of the London juries to
convict in cases of libel as a great evil. Bright, who
came after the heat of the battle was over, took the
liberal side, and Ed. Littledale inclined to Burrell. The
beauty of Littledale's chambers,-|- and his capital library,
excited my envy.

December 2'jth. — I called on Lamb, and met Words-
worth with him ; I afterwards returned to Lamb's.
Dined at Monkhouse's.j The party was small — Mr. and
Mrs. Wordsworth and Miss Hutchinson, Coleridge and
his son Hartley, and Mr. Tillbrook. After dinner
Charles Lamb joined the party.

I was glad to hear Coleridge take the right side on

* Mr. Henry Bright, M.P. for Bristol from 1820 to 1830.

t These looked into Gray's Inn Gardens.

X Mr. Monkhouse was a London merchant and a connection of Mrs.
Wordsworth. He married a daughter of Mr. Horrocks, who for a long time
represented Preston in Parliament.

Coleridge and Wordsworth at Lamb's-

Hone's trial. He eloquently expatiated on the necessity
of saving Hone, in order to save English law, and he
derided the legal definition of a libel — whatever tends
to produce certain consequences, without any regard to
the intention of the publisher.*

Among the light conversation at dinner, Tillbrook
related that Southey had received a letter from a person
requesting him to make an acrostic on the name of a
young lady in Essex. The writer was paying his ad-
dresses to this young lady, but had a rival who beat
him in writing verses. Southey did not send the verses,
and distributed the money in buying blankets for some
poor women of Keswick.

December yoth. — I dined with the Colliers, and spent the
evening at Lamb's. I found a large party collected round
the two poets, but Coleridge had the larger number.
There was, however, scarcely any conversation beyond a
whisper. Coleridge was philosophizing in his rambling
way to Monkhouse, who listened attentively, — to Man-
ning, who sometimes smiled, as if he thought Coleridge
had no right to metaphysicize on chemistry without
any knowledge of the subject, — to Martin Burney, who
was eager to interpose, — and Alsager, who was content
to be a listener ; while Wordsworth was for a great part
of the time engaged tete-a-tete with Talfourd. I could
catch scarcely anything of the conversation. I chatted
with the ladies. Miss Lamb had gone through the
fatigue of a dinner-party very well, and Charles was
in good spirits.

♦ Compare with this Coleridge's letter to Lord Liverpool, written in July
this year. Yonge's "Life of Lord Liverpool," Vol. IL p. 300.
VOL. IL G

Chap. ii.
1 8 17.

Coleridge
and Words-
worth at
Lamb's.

Southey refuses to

Chap. ii.
1817.

H. C. R.'s

professional
income.

Southey

asked to be

Editor of

The Times.

December '>,\st. — The last day of the year was one
of the darkest days I remember in any year, A
thick fog came over London between eight and nine,
and remained all the day. Late at night it cleared
up.

The increase of my fees from ;^355 19^. to £\\^ 5 J. 6^.
is too paltry to be worth notice. Yet my journal shows
that I had not relaxed in that attention which the Ger-
mans call Sitzfleiss — sitting industry — which is com-
patible with sluggishness of mind.

Rem.* — During this year, my intimacy with Walter
not declining, and his anxieties increasing, he authorized
me to inquire of Southey whether he would undertake
the editorship on liberal terms. Southey declined the
offer, without inquiring what the emolument might be ;
and yet the Times was then supporting the principles
which Southey himself advocated.-f-

SOUTHEY TO H. C. R.

Mar. \zth, 18 17.
My dear Sir,

Your letter may be answered without delibera-
tion. No emolument, however great, would induce
me to give up a country life and those pursuits in litera-
ture to which the studies of so many years have been
directed. Indeed, I should consider that portion of my
time which is given up to temporary politics grievously
misspent, if the interests at stake were less important.
We are in danger of an insurrection of the Yahoos : it

* Written in 1851.

t The fact is stated in the " Life of Southey," Vol. IV. p. 261.

Edil the Times,

is the fault of Government that such a caste should
exist in the midst of civilized society ; but till the breed
can be mended it must be curbed, and that too with a
strong hand.

I shall be in town during the last week in April, on
my way to Switzerland and the Rhine. You wrong
our country by taking its general character from a
season which was equally ungenial over the whole
continent.

Believe me, my dear Sir,

Yours very truly,

Robert Southey.

Chap. ir.

1817.

G 2

Charm of Good Engravings.

Chap. hi.

Engrav-
ings.

Voltaire
on Shake-
speare.

CHAPTER III.

i«i;

Jamiary 6th, — I dined at the Colliers', and at seven
Walton and Andros came to me. We spent several
hours very agreeably in looking over between thirty and
forty new engravings, chiefly sacred subjects. I find
the appetite for these things grows by what it feeds on.
I enjoyed many of them, and rejoiced at the prospect
of seeing a print of Guido's "Hours"* over my chimney-
piece. Walton is a man of taste, and feels the beauty
of such things.

January 12th. — I read in a volume of Voltaire's Mis-
cellanies to-day his life of Moliere, — amusing enough :
and his " critique of Hamlet," a very instructive as well
as entertaining performance ; for it shows how a work
of unequalled genius and excellence may be laughably
exposed. I forgive Frenchmen for their disesteem of
Shakespeare. And Voltaire has taken no unfair liberties
with our idol. He has brought together all the dis-
convenances, according to the laws of the French drama,
as well as the national peculiarities. To a Frenchman,

* The well-knovm engraving by Raphael Morghen to which Rogers alludes,
as hanging on his wall, in his "Epistle to a Friend" —
' ' O mark ! again the coursers of the Sun,
At Guido's call, their round of glory run."

Hazlitfs Lecture.

" Hamlet" must appear absurd and ridiculous to an
extreme. And^ this by fair means, the Frenchman not
perceiving how much the absurdity, in fact, lies in his
own narrow views and feelings.

Jmmary i6th. — (At Cambridge.) After nine Mr.
Chase accompanied me to Randall's, where I stayed
till half-past eleven. We debated on the principles
of the Ascetics. I contended that the Deity must
be thought to take pleasure in the improvement of
civilization, in which is to be included the fine arts ;
but I was set down by the text about " the lust of the
flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life," which
are said not to proceed from the Father. Thus, I fear,
every pleasing or bright conception of the Supreme
Being and of the system of the universe may be met
by a text !

January 2'jth. — I went to the Surrey Institution,
where I heard Hazlitt lecture on Shakespeare and
Milton. He delighted me much by the talent he dis-
played ; but his bitterness of spirit broke out in a
passage in which he reproached modern poets for their
vanity and incapacity of admiring and loving anything
but themselves. He was applauded at this part of his
lecture, but I know not whether he was generally
understood.

From hence I called at Collier's, and taking Mrs.
Collier with me, I went to a lecture by Coleridge in
Fleur-de-lis Court, Fleet Street.* I was gratified unex-

• The syllabus of this course, which included fourteen lectures, is given
at length in Vol. II. of Coleridge's "Lectures upon Shakespeare and other
Dramatists." The subjects are very comprehensive — Language, Literature,
and Social and Moral Questions.

Chap, in,
1818.

Asceticism.

Civiliza-
tion not a
blessing
from
Providence,

Hazlitt on

Shake-
speare and
Milton.

Coleridge's Lecture. — A " Times " Dinner.

Chap. in.

Coleridge

on the
origin of
foetry.

Company at
Godwin's.

Dinner at
Walters.

pectedly by finding a large and respectable audience,
generally of superior-looking persons, in physiognomy
rather than dress. Coleridge treated of the origin of
poetry and of Oriental works ; but he had little anima-
tion, and an exceedingly bad cold rendered his voice
scarcely audible.

February 4th. — I called on Godwin, and at his house
met with a party of originals. One man struck me by
his resemblance to Curran — his name Booth. Godwin
called him, on introduction, a master of the English
language, and I understand him to be a learned etymo-
logist. His conversation was singular, and even original,
so that I relished the short time I stayed. A rawboned

Scotchman, , was there also, less remarkable, but

a hard-headed man. A son of a performer, R by

name, patronized by Mr. Place,* talked very well too.

All three Jacobins, and Booth and R debaters:

I was thrown back some ten years in my feelings.
The party would have suited me very well about that
time, and I have not grown altogether out of taste for
it. I accepted an invitation to meet the same party a
week hence.

February loth.—l dined with Walter. A small and
very agreeable party. Sydenham, Commissioner of
Excise, suspected to be "Vetus," a great partisan of
the Wellesleys ; Sterling, more likely to be the real
"Vetus," — a sensible man; Dr. Baird, a gentlemanly
physician, and Eraser. The conversation was beginning

* Mr. Place was a tailor at Charing Cross; a great Westminster Radical,
an accomplished metaphysician, a frequent writer on political affairs, a man
of inflexible integrity and firmness, and a friend and protege' of Jeremy
Bentham.

The New Park — the Regents.

to be very interesting, when I was obliged to leave the
party to attend Coleridge's lecture on Shakespeare,
Coleridge was apparently ill.

• February i^th. — At two, I took a ride with Preston in
his gig, into the Regent's Park, which I had never seen
before. When the trees are grown this will be really
an ornament to the capital ; and not a mere ornament,
but a healthful appendage. The Highgate and Hamp-
stead Hill is a beautiful object, and within the Park the
artificial water, the circular belt or coppice, the bridges,
the few scattered villas, &c., are objects of taste. I
really think this enclosure, with the new street* leading
to it from Carlton House, will give a sort of glory to
the Regent's government, which will be more felt by
remote posterity than the victories of Trafalgar and
Waterloo, glorious as these are.

February lyth. — I stayed at home a great part of the
forenoon. Wirgmann, the Kantianer, called on me. His
disinterested proselyte-making zeal for the critical phi-
losophy, though I no longer share his love for that
philosophy, is a curious and amusing phenomenon. He
worships his idol with pure affection, without sacrificing
his domestic duties. He attends to his goldsmith's shop
as well as to the works of Kant, and is a careful and kind
educator of his children, though he inflicts the categories
on them.

I took tea athome, and Hamond calling, I accompanied
him to Hazlitt's lecture. He spoke of the writers in the
reign of Queen Anne, and was bitter, sprightly, and full
of political and personal allusions. In treating of Prior,

* Regent Street. '

Chap. hi.

The

Regent's

Park.

A disciple
of Kant.

Hazlitt on
writers in
the time of

Queen

Anne.

Hazlitfs Indiscretion. — L ecture.

Chap. hi.

Cervantes.

Flaxman.

Hazlitt on
Words-
worth.

he quoted his unseemly verses against Blackmore to
a congregation of saints. He drew an ingenious but
not very intelligible parallel between Swift, Rabelais,
and Voltaire, and even eulogized the modern infidel.
So indiscreet and reckless is the man !

February 20th. — I dined at Collier's, and went to Cole-
ridge. It was agreed that I should invite Mrs, Pattisson to
go with me to the lecture, and I also took Mira May and
Rachel Rutt. We found the lecture-room fuller than I
had ever seen it, and were forced to take back seats ;
but it was a pleasure to Mrs. Pattisson to sit behind Sir
James Mackintosh. He was with Serjeant Bosanquet
and some fashionable lady. The party were, however,
in a satirical mood, as it seemed, throughout the lecture.
Indeed Coleridge was not in one of his happiest moods
to-night. His subject was Cervantes, but he was more
than usually prosy, and his tone peculiarly drawling.
His digressions on the nature of insanity were carried
too far, and his remarks on the book but old, and by
him often repeated,

February 2y'd. — Heard a lecture by Flaxman at the
Royal Academy, He was not quite well, and did not
deliver it with so much animation and effect as I have
known him on former occasions throw into his lectures.

February 24th. — I dined and took tea at Collier's, and
then heard part of a lecture by Hazlitt at the Surrey
In.stitution, He was so contemptuous towards Words-
worth, speaking of his letter about Burns, that I lost
my temper. He imputed to Wordsworth the desire of
representing himself as a superior man,

February 27th. — I took tea with Gurney, and invited

Coleridge's Lecture. — Leigh Hunt.

Mrs. Gurney to accompany me to Coleridge's lecture.
It was on Dante and Milton — one of his very best. He
digressed less than usual, and really gave information
and ideas about the poets he professed to criticise. I
returned to Gurney's, and heard Mr. Gurney read Mrs.
Fry's examination before the committee of the House
of Commons about Newgate, — a very curious examina-
tion, and very promising as to the future improvements
in prison discipline.

March i<)th. — I had six crown briefs at Thetford.
One was flattering to me, though it was an unwelcome
one to hold. It was on behalf of Johnson, whose trial
for the murder of Mr. Baker, of Wells, lasted the whole
of the day. I received, a day or two before, a letter
from Dekker, the chaplain to the Norwich Gaol, saying
that some gentlemen (the Gurneys principally) had sub-
scribed, to furnish the prisoner with the means of
defence. The evidence against him was merely circum-
stantial, and he had told so consistent a tale, stating
where he had been, that many believed him innocent.
He, Dekker, had witnessed my " admirable and suc-
cessful defence of Massey, for the murder of his wife "
(such were his words), and had recommended me for the
present case.

April i8th. — (At C. Lamb's.) There was a large
party, — the greater part of those who are usually there,
but also Leigh Hunt and his wife. He has improved in
manliness and healthfulness since I saw him last, some
years ago. There was a glee about him which evinced
high spirits, if not perfect health, and I envied his
vivacity. He imitated Hazlitt capitally : Wordsworth !

Chap. hi.

1818.

Coleridge

on Dante

nnd Milton.

Mrs. Fry.

Briefs.

Leigh
Hunt.

Charles Mathews "At Home."

Chap. hi.
1818.

Mathews
at home.

not so well. Talfourd was there. He does not appre-
ciate Wordsworth's fine lines on " Scorners." Hunt did
not sympathize with Talfourd, but opposed him play-
fully, and that I liked him for.

April 2T,rd. — I had a note from Hundleby, proposing
to go with me to hear Mathews' Imitations, at eight.
He came to me accordingly, and I accompanied him
into the pit of the Lyceum.

The entertainment consisted of a narrative (for the
greater part) of a journey in a mail-coach, which gave
occasion to songs, imitations, &c. The most pleasant
representation was of a Frenchman, His broken
English was very happy. And Mathews had caught
the mind as well as the words of Monsieur. His
imitation of French tragedians was also very happy.
Talma was admirably exhibited.

A digression on lawyers was flat. I did not feel the
ridicule, and I could not recognize either judge or
barrister.

Mathews was not without humour in his representa-
tion of a French valet, attending his invalid master in
bed ; and his occasional bursts as master, and as the
invisible cook and butler, were pleasant. He took a
child, i.e. a doll, out of a box, and held a droll dialogue.

The best dramatic exhibition was a narrative as an
old Scotchwoman. He put on a hood and tippet,
screwed his mouth into a womanly shape, and, as if by
magic, became another creature. It was really a treat.
He concluded by reciting part of Hamlet's speech to
the players, as Kemble, Kean, Cooke, Young, Banister,
Fawcett, and Munden, with great success.

Sir S. Romilly — a Bar Speech.

April 2^th. — I went to Westminster Hall as usual,
but had a very unusual pleasure. I heard one of the
very best forensic speeches ever delivered by Sir Samuel
Romilly. He had to oppose, certainly, very moderate
speeches from Gifford and Piggott, and a better one
from Home. It was in support of an application by
Mrs. M. A. Taylor, that the Countess of Antrim should
abstain from influencing her daughter, Lady Frances
Vane Tempest, in favour of Lord Stewart, who had
applied for a reference to the Master to fix the marriage
settlements, which application Romilly resisted. His
speech was eloquent without vehemence or seeming
passion, and of Ulyssean subtlety. He had to address
the Chancellor against the Regent's friend, the Ambas-
sador at Vienna, and Lord Castlereagh's brother, and he
continued to suggest, with as little offence as possible,
whatever could serve his purpose as to the fortune, age,
morals, &c., of his Lordship. He exposed with much
humour and sarcasm the precipitation with which the
marriage was urged, after a few weeks' acquaintance,
two or three interviews, and a consent obtained at the
first solicitation.

April y:>th. — I called on Lamb and accompanied him
to Mr. Monkhouse, Queen Anne Street East. Haydon
and Allston,* painters, were there, and two other gentle-

* Washington Allston, distinguished as an historical painter of a very high
class, was bom in South Carolina, 1779. In England, 1803, he enjoyed the
friendship of B. West and Fuseli. At Rome, he was knowh by the resident
German artists as "The American Titian." He there formed a lasting
friendship with Coleridge and -Washington Irving. He said of Coleridge,
" To no other man whom I have ever known do I owe so much intellectually."
Allston's portnut of Coleridge, painted at Bristol in 1814 for Joshua Wade, is
now in the National Portrsiit Gallery. His two best known pictures in this

Chap. hi.
1818.

Sir S.
Romilly.

Allston.

Hay don. — A llston. — Masquerier.

Chap. hi.
1818.

Scott
Waring.

men whose names I did not collect. The conversation
was very lively and agreeable. Allston has a mild
manner, a soft voice, and a sentimental air with him —
not at all Yankeeish ; but his conversation does not
indicate the talent displayed in his paintings. There is
a warmth and vigour about Haydon, indicating youthful
confidence, often the concomitant of talents and genius,
which he is said to possess. His conversation is certainly
interesting. Monkhouse himself is a gentlemanly
sensible man. Lamb, without talking much, talked his
best. I enjoyed the evening.

May dfth. — At six I dined with Masquerier,* and met
a singular party. The principal guest was the once

country are "Jacob's Dream," at Petworth, painted in 1817, and " Uriel in the
Sun," at Trentham. He married a sister of the celebrated Dr. Channing. He
died at Cambridge Port, near Boston in America, 1843.

* John James Masquerier, a portrait painter by profession. Without
aspiring to academical rank, he attained an independence by his profes-
sional life of twenty-eight years. He was descended on both the father's and
the mother's side from French Protestant refugees. Being sent to school in
Paris, he witnessed some of the most thriUing scenes of the Revolution,
Being again at Paris in 1800, he obtained permission to make a likeness of the
First Consul without his being aware of what was going on. With this and
other sketches he returned to England, and composed a picture of ' ' Napoleon
reviewing the Consular Guards in the Court of the Tuileries." It was the first
genuine likeness of the famous man; and being exhibited in Piccadilly in 1801,
produced to the young artist a profit of a thousand pounds. Beattie, in his
Life of Thomas Campbell (Vol. I. p. 429), quotes a description of Masquerier
by the poet as " a pleasant little fellow with French vivacity." In 1812 he
married a Scotch lady, the widow of Scott, the Professor of Moral Philosophy
at Aberdeen. This lady was by birth a Forbes, and related to the Frasers and
Erskines. After Mr. Masquerier retired from his profession, he went to live at
Brighton, where he was the respected associate of Copley Fielding, Horace
Smith, and other artists and hterary men. H. C. R. was his frequent guest,
and on several occasions travelled with him. Mr. Masquerier died March
13th, 1855, in his 77th year.

Abridged from an obituary notice by H. C. R. in the Gentleman s Maga-
zine, May, 1855.

Coleridge on Children in Factories.

famous Major Scott Waring,* he who, when censured
by the Speaker, on Burke's saying that he hoped it
would not occasion feelings too painful, started up and
said he need not fear that : he had already forgotten it.
The Major now exhibits rather the remains of a
military courtier and gentleman of the old school than
of a statesman, the political adversary of Burke. But
good breeding is very marked in him.

Coleridge to H. C. R.

May ird, 1818.
My dear Sir,

Ecce iterum Crispinus ! Another mendicant letter
from S. T. C. ! But no, it is from the poor little
children employed in the Cotton Factories, who would
fain have you in the list of their friends and helpers ;
and entreat you to let me know for and in behalf of
them, whether there is not some law prohibiting, or
limiting, or regulating the employment either of children
or adults, or of both, in the White Lead Manufactory ?
In the minutes of evidence before the Select Committee
of the House of Commons on the state of children in
the Cotton Factories, in 18 16, the question is put to Mr.
Astley Cooper, who replies, " I believe there is such a
law." Now, can you help us to a more positive answer ?
Can you furnish us with any other instances in which
the Legislature has directly, or by immediate conse-
quence, interfered with what is ironically called " Free
Labour ? " (z>. dared to prohibit soul-murder and

* The friend and zealous supporter of Warren Hastings in his trial. —
H. C. R. Vide Macaulay's " Essays," Vol. III. pp. 436, 442, &c.

Chap. rn.
i8i8.

Coleridge
on the
employment
of children
in manu-
factories.

Coleridge on Restricting Children s Labour.

Chap. hi.
1818.

infanticide on the part of the rich, and self-slaughter on
that of the poor !) or any dictum of our grave law
authorities from Fortescue to Bacon, and from Bacon to
Kenyon and Eldon : for from the borough in Hell I
wish to have no representative, though on second thoughts
I shoiild have no objection to a good word in God's
cause, though it should have slipped from the Devil's
mouth. In short, my dear sir, the only objection likely
to produce any hesitation in the House of Lords
respecting Sir Robert Peel's Bill, which has just passed
the House of Commons, will come from that Scottish
(" der Teufel scotch man all for snakes ! ") plebeian

earl. Lord L , the dangerous precedent of

legislative interference with free labour, of course
implying that this bill will provide the first precedent.
Though Heaven knows that I am seriously hurting myself
by devoting my days daily in this my best harvest-tide
as a lecture-monger, and that I am most disinterestedly
interested in the fate of the measure, yet interested I
am. Good Mr. Clarkson could scarcely be more so !
I should have bid farewell to all ease of conscience if I
had returned an excuse to the request made for my
humble assistance. But a little legal information from
you would do more than twenty S. T. C.s, if there
exists any law in point in that pithy little manual
yclept the Statutes of Great Britain. I send herewith
two of the circulars that I have written as the most to
the point in respect of what I now solicit from you.* Be

* This Bill was by the father of the late Sir Robert Peel. (See an interesting
reference in Yonge's " Life of Lord Liverpool," Vol. II. p. 367.) The Ten
Hours Bill, restricting the hours of labour in factories for children and persons
of tender years to ten hours, passed in 1844.

Macready. — Miss Stephens. — L iston. — Emery.

so good (if you have time to write at all, and see aught

that can be of service) to direct to me, care of Nathaniel

Gould, Esq., Spring Garden Coffee House. I need not

add, that in the present case. Bis dat qui cito dat.

For procrastination is a monopoly (in which you have

no partnership) of your sincere, and with respectful

esteem, affectionate friend,

S. T. Coleridge.

May yth. — I lounged at the Surrey Institution till it
was time to go to Covent Garden Theatre, where I
went by appointment with Thomas Stansfeld. We
heard "The Slave," and saw "The Sorrows of Werther."
"The Slave" is a sentimental musical drama, which
exhibits Macready to great advantage. He is an heroic,
supergenerous, and noble African, who exercises every
sort of virtue and self-denial, with no regard to pro-
priety, but considerable stage effect. Miss Stephens'
singing is as unlike an African as her fair complexion.
She is very sweet in this character. Braham's voice
was husky, and he hardly got as much applause as
Sinclair. Liston as a booby cockney, come to see an
old maiden aunt ; Emery as his Yorkshire friend, who
is to help him out of difficulties, are decently funny.

" The Sorrows of Werther " is a pleasant burlesque,
and Liston infinitely comic. I cannot account for the
caprice which made this piece so unpopular, in spite of
Liston's capital acting. The great objection is that the
satire is not felt. Werther's sentimentality is ridiculous
enough, but who cares in England for foreign literature 1
Had we a party here who were bent on supporting, and
another resolved to ruin, the German poet, there would

Chap. hi.
1818.

An evening
at Covent
Garden.

Royal Academy. — Hamond.

Chap. hi.

The Royal
Academy.

Turner's
landscapes.

Flaxman.

Hamond.

be an interest. Besides, I am not sure that the sapient
public knew what was meant for burlesque. Is it certain
that the author knew ?

May I \th. — I lounged away this day entirely. I went
first to the Exhibition. There I saw a number of
gaudy portraits — and a few pictures, which at the end
of a week I recollect with pleasure. A splendid land-
scape by Turner, " The Dort Packet Boat," has a rich-
ness of colouring unusual in water scenes, and perhaps
not quite true to nature ; but this picture delights me,
notwithstanding. On the contrary. Turner's " Field
of Waterloo" is a strange incomprehensible jumble.
Lawrence's " Duke of Wellington " is a fine painting.

I called on Miss Lamb, and so passed away the
forenoon, I dined with the Colliers and took tea with
the Flaxmans. Mr. Flaxman has more than sixty
engravings by Piranesi, not better than mine, and only
seventeen the same, though part of the same series.
Fraser says the collection amounts to I20.

May 24th. — This was an agreeable day. I rose
early, and walked to Norwood. The weather as fit
for walking as possible, and the book I lounged with
very interesting. From half-past six to nine on the
road. It was near ten before Hamond came down.
I did not suffer him to be called. I found him in
pleasantly situated small apartments, where he contrives
to pass away his time with no other society than a little
child, whom he teaches its letters, and a mouse, that
feeds out of his hands. I was the first friend who
called on him there. He writes for his amusement on
whatever subject chances to engage his attention, but

Mrs. Barbaiild. — Covent Garden.

with no purpose, I fear, literary or mercantile. Yet he
says he suffers no ennui.

May 3 1 J" A — I wrote an opinion in the forenoon, on
which I spoke with Manning. I walked then to Clap-
ton, reading Lord Byron, but finding the Kents from
home, I went to Mrs. Barbauld's, with whom I dined.
Several people were there, and young Mr. Roscoe
called. Mrs. Barbauld speaks contemptuously of Lord
Byron's new poem,* as being without poetry, and in
horrible versification. It may be so.

!^u7ie gf/i. — I took tea with the Miss Nashes, and
accompanied them to Covent Garden, where we were
very much amused by " She Stoops to Conquer."
Liston's Tony Lumpkin is a delightful performance.
The joyous folly, the booby imbecility, of Tony are
given with exquisite humour and truth. And I was
charmed by the beauty of Miss Brunton, though her
acting is not very excellent. Charles Kemble over-
acted the sheepishness of the bashful rake, and under-
acted the rakishness — in both particulars wanting a just
perception of the character. And Fawcett but poorly
performed old Hardcastle. But the scenes are so
comic that, in spite of moderate acting, I was gratified
throughout.

3^une i8t/i. — During the general election, nothing has
hitherto much gratified me but the prospect of Sir
Samuel Romilly's triumphant election for Westminister,
and the contempt into which Hunt seems to have
fallen, even with the mob he courts. His absence from
the poll, the folly of his committee in joining with

* " Beppo," published in May, 1818.
VOL. II. H

Chap. iir.

1818.

Mrs.
Barbavld.

She Stoops
to Conquer.

Komilly
and Hunt.

Westminster Election.

Chap. hi.
i8i8.

Romilly

and

Burdett

elected for

Westmin~

iter.

Kinnaird — and even the secession of the few who have
split their votes for Cartwright and Hunt, will, I expect,
in concurrence with the decided hostility of the Court,
and the semi-opposition of the Whigs, fix Captain
Maxwell as second to Romilly.

July 2,rd. — I dined at the Colliers', and then walked
to the hustings. The crowd was great. Burdett and
Romilly are again higher on the poll than Captain
Maxwell. I consider the election as decided.

Jidy 4th. — I spent the forenoon at Guildhall, and
took a cold dinner at the Colliers' early, being desirous
to see something of the election at Covent Garden. I
was too late, however, to get near the hustings, and suf-
fered more annoyance from the crowd than sympathy
with or observation of their feelings could compensate.
The crowd was very great, and extended through the
adjacent streets. There was not much tumult. The
mob could not quite relish Sir Samuel Romilly being
placed at the head of the poll, though, their hero being
elected, they could not complain. All the Burdettites,
therefore, acceded to the triumph of to-day, though a
few deep-blue ribbons were mingled with the light blue
and buff of the Whigs. Sir Samuel sat in a barouche
with W. Smith, &c. Streamers, flags, and a sort of
palanquin were prepared, to give this riding the air of
a chairing. He looked rather pale, and as he passed
through the Strand, and it appeared as if the mob would
take off the horses, he manifested anxiety and appre-
hension.*

• A few weeks after this, in a fit of despair on the death of his wife, he
destroyed himself, — an event which excited universal sorrow.— H. C. R.

Visit to Germany.

Rem* — Thirteen years had elapsed since I left Jena.
I had kept up a correspondence, though not a close
one, with two of my friends, and though I had ceased
to devote myself to German literature, I felt a desire
to renew my German acquaintance. I wished also to
become better acquainted with the Rhine scenery, and
with portions of the Netherlands yet unknown. I shall
not dwell on places, but confine my reminiscences to
persons.

At Frankfort I saw my old friends, at least those of
them who were not from home. I found that my Jena
fellow-student, Frederick Schlosser, had been frightened
into Romanism by ill-health and low spirits. These led,
first to the fear of hell, and then to the Romish Church
as an asylum. His brother was converted at Rome, and
then made a proselyte of him. They were wrought on,
too, by Werner, Frederick Schlegel, and the romantic
school of poets and artists. Of Goethe, Schlosser said,
" What a tragical old age his is ! He is left alone. He
opposes himself to the religious spirit that prevails
among the young ; therefore justice is not done him.
But he is still our greatest man." He ought, perhaps,
to have said also, "He is opposed to the democratic
tendencies of the age."

On August 23rd I parted from Naylor, and accom-
panied a Mr. Passavant in his carriage to Weimar, which,
after travelling all night, we reached the second evening,
passing through Eisenach, Erfurth, &c.

At Jena I found my friend Knebel-f* in a garden-house.
I was not expected, but was soon recognized, and met

• Written in 1851. t SeeVaX. I. pp. 195 — 199.

H 2

Chap. m.

Schlosser.

Weimar.

Jena.
Knebel.

lOO

Jena.

Chap. hi.

Weimar.

The Crown
Prince.

with a reception which justified the long and fatiguing
journey. My old friend was the same as ever — a little
feebler, of course ; but in character and habits the same
affectionate, generous, high-minded, animated old man
I knew years ago. With the same quick sensibility to
everything good and beautiful, the same comical irrita-
bility without anger, and the same rough, passionate
tone, which could not for a moment conceal the tender-
ness of his disposition. Mrs, Von Knebel I found the
same hospitable and friendly person — attentive to her
husband's guests, and most anxious to make me com-
fortable. There was a new member of the family — a
boy, Bernard — a sweet child, delicately framed, who
died young. The first affectionate greetings were
scarcely over, and we were in the very act of projecting
how I could be brought to see Charles, the Major's
eldest son, who is a lieutenant in the Prussian service,
when he suddenly entered the room. The parents were
overjoyed at seeing him, and I was glad too. Thirteen
years ago he was a boy, now he had become a fine
young man, with as fierce an appearance as a uniform,
whiskers, and moustache can give ; but, in spite of these,
a gentle creature, and full of affection towards his
parents.

My visit to the Knebels was interrupted by an excur-
sion of two days to Weimar, of which dignitatis causd
I must give an account. While at Knebel's, the Crown
Prince of Weimar called on him, and was courteous to
me, so that it was incumbent on me to call on him and
accept an invitation to dine at Court, which I did
twice. On the first occasion, I was recognized by the

The Court at Weimar.

lOl

chamberlain, Count Einsiedel, who introduced me to
the Grand Duchess, Einsiedel was an elegant courtier-
poet, author of some comedies from Terence, acted in
masks after the Roman fashion. Prince Paul, the
second son of the King of Bavaria, was also a visitor.
There might have been thirty at table, including Goethe's
son. On our return to the drawing-room, I was intro-
duced to the Crown Princess, and had rather a long
conversation with hrer. She was somewhat deaf, and I
took pains to be understood by her in German and
English. I mentioned the familiarities of the English
lower classes towards her brother, the Emperor Alex-
ander, and expressed a fear lest such things should deter
her from a visit to England. She said the Emperor was
perfectly satisfied, and that, as to herself, she wished to
see England : " Es gehdrt zii den fronunen Wiinsclien "
(It belongs to the pious wishes). We talked of lan-
guages. I said I hoped to see the dominion of the
French language destroyed, as that of their arms had
been. She smiled and said, "Das ware viel" (That
would be much).

I was called out of the circle by the Grand Duchess,
and chatted a considerable time with her. I referred to
the well-known interview between herself and Napoleon,
after the battle of Jena, of which I said England was
well-informed, (not adding, "through myself."*) She

* The account alluded to was communicated by H. C. R. to the Times,
December 26th, 1807, and republished in Mrs. Austin's " Characteristics of
Goethe," Vol. III. p. 203. The following extracts will give the substance and
result of this interesting interview : —

' ' When the fortunes of the day began to be decided (and that took place
early in the morning), the Prussians retreating through the town were pursued
by the French, and slaughtered in the streets. Some of the inhabitants were

Chap. hi.

1818.

Count
Einsiedel.

Dinner at
Court.

The Crown.
Princess.

Grand
Duchess.

102

Grand Duchess and Napoleon.

Chap. hi.
1818.

received my compliment favourably — said, as some one
must stay in the house, she was the proper person ;
that after the plundering was over, Buonaparte behaved
civilly enough in his fashion.

murdered, and a general plunder began. In the evening, the conqueror
approached and entered the palace of the Duke, now become his own by the
right of conquest. It was then that the Duchess left her apartment, and
seizing the moment of his entering the hall, placed herself on the top of the
staircase, to greet him with the formality of a courtly reception. Napoleon
started when he beheld her. ' Qui etes vous ? ' he exclaimed, with his charac-
teristic abruptness. 'Je suis la Duchesse de Weimar' — 'Je vous plains,' he
retorted fiercely ; 'j'^craserai votre mari.' He then added, ' I shall dine in my
apartment,' and rushed by her.

"On his entrance next morning, he began instantly with an interrogative
(his favourite figure). ' How could your husband, Madame, be so mad as to
make war against me?' — 'Your Majesty would have despised him if he had
not,' was the dignified answer he received. 'How so?' he hastily rejoined.
The Duchess slowly and deliberately rejoined, ' My husband has been in the
service of the King of Prussia upwards of thirty years, and surely it was not at
the moment that the King had so mighty an enemy as your Majesty to contend
against that the Duke could abandon him.' A reply so admirable, which
asserted so powerfully the honour of the speaker, and yet conciliated the vanity
of the adversary, was irresistible. Buonaparte became at once more mild,
and, without noticing the answer already received, continued his interrogatories.
' But how came the Duke to attach himself to the King of Prussia?' — 'Your
Majesty will, on inquiry, find that the Dukes of Saxony, the younger
branches of the family, have always followed the example of the Electoral
House ; and your Majesty knows what motives of prudence and policy have
led the Court of Dresden to attach itself to Prussia rather than Austria.'
This was followed by further inquiries and further answers, so impressive, that
in a few minutes Napoleon exclaimed with warmth, ' Madame, vous etes la
femme la plus respectable que j'ai jamais connue : vous avez sauv^ votre marl.'
Yet he could not confer favour unaccompanied with insult ; for, reiterating his
assurances of esteem, he added, 'Je le pardonne, mais c'est k cause de vous
seulement ; car, pour lui, c'est un mauvais sujet." The Duchess to this made
no reply; but, seizing the happy moment, interceded successfully for her
suffering people. Napoleon gave orders that the plundering should cease.

"When the treaty which secured the nominal independence of Weimar, and
.declared its territorj' to be a part of the Rhenish League, was brought from
Buonaparte to the Duke by a French general, and presented to him, he
refused to take it into his own hands, saying, with more than gallantry, ' Give
it to my wife ; the Emperor intended it for her.' "

Dinners at Court.

103

The Grand Princess inquired whether I had heard
the Russian service performed, and on my saying " No,"
she said she would give orders that I should be admitted
the next day (Sunday), I accordingly went. The Rus-
sian language I thought very soft, and like Italian. But
I was guilty of an oversight in not staying long, which
the Princess noticed next day after dinner. She said
she had ordered some music to be played on purpose
for me. She seemed an intelligent woman — indeed,
as all her children have been, she was crammed with
knowledge.

To terminate at once my mention of the Court, I
dined here a second time on Sunday, and was intro-
duced to the Grand Duke. He talked freely and
bluntly. He expressed his disapprobation of the
English system of jurisprudence, which allowed lawyers
to travel for months at a time. "We do not permit
that." I said, " When the doctor is absent, the patient
recovers." A bad joke was better than contradiction ;
besides, he was right.

The intimacy in which the Grand Duke had lived all
his life with Goethe, and the great poet's testimony to
his character — not ordinary eulogy — satisfy me that
he must have been an extraordinary man. On the
whole, this visit to Weimar did not add to my pre-
possessions in its favour. The absence of Goethe was
a loss nothing could supply.

I went to the theatre — no longer what it was under
the management of Goethe and Schiller. Jagermann,
then the favourite of the Grand Duke, was at this time
become fat ; her face had lost all proportion, and was

Chap. hi.

Grand
Princess.

Grand
Duke.

Weimar
Theatre.

104

Griesbach's Widow.

Chap. hi.

1818.

Tieftirth.

Madame

Griesbach' s

garden.

destitute of expression. She performed, without effect,
the part of Sappho, in Grillparzer's disagreeable tragedy
of that name. Mademoiselle Beck played the slave, and
the scene in which she bewailed her forlorn state, and
gained the love of Phaon, was the only one that affected
me. I sat part of the evening with Mesdames Wolzogen
and Schiller.

I went to Tiefurth, the former residence of the
Dowager Duchess Amelia, where Sturm* has his estab-
lishment, and among the characters I called on was
Herr von Einsiedel, the motose and cynical husband of
my old acquaintance, Madame von Einsiedel.

August 29///. — I accompanied Knebel to Madame
Griesbach's garden, the most delightful spot in the
neighbourhood of Jena. This has been bought for
.^1,000 by the Grand Duchess. Her children were
there, and I was introduced to the Princesses — mere
children yet ; but it is surprising how soon they have
acquired a sense of their dignity. These children are
over-crammed ; they learn all the sciences and lan-
guages, and are in danger of losing all personal
character and power of thought in the profusion of
knowledge they possess. This is now the fashion
among the princes of Germany.

I saw Griesbach's widow. The old lady knew me in
a moment, and instantly began joking — said she sup-
posed I was come to pay a visit to E 's^f lecture-
room.

* Professor Sturm taught at this establishment the economical sciences,
i.e. all that pertains to agriculture and the useful arts.- H. C. R.

f The Professor with whom H. C. R. had a misunderstanding. — See Vol. I.
p. 208.

Attachment to Knebel.

105

My last few days at Jena were spent almost alone
with Knebel. He told me of Wieland's death, which
was, he said, delightful. Wieland never lost his cheer-
fulness or good-humour; and, but a few hours before
his death, having insisted on seeing his doctor's pre-
scription, " I see," said he, " it is much the same with
my life and the doctor's Latin, they are both at an
end." He was ill but a' week, aind died of an indiges-
tion.

I\Iy last day at Jena was spent not without pleasure.
It was one of uninterrupted rain ; I could not, therefore,
take a walk with Fries, as I had intended, so I remained
the whole day within doors, chatting with my friend
Knebel. We looked over books and papers. Knebel
sought for MSS. of the great poets, Goethe, Wieland, and
Herder for me, and talked much about his early life,
his opinions, &c. As Andenken (for remembrance) he
gave me a ring with Raphael's head on it, given him by
the Duchess Amelia, and four portraits in porcelain and
iron of the four great German poets. In return, I gave
him Wordsworth's poems, which had occupied so much
of our attention.

On the 9th of September, I left my friend Knebel
with sorrow, for I could not expect to see him again,
and I loved him above every German. His memory is
dear to me. I sauntered, not in high spirits, to Weimar,
where I slept, and on the loth set out in a diligence
towards Frankfort. I spent a little time with Knebel's
son at Erfurth, where he is stationed. I had to spend
three nights on the road, reaching Frankfort at 4 A.M.,
on the 13th. A more wearisome journey I never made.

Chap. hi.

Wieland.

Last day at
Jena.

Journey to
Frankfort.

io6

The Brentano Family.

Chap. hi.

Frankfort.

Christian
Brentano.

Savigny,

I spent my time at Frankfort almost entirely with my
friends of the Aldebert connection, and the Brentano
family and their friends.

September I'^tJi. — When I met Christian Brentano he
embarrassed me by kissing me, with all outward marks
of friendship. After being an econome for some years in
Bohemia, after dabbling in philosophy and mathematics,
and rejecting medicine and law, he is now about to
become a priest. In a few words, he said that he had
been, by God's providence, brought to see that religion
alone can give comfort to man. "I was," said he, "first
led to this by seeing what faith can do in making
men good. I was led to know my own worthlessness.
Nature opened to me somewhat of her relation to God.
I saw wonderful phenomena — miracles!" — "Do you
mean," said I, " such miracles as the Scriptures speak
of?" — "Yes," said he, "of the same kind." I had not
the assurance to ask him of what kind they were, but
merely said, I had often wished in my youth to see a
miracle, in order to put an end to all further doubt and
speculation. Brentano then talked mystically. That
he is a deceiver, or playing a part, I am far from
suspecting. That he has a wrong head, with great
powers of intellect, I have long known. But I was not
prepared for such a change. In society he is, however,
improved; he is now quiet, and rather solicitous to
please than to shine ; but his wild Italian face, with all
its caricature ferocity, remains.

Rem* — The Brentano circle was extended by the pre-
sence of Savigny and his wife. He was already a great

* Written in 1851.

Savigiiy. — Stilling.

107

man, though not arrived at the rank he afterwards
attained. It is a remarkable circumstance, that when I
lately introduced myself to hirn in Berlin — he being now
an ex-Minister of. Justice, fallen back on his literary
pursuits, and retired from official life, which is not his
especial province — both he and I had forgotten our few
interviews in this year (18 18), and had thought that we
had not seen each other since I left Germany at the
beginning of the century, that is, in 1865.

My course led me to Baden-Baden. It is enough for
me to say that I walked through the admirable Murg-
Thal with great delight, and had for my book during
the walk, " Scenes out of the World of Spirits," by
Henry Stilling (or Jung). The theory of the spiritual
world entertained by this pious enthusiast is founded on
the assumption that every witch and ghost story is to
be taken as indubitably true. He has many believers in
England as elsewhere. Having been reproached as a
fanatic, he desires all unbelievers to consider his tales as
mere visions — these tales being narratives of sentences
passed in heaven on great criminals, &c., by an eye-
witness and auditor. In Goethe's Life is an interesting
account of him.* Goethe protected him from persecu-
tion when a student at Strasburg, but became at last
tired of him. Goethe corrected the first volume of his
Autobiography by striking out all the trash. This I
learned from Knebel. That volume, therefore, should
be read by those who might find the subsequent volumes
intolerable. Stilling was the nom de guerre of Jung.

I spent six days at Paris, where were Miss Nash,

* Vide " Dichtung und Wahrheit, " Books ix. and x.

Chap. hi.
1818.

Baden-
Baden.

Stilling.

Paris,

io8

Bust of Wieland.

Chap. hi.

Mademoi-
selle Mars.

Thelwall.

Wieland's
bust.

M. Andrews, &c. The only object of great interest was
Mademoiselle Mars. " She a little resembles Miss Mel-
lon* when she was young — i.e. Miss Mellon when she
stood still, neither giggling nor fidgetty." I did not
foresee that I was writing of a future duchess.

November y:)th. — Thelwall called. His visit gave
me pain. He has purchased The Champion, and is
about to take up the profession of politician, after so
many years' pause. An old age of poverty will be his
portion.

December 2,rd. — I bought at Dove Court, St. Martin's
Lane, a marble bust of Wieland by Schadow, for ten
guineas. Flaxman informed me of this bust being
there. He says it is an excellent head, which he would
have bought himself, had he had a room to put it in. I
am delighted with my purchase. It is a very strong
likeness, and in a style of great simplicity. The head
is covered with a cap, which is only distinguished from
the skull by two lines crossing the head ; the hair curls
round below the cap, and the head stoops a very little,
with the sight rather downwards. The forehead and
temples are exquisitely wrought, and the drapery is
pleasingly folded. It is unwrought at the sides, in each
of which is a square opening. Having this fine object
constantly before me will generate a love for sculpture.-|-

December 4th. — I dined with John Collier, and in the
evening, after taking tea with Miss Lamb, accompanied

* Afterwards Mrs. Coutts, and then Duchess of St. Albans,
j" There will be further reference to this bust in the year 1829. It is a mag-
nificent work of art. A cast of it is or was to be seen ait the Crystal Palace.

Covent Garden. — Grote.

109

her to Covent Garden. We saw "The Rivals," and
Farren for the first time, the last theatrical tyro that
has appeared. His Sir Anthony Absolute appeared to
me delightful. He is a young man, I am told, yet he
was so disguised by painted wrinkles, and a face and
figure made up by art, that I could hardly credit the
report. The consequence of a manufactured counte-
nance and constrained unnatural attitudes is, that the
actor has a hard and inflexible manner. Listen's
Acres, however, gave me the greatest pleasure. It was
infinitely comic and laughable, and none the worse for
being even burlesque and farcical.

Rem* — My journal mentions Farren as an admirable
comic actor, only twenty-five or twenty-six years old.
This must be a mistake. He is now worn out, and
apparently a very old man.

December igth. — I dined with Serjeant Blossett. No
one with him but Miss Peckwell and a nephew of the
Serjeant's, a Mr. Grote, a merchant, who reads German,
and appears to be an intelligent, sensible man, having
a curiosity for German philosophy as well as German
poetry. I read a number of things by Goethe and
others to the Serjeant, who has already made great
advances in the language, and can relish the best
poetry. Grote has borrowed books of me.

Rem.-f — This year I became a " barrister of five
years' standing," an expression that has become almost
ridiculous, being the qualification required for many
offices by acts of parliament, while it is notorious that
many such barristers are ill-qualified for any office. I

* Written in 1851.

j- Written in 1851.

Chap. hi.

1818.

Farren.

Liston.

Grote.

A barrister

of Jive

years'

standing.

Sir S. Romilly.

Chap. hi.
1818.

Fees.

Appeal tc
Privy
Council.

Sir S.
Komilly.

was no exception, certainly, at any time of my life,
being never a learned lawyer or a skilful advocate, and
yet in this my fifth year I attained some reputation :
and of this year I have some anecdotes to relate of
myself and others not uninteresting to those who may
care for me or for the profession.

There was but an insignificant increase of fees, from
;^4i5 in 1817 to i^488 during this year; but this little
practice brought me into connection with superior men,
and into superior courts.

For instance, I had an appeal in the Council Cham-
bers from Gibraltar with Sir Samuel Romilly. It was
a case of mercantile guarantee. I have forgotten the
facts, and I refer to the case merely because it shows
Sir Samuel's practice. He read from the printed state-
ment, in the most unimpressive manner, the simple
facts, adding scarcely an observation of his own. I
followed at some length, not comprehending the course
taken by my excellent leader, and Hundleby,* my client,
was satisfied with my argument. I pleaded before Sir
W. Grant, Sir William Scott, &c. Hart, afterwards
Chancellor of Ireland, and Lovett were for the respon-
dents. Then Sir Samuel Romilly replied in a most
masterly manner. I never heard a more luminous and
powerful argument. He went over the ground I had
trod, but I scarcely knew my own arguments, so
improved were they. Judgment was ultimately given
in our favour. I have since understood that it was Sir
Samuel's practice, when he had the reply, to open the
case in this way, and not even to read the brief before he

* Vide note p. 67.

A Usury Case.

Ill

went to court, knowing that his junior and adversaries
would give him time enough to become master of the
facts and settle his argument.

At the Spring Assizes, at Thetford, I made a speech
which gained me more credit than any I ever made,
either before or after, and established my character as
a speaker : luckily it required no law. I thought of it
afterwards with satisfaction, and I will give an account
of the case here (it will be the only one in these
Reminiscences), partly because it will involve some
questions of speculative morality. It was a defence in a
Qui tarn action for penalties for usury to the amount of
;^2,640.* My attorney was a stranger. He had offered
the brief to Jameson, who declined it from a conscious-
ness of inability to speak, and recommended me. The
plaintiff's witness had requested my client to lend him
money, which, it is stated by the single witness, he
consented to do on the payment of i^20. A mortgage
also was put in ; and on this the case rested. The de-
fence was a simple one. It could lie only in showing
that the witness could not safely be relied on ; and this
I did in a way that produced applause from the au-
dience, a compliment from the judge, and a verdict in
my favour. Now, what I look back upon with pleasure
is, that I gained this verdict very fairly and by no
misstatement. I will put down some of the salient
points of my speech, of which I have a distinct recol-
lection.

* A Qui tarn action is an action brought by an informer for penalties of
which a half share is given to the informer by the statute. The suit would be
by Moses, plaintiff, who sues " as well for himself" (Qui tarn) as for our Lord
the King.

Chap. in.

A Qui tam
usury case.

112

H. a R:s speech

Chap. hi.
1818.

H. C. R.'s
speech.

I began — " Gentlemen, I have often thought that
juries, as conscientious men, anxious to do justice, must
be distressed by perceiving that they are called upon to
decide a case on most imperfect evidence, where, from
the nature of the case, they can only guess what the
truth may be, hearing only one side. This is one of
those cases. There can be no doubt that my client lent
a sum of money to that man, his own attorney, whom
you have seen in that box ; and that man has thought
proper to tell you that, in order to obtain that loan, he
was forced to give i^20. Now, this was a transaction
between these persons, and I cannot possibly contradict
him. For, were I to read you my brief, or tell you what
my client says, of course denying all this, I should be
reproved by his Lordship, and incur the ridicule of my
learned friends around me ; because, what the party in
the cause says is not evidence.* This is a hardship, but
it is the law; and I refer to it now, not to censure the
law, which would be indecorous, but to draw your atten-
tion to this most important consequence, that since you
are compelled to hear the witness — one party alone —
and are not at liberty to hear the other party, in a trans-
action between them and none other, you have the duty
imposed on you closely to examine what that witness
has said, and ask yourselves this question, whether such
a statement as he has thought proper to make, knowing
that he may swear falsely with safety (for he can never
be contradicted), must be credited by you.

" Gentlemen, at the same time that I am not in a
condition to deny what that man has said, I add, with

* This law is now altered.

to the Jury.

113

the most entire confidence, that it is impossible for you,
acting under those rules which good sense and con-
science alike dictate, to do other than by your verdict
declare that you cannot, in this essentially criminal case,
convict the defendant on the uncorroborated testimony
of that single witness."

I then pointedly stated that, though in form an action,
this was in substance a criminal case, and to be tried by
the rules observed in a criminal court ; and that, unless
they had a perfect conviction, they would not consign
this old retired tradesman to a gaol or a workhouse for
the rest of his days in order to enrich Mr. Moses (the
common informer, who had luckily a Jew name) and the
Treasury. And I pledged myself to show that in this
case were combined all imaginable reasons for distrust,
so as to render it morally impossible, whatever the fact
might be, to give a verdict for the Qui tarn plaintiff.

I then successively expatiated on the several topics
which the case supplied, — on the facts that the single
witness was the plaintiffs own attorney — an uncertifi-
cated bankrupt who was within the rules of the King's
Bench prison ; that he came down that morning from
London in the custody of a sheriffs officer, though,
when asked where he came from, he at first said from
home, having before said he was an attorney at Lynn.
And I had laid a trap for him, and led him to say he
expected no part of the penalty. This I represented
to be incredible ; and I urged with earnestness the
danger to society if such a man were of necessity to be
believed because he dared to take an oath for which he
could not be called to account here. And I alluded to

VOL. II. I

Chap. iir.

114

The Counsellor's Baz-

Chap. hi.
1818.

The coun-
sellor's bag.

H. C. R.

has a chance
to punish
his old
school-
master.

recent cases in which other King's Bench prisoners had
been transported for perjury, and to the known cases of
perjury for blood-money. As I have already said, I
sat down with applause, which was renewed when the
verdict for the defendant was pronounced. The man I
had so exposed gave me something to do afterwards on
his own account ; and, more than once, attorneys, new
clients, in bringing me a brief, alluded to this case.
But the power of making such a speech does not
require the talents most essential to the barrister — '■
none of which did I, in fact, possess.

In the spring Term of this year, Gurney,* the King's
Counsel's clerk, brought me a bag, for which I pre-
sented him with a guinea. This custom is now obsolete,
and therefore I mention it. It was formerly the
etiquette of the Bar that none but Serjeants and
King's Counsel could carry a bag in Westminster
Hall. Till some King's Counsel presented him with
one, however large the junior (that is, stuff-gowned)
barrister's business might be, he was forced to carry his
papers in his hand. It was considered that he who
carried a bag was a rising man.

At the following Bury Assizes I was concerned in
a case no otherwise worth noticing than as it gave
occasion to good-natured joking. I defended Ridley,
the tallow-chandler, in an action against him for a
nuisance in building a chimney in Still Lane. The
chief witness for plaintiff was Blomfield (father of the
present Bishop of London).-f- He had said that he was

* Afterwards Baron Gurney.
•)■ See Vol. I. p. s.

H. C. R. Cross-examines his old Schoolmaster,

II?

a schoolmaster, and the plaintiff and defendant and
defendant's counsel had all been his pupils. When I
rose to cross-examine him, C. J. Dallas leaned over, and in
an audible whisper said, " Now, Mr. Robinson, you may
take your revenge." Good-natured sparring took place
between Blomfield and myself, and I got a verdict in a
very doubtful case, — insisting that, if a nuisance, it must
be a general one, and so"the subject of an indictment.
Afterwards, on an indictment, I contended that the
remedy was by action, if it were a grievance, and in
this I failed.

Before the Summer Assizes I dined with C. J. Gibbs.
Others of the circuit were with me. Some parts of his
conversation I thought worth putting down, though
not very agreeable at the time, as it was manifestly
didactic, and very like that of a tutor with his pupils.
He spoke with great earnestness against the " Term
Reports,"* which he considered as ruinous to the pro-
fession in the publication of hasty decisions, especially
those at Nisi Prius, and urged the necessity of arguing
every case on principle. On my remarking on the
great fame acquired by men who were eminently de-
ficient, he was malicious enough to ask for an instance.
I named Erskine. He was not sorry to have an oppor-
tunity of expressing his opinion of Erskine, which
could not be high. He remarked on Erskine's sudden
fall in legal reputation, " Had he been well-grounded,
he could not have fallen."

This same day, on my speaking of the talents re-
quired in an opening and reply, he said that the Lord

* One of the earliest series of periodical law reports.

I 2

Chap. m.

Chief Jus-
tice Gibbs.

ii6

Fees of the Bar.

Chap. hi.
1818.

Lawyers
fees.

Judicial
changes.

Chancellor (Eldon) reproached Sir James Mansfield
with the practice I have noticed in Sir Samuel Romilly,
of leaving his argument for the reply, which was as-
cribed to laziness. Gibbs praised Bell, the Chancery
practitioner, as a man who was always in the right.
" He always gave the most satisfactory answer to a
question in^the fewest words,"

In the winter of this year I heard from Gurney
some interesting facts about fees, which within about
eleven or twelve years had risen much above what,
was formerly known. Kaye,* the solicitor, told Gur-
ney once that he had that day carried the Attorney-
General (Gibbs) 100 general retainers, that is 500
guineas. These were on the Baltic captures and insu-
rance cases. Gibbs did not think that Erskine ever
made more than 7,000 guineas, and Mingay confessed
that he only once made 5,000 guineas. He observed
that the great fortunes made in ancient times by
; lawyers must have been indirectly as the stewards of
great men. Otherwise, they were unaccountable.

I must here add that all this is little compared with
the enormous gains of my old fellow-circuiteer, Charles
Austin, who is said to have made 40,000 guineas by
pleading before Parliament in one session.

This year there were great changes in the law courts.
Of the judicial promotions Jekyll said, being the pro-
fessional wag, that they came by titles very different,
viz. : — C. J. Abbott by descent, J. Best by intrusion, and
Richardson by the operation of law. The wit of the
two first is pungent ; the last, a deserved compliment.

* Solicitor to the Bank of England, &c.

A Joke of JekyWs.

117

It was expected, said Jekyll, that Vaughan would come
in by prescription. This was not so good. Sir Henry
Halford,* the King's physician, was his brother.

I must not forget that, on Aldebert's death, his books
were taken by a bookseller, but I was allowed to have
what I liked at the bookseller's price. I laid out £^Q
in purchasing Piranesi's prints and other works of art,
and had many calls from men of taste to see them.

The Colliers, with whom I used to dine, left London
this year. Their place was to some extent supplied
by John Payne Collier,-|- who took a house in Bouverie
Street. It was not then foreseen that he would become
a great Shakespearean critic, though he had already
begun to be a writer.

• Sir Henry Halford was the son of Dr. Vaughan of Leicester, but changed
his name in 1809, when he inherited a fortune from his mother's cousm, Sir
Charles Halford.

f J. P. Collier wrote " History of English Dramatic Poetry to the Time of
Shakespeare," 1831 ; " New Facts regarding the Life of Shakespeare," 1835;
" Sliakespeare Library ; a Collection of the Romances, Novels, Poems, and
Histories used by Shakespeare as the Foundation of his Dramas," 1843; and
various other works.

Chap. hi.

Jekyirs

joke
thereon.

Aldebert's
prints.

ii8

Clark son 07t the Emperor of Russia.

Chap. iv.
1819.

Clarkson

and the

E7npcror

Alexander.

The

Emperor on
slavery.

CHAPTER IV.
1819.

January \th. — (At Bury.) I walked early up town and
left with Mr. Clarkson his MS. account of his interview
with the Emperor of Russia, at Aix-la-Chapelle, on the
subject of the slave-trade. This interview must receive
its explanation from future events. The Emperor talked
of the Quakers and Bible Societies, of the Society against
War, of which he considered himself a member, and of
the slave-trade, as one might have expected a religious
clergyman would have done. Mr. Clarkson is a sincere
believer in the Emperor's sincerity.

Thomas R. to Habakkuk R.

Bury St. Edmunds, January 6th, 18 19.

The Buck party were at my house

last Friday, when we were entertained, and most highly
interested, by Mr. Clarkson's account of his interview
with the Emperor of Russia, at Aix-la-Chapelle. His
reception by the most powerful potentate in the world
was extremely gracious. The Emperor took him most
cordially by both his hands, drew a chair for him and
another for himself, when they sat down, in Mr. Clark-
son's language, " knee to knee, and face to face." The
principal subject of their conversation was, of course,

Emperor Alexaiider on Slavery and War.

119

Chap. iv.

1819.

And on-
war.

the abolition of the slave-trade, in which the Emperor
takes an extraordinary interest, and seems to be most
earnestly anxious to use his powerful interest to in-
duce the other Powers of Europe to concur in this

measure

The Emperor, at this meeting, professed likewise the
most pacific sentiments, and spoke with great energy of
the evil and sin of war, admitting that it was altogether
contrary to the spirit of Christianity, and said that he
desired to inculcate this sentiment in the minds of
the different Powers, and should therefore propose fre-
quent congresses to adjust disputes, without having
recourse to the too common arbitration of the sword.
You know, perhaps, that, for the purpose of eradicating
^he warlike spirit, Peace Societies have been formed both
in this country and in America. (We have a small one
in this town.) The Emperor assured Mr. Clarksion
that he highly approved of them, and wished to be
considered as belonging to them. And no longer ago
than yesterday, Mr. Clarkson received a copy of a
letter, written in English by the Emperor with his own
hand, and addressed to Mr. Marsden, the Chairman of
the London Peace Society, in which he repeats the
same sentiments in favour of the principles of the
Society. It is at any rate a curious phenomenon to
find an advocate of such principles in such a person.
There are those who doubt his sincerity, but where can
be the motive to induce the Autocrat of all the Russias
to flatter even such an individual, however excellent,
as Mr. Clarkson, or Mr. Marsden, a stock-broker in
London ^

I20

Benjamin Constant.

Chap, iv

1819.

January \A,ih. — I spent the day partly in reading
some very good political writings by Benjamin Con-
B. Constant stant — the first part of his first volume. His principles

on \ ......

Monarchy, j appear excellent, and there is to me origmality m them.
I His treating the monarchical power as distinct from the
{ executive pleases me much. He considers the essence
! of the monarch's office to lie in the superintending
everything and doing nothing. He controls the legis-
lature by convoking and dismissing their assemblies ;
and he even creates and annihilates the ministers.
Being thus separated from the executive body — that
may be attacked, and even destroyed (as is constantly
done in England), without any detriment to the'State.

Rem.* — Had Louis Philippe felt this, he might have
retained his throne, but he would be an autocrat,
which did not suit the French people. -f

January 26th. — We saw " Brutus." This play has

had great success, and with reason, for it exhibits Kean

advantageously ; but it seems utterly without literary

merit, though the subject admitted of a great deal of

passionate poetry. Kean's exhibition of the Idiot in the

I first act was more able than pleasing ; when he assumed

j'the hero, he strutted and swelled, to give himself an air

f he never can assume with grace. It was not till the close

I of the piece, when he had to pass sentence on his own

son, that he really found his way to my heart through

my imagination. His expression of feeling was deep

* Written in 1851.

j- Added in the margin of the MS. :— " Palpable ignorance, this ! At this
hour a bold usurper and autocrat has succeeded, because he knew how to go
to work. An accident may, indeed, any day destroy his power. April 17th,
1852. The date is material."

Luui<:
Philippe.

Kean in
Brutus,

Lamb's Love for Art.

121

and true, and the conflict of affection and principle well
carried out. An awkward effect was produced by the
attempt to blend too much in one play. The act by
which Brutus overturned the Tarquins was not that of
a man who had a son capable of treason against his
country.

February 2nd. — Naylor took tea with me ; and soon
after, Charles and Mary Lamb came to look at my
prints. And the looking them over afforded us pleasure.
Lamb has great taste and feeling ; his criticisms are
instructive, and I find that enjoyment from works of
art is heightened by sympathy. Talfourd came while
we were thus engaged. He stayed with us, and after-
wards joined us in a rubber, which occupied us till late.
Talfourd stayed till near one, talking on personal
matters.

February iZth. — I lounged for half an hour before the
Covent Garden hustings — a scene only ridiculous and
disgusting. The vulgar abuse of the candidates from
the vilest rabble ever beheld is not rendered endurable
by either wit or good temper, or the belief of there
being any integrity at the bottom. I just saw Hobhouse.
His person did not please me ; but Sir Richard Phillips,
whom I met there, tells me I am like him, which I do
not think to be the fact. Lamb * I could scarcely see,
but his countenance is better. Orator Hunt was on the
hustings, but he could not obtain a hearing from the
mob ; and this fact was the most consolatory part of the
spectacle.

* The Honourable George I^mb, son of the first Lord Melbourne, and
brother of William, who afterwards became Prime Minister,

Chap. iv.

1819.

Lamb.

The

hustings at

Covent
• Garden.

122

Comitas Gentium.

Chap. iv.

I? 19.
Cur ran.

Anecdote of
Grattan.

The
Clarksons.

Grahame.

Scotch law.

No Comitas
gentium
between
England

and
Scotland.

February 2Zth. — After dining at Collier's I went to
Godwin, with whom I drank tea. Curran was there,
and I had a very agreeable chat with him ; he is come
to print his father's life, written by himself; and he
projects an edition of his speeches. He related an
affecting anecdote of Grattan in the House of
Commons. He was speaking in a style that betrayed
the decline of the faculties of a once great man ; he
was rambling and feeble, and being assailed by
coughing, he stopped, paused, and said in an altered
voice, "I believe they are right. Sir!" and sat down.

April T,rd. — By coach to Ipswich ; then on foot in the
dark to Playford (four miles). Mrs. Clarkson was in
high health and spirits ; Tom and Mr. Clarkson also
well. I met with some visitors there, who rendered
the visit peculiarly agreeable. Mr., Mrs., and Miss
Grahame, from Glasgow. He is a Writer to the Signet,
a brother to the late James Grahame the poet ; a most
interesting man, having a fine handsome face and figure,
resembling Wordsworth in his gait and general air,
though not in his features, and being a first-rate talker,
as far as sense and high moral feeling can render con-
versation delightful. We talked, during the few days of
my.stay, about English and Scotch law. He complained
that the Comitas gentium was, not allowed to Scotch-
men : that is, a lunatic having money in the funds,
must be brought to England to have a commission issued
here (though he is already found a lunatic in Scotland)
before dividends can be paid, &c. ; and bank powers of
attorney must be executed according to English forms,
even in Scotland. The first case is certainly a great

On Burke.

123

abuse. Mr. Grahame pleased me much, and I have
already nearly decided on going to Scotland this
summer. In politics he is very liberal, inclining to
ultra principles. He was severe against Southey and
Wordsworth for their supposed apostasy. He speaks
highly of the Scotch law, and considers the administra-
tion of justice there much superior to ours.

April 2Zth. — My ride to-day was very agreeable ; the
weather was mild and fine, and I had no ennui. I
travelled with the Rev. Mr. Godfrey, with whom I
chatted occasionally, and I read three books of the
"Odyssey," and several of Burke's speeches. Burke's
quarrel with Fox does not do honour to Burke. I fear
he was glad of an opportunity to break with his old
friend ; yet he appears to have been provoked. In the
fourth volume of Burke's Speeches, there is the same
wonderful difference between the reports of the news-
papers and the publications of Burke himself.

His own notes of his speech on the Unitarian Peti-
tion are full of profundity and wisdom ; his attack on
the Rights of Man as an abstract principle is justified
on his own representation. How true his axiom, "Crude
and unconnected truths are in practice what falsehoods
are in theory!" Strange, that he should have undergone
so great obloquy because this wise remark has not been
comprehended !

May -^rd. — I dined with Walter, Fraser, and Barnes.
Fraser I attacked on a trimming article in yesterday's
Times about Catholic Emancipation, And Barnes
attacked me about " Peter Bell;" but this is a storm I
must yield to, Wordsworth has set himself back ten

Chap. iv.
1819.

Burke.

Catholic
Emancipa-
tion.

Peter
Bell.

124

T. Moore's Political Satires.

Chap.
1819.

Tom Cribb's
Memorial.

Bonner's
Fields.

years by the publication of this work. I read also
Tom Cribb's Memorial to the Congress — an amusing
volume ; but I would rather read than have written it.
It is really surprising that a gentleman (for so Moore is
in station and connections) should so descend as to
exhibit the Prince Regent and the Emperor of Russia
at a boxing-match, under the names of Porpus and
Long Sandy. The boxing cant language does not
amuse me, even in Moore's gravely burlesque lines.

May 2ird. — I spent several hours at home, looking
over reports, &c., and then walked to Clapton. I had a
fine walk home over Bethnal Green. Passing Bonner's
Fields, a nice boy, who was my gossiping companion,
pointed out to me the site of Bishop Bonner's house,
where the Bishop sat and saw the Papists burnt : such
is the accuracy of traditional tales. He further showed
me some spots in which the ground is low : here the
poor burnt creatures were buried, it seems ; and though
the ground has been filled up hundreds of times, it
always sinks in again. " I do not suppose it is true,"
said the boy, "but I was afraid once to walk on the
spot, and so are the little boys now." The feeling that
Nature sympathizes with man in horror of great crimes,
and bears testimony to the commission of them, is a
very frequent superstition — perhaps the most universal.

jftme 4th. — My sister consulted Astley Cooper. She
was delighted to find him far from unkind or harsh.
He treated her with great gentleness, and very kindly
warned her as much as possible to correct her irrita-
bility— not of temper, but of nerves.

June lOth. — Clemens Brentano is turned monk !

Flaxman o?t Abraham Cooper.

125

June 14th. — Coming home, I found Hamond in town,
and went with him to the Exhibition. I stayed a couple
of hours, but had no great pleasure there. Scarcely a
picture much pleased me. Turner has fewer attractions
than he used to have, and Callcott's " Rotterdam" is
gaudier than he. used to be ; he is aiming at a richer
cast of colour, but is less beautiful as he deviates from
the delicate greys of Cuyp. Cooper's " Marston Moor"
did not interest me, though what I have heard since of
the artist does. I am told he was lately a groom to
Meux, the brewer, who, detecting him in the act of
making portraits of his horses, would not keep him as a
groom, but got him employment as a horse painter. He
was before a rider at Astley's, it is said. He went into
the Academy to learn to draw with the boys. Flaxman
says he knew nothing of the mechanism of his art — he
could not draw at all — but by dint of genius, without
instruction (except, as he says, what he learned from
a shilling book he bought in the Strand), he could paint
very finely. He is already, says Flaxman, a great
painter, and will probably become very eminent indeed.
He is about thirty-five years of age, and is already
an Associate. He paints horses and low life, but his
"Marston Moor" is regarded as a fine composition. His
appearance does not bespeak his origin. " I introduced
him to Lord Grey," said Flaxman, " and as they stood
talking together, I could not discern any difference
between the peer and the painter."

June \6th. — I was much occupied by a scrape John
Collier had got into. A few nights ago he reported
that Mr. Hume had said in the House of Commons

Chap. iv.

1819.

Royal
Academy.

Cooper.

John^

Collier's

breach of

privilege.

1 26 Collier Committed by the House of Commons.

Chap. iv.
1819.

Collier

discharged

from

custody.

that Canning- had risen above the sufferings of others
by laughing at them. Bell* being last night summoned
before the House, John Collier gave himself as the
author, and was in consequence committed to the
custody of the Serjeant-at-Arms. Mr. Wynn moved
that he should be committed to Newgate, but this
was withdrawn in consequence of Collier's manly and
becoming conduct, I was exceedingly alarmed lest this
might hurt Collier with Walter, but, to my satisfaction,
I found that Collier had raised himself In Walter's
opinion ; for, by his gentlemanly behaviour, he raised
the character of the reporters, and he completely re-
lieved Walter from the imputation of having altered the
article. I called on Collier in the House of Commons
prison ; he was in good spirits. Mrs. Collier was there,
and Walter came too, with Barnes. I chatted with
Walter about the propriety of petitioning. He wished
Collier to lie in custody till the end of the session, but
I differed in opinion, and corrected the petition, which
was ultimately adopted. After a hasty dinner in Hall,
I ran down to the House. Barnes procured me a place,
and I stayed in the gallery till quite late. There was
no opposition to Mr. W. Smith's motion- for Collier's
discharge. He was reprimanded by the Speaker in
strong unmeaning words. W. Smith moved for the
bill to relieve the Unitarians against the Marriage Act.-f-

* The publisher of the Times.

-f Mr. W. Smith's object was to obtain for Unitarians at their marriage

the omission of all reference to the Trinity. He did not venture to propose the

more rational and complete relief- -which was after a time obtained — the

marriage of Dissenters in their own places of worship. Vide May's Constitu-

[tional History, Vol. H. 384.

Walter's Coiidttct to Collier.

127

The speech had the merit of raising a feeling favourable
to the speaker, and it was not so intelligible as to excite
opposition. Lord Castlereagh did not pretend to
understand it, and Mr. Wilberforce spoke guardedly
and with favour of the projected measure. The rest of
the speaking this evening was very poor indeed — much
below my expectation. I was heartily tired before
eleven o'clock. I then came home, and read a little of
Homer in bed.

yune2'i^rd. — I called late on Mrs. John Collier. She
informs me that Walter has been doing a very hand-
some thing by John Collier. He gave him a bank-note
for £^0, saying he need not return the surplus after
paying the fees, and hoped that it would be some
compensation for the inconvenience he had suffered
by his imprisonment. Now, the fees amounted to
not more than ;^I4 or £\^. This is very generous
certainly.

July 6th. — I dined with Collier, and had a game of
chess for an hour. I then looked over papers, &c.,
in chambers ; and between seven and eight went to
Godwin's by invitation. Charles and Mary Lamb
were there, also Mr. Booth, — a singular character, not
unlike Curran in person ; a clever man, says Godwin,
and in his exterior very like the Grub Street poet
of the last century. I had several rubbers of whist.
Charles Lamb's good-humour and playfulness made
the evening agreeable, which would otherwise have
been made uncomfortable by the painful anxiety visible
in Mrs. Godwin, and suspected in Godwin. I came
home late.

Chap. iv.
1819.

Walter's
treatment of
J. Collier.

Party at
Godwins.

128

Belsham on Church Establishments.

Chap. iv.

1819.

Thomas
Belsham.

Value of an

Established

Church.

John
Kenrick.

July yth. — I dined by invitation with Mr. Belsham.
T. Stansfeld had written to me by Mr. Kenrick (a
nephew of Mr, Belsham),* requesting me to give Mr.
Kenrick letters of introduction to Germany. Kenrick
left me the letter with an invitation from Belsham. I
had an agreeable visit : a small party — Mr. and Miss
Belsham, Spurrell, Senr., Martineau, Jardine,-f- a Mr.
Reid, and Mr. Kenrick. We kept up a conversation
with very little disputation. Belsham (and I joined
him) defended Church Establishments, which he
thought better than leaving religion to make its way
alone.:}: He said, I think my Church ought to be.
established ; but as that cannot be, I would rather
the Anglican Church should be maintained, with all its
errors and superstitions, than that the unlearned should
be left at large, each man spreading abroad his own
follies and absurdities. § Kenrick opposed him, and
had on some points the best of the argument. Jardine,
and indeed all the party, were against Mr. Belsham
and myself. We talked of animal magnetism, and
told ghost stories, and ghosts seemed on the whole to
be in credit.

jfnly %th. — Mr. Kenrick breakfasted with me. I was
much pleased with him ; he has been, and indeed still
is, tutor at the Manchester New College, York, and is

• There was no actual relationship between Mr. Kenrick and Mr. Belsham ;
Mr Kenrick's father married, as his second wife, the sister of Mr. Belsham.

f The Barrister, afterwards a Police Magistrate.

X Written in 1851.

§ Mr. Belsham's views on thisj'subject were published in three sermons,
entitled "Christianity pleading for the Patronage of the Civil Power, but
protesting against the Aid of Penal Laws." Hunter, St. Paul's Churchyard,
1820.

Casuistry of the Bar.

129

going for a trip to Germany to improve in philological
studies. He is a stanch Unitarian, with a deal of zeal,
but is mild in his manners, a tenacious disputant, but
courteous — a very promising young man.*

July \2th. — (At Bury.) I had an agreeable walk with
Mrs. Kent over the skirts of Hardwick Heath — rather,
enclosure — and home by the West Gate Street. Mrs.
Kent was gradually brought to recollect scenes familiar
to her in childhood, but I could recall few. How little
do I recollect of my past life ! and the idea often occurs
to me that it seems difficult to reconcile responsibility
with utter oblivion. Coleridge has the striking thought
that possibly the punishment of a future life may consist
in bringing back the consciousness of the past.

July 2ist. — Mrs. Kent had left us in the morning. I
therefore thought it right to dine with the magistrates ;
and I am glad I did so, as I had a pleasing day. We
discussed the question, how far a barrister may law-
fully try to persuade the Bench to a decision which he
himself knows to be wrong. I endeavoured to establish
this distinction, that an advocate may practise sophistry,
though he may not misstate a case or a fact.

July 25///. — I breakfasted with Basil Montagu, and
had an hour's pleasant chat with him. He related that
Dr. Scott informed him that he waited on Oliver Gold-
smith, with another gentleman, to niake a proposal, on

* He is now the most learned of the English [Unitarians, and has taken
the lead in the free investigation of the Old Testament, presuming to apply
to it, notwithstanding its sacred character, the rules of profane criticism.
He has lately retired from presiding over the Manchester College. — H. C. R.
1851. H. C. R. had especially in view Mr. Kenrick's work on Primeval
History.

VOL. II. K

Chap. iv.
1819.

Memory
and respon-
sibility.

Casuistry
of the Bar.

Anecdote oj
Goldsmith,

130

Ott Circuit.

Chap. iv.
1819.

Bull-
baiting.

Increase of
fees.

the part of Lord North, that Goldsmith should write on
behalf of the Ministry. They found him in chambers
in the Temple. He was offered any compensation he
might desire. He said he could earn from the book-
sellers as much as his necessities required, and he would
rather live without being obliged to any one. Scott
told this story as a proof of Goldsmith's ignorance of
the world.

August yth. — This was a morning of disappointment.
I had intended to do my best in defending some
Lavenham rioters for bull-baiting, but Burr cut the
matter short by asserting that, though bull-baiting is a
lawful sport, in an enclosure of private property, it could
not be tolerated in the market-place of a town, over
which there is a right of way. I endeavoured to
contend that, if the bull-baiting had lasted from time
immemorial, that fact must modify. the right of way.
I consented that a verdict of Guilty should be entered,
on an engagement that no one should be brought up
for judgment, even if the riot should be renewed next
5 th November.

August loth. — On the evening of my arrival at Norwich
I was even alarmed at the quantity of business there. It
exceeded, in fact, anything I ever had before. I had during
these assizes seventeen briefs, of which thirteen were in
causes^ The produce, seventy-five guineas, including
retainers, exclusive of the fee of an arbitration. This raises
my fees on the circuit to one hundred and thirty-four
guineas, a sum exceeding by twenty-nine guineas the
utmost I ever before received. Of these causes I shall

* That is, not criminal cases.

Benecke.

131

mention three or four afterwards, I had one con-
sultation this evening at Serjeant Blossett s, and I was
engaged the rest of the time till late reading briefs.

August 29///, Rem* — This day commenced a valuable
acquaintance with Mr. Benecke, of whom I think very
highly, as among the most remarkable Germans I
have ever known. I had received a letter from Poel of
Altona, introducing me to a Miss Reinhardt, who wished
to establish herself in England as a teacher of music.
She was on a visit at the Beneckes'. I called on her,
and was invited to dine with them soon after, and
my" acquaintance ripened into intimacy. Benecke was
a man of great ability in various departments ; he
was a chemist, and had a chemical manufactory, by
which he lived. He had been engaged as the con-
ductor of an Insurance Office at Hamburg, and wrote
an elaborate work on the law of insurance in German,
which in Germany is the great authority on the subject.
This induced him, after our acquaintance, to write a
small volume in English on the law of insurance, which
I saw through the press. There was absolutely nothing
to correct in the language. The book did not sell, but
Lord Tenterden spoke well of it as a work of principle,
and allowed it to be dedicated to him. But these were
merely works and pursuits of necessity. He was a
philosopher, and of the most religious character : he
professed orthodoxy, but he would not have been
tolerated by our high-and-dry orthodox. He had a
scheme of his own, of which the foundation was — the
belief in the pre-existence of every human being. His

Written in 1851.

Chap. iv.
1819.

Benecke-

Benecke's
religious
opinions

K 2

132

Theological Speculation.

Chap. iv.

1819.

Mankind-
were fallen
angels.

Deity of
Christ.

Immor-
tality a
parte ante.

Old times
compared
•with the
present.

speculation was, that every one had taken part in the
great rebellion in a former state, and that we were all
ultimately to be restored to the Divine favour. This
doctrine of final restoration was the redeeming article
of his creed. He professed to believe in the divinity of
Christ, and when I put the question to him, he said,
that he considered that doctrine as the most essential
truth of religion ; that God alone without Christ would
be nothing to us ; Christ is the copula by means of
whom man is brought to God. Otherwise, the idea of
God would be what the Epicureans deem it — a mere
idle and empty notion. I believe Benecke was first led
to think well of me by hearing me observe, what I said
without any notion of his opinions, that an immortality
a parte post supposed a like immortality a parte ante ;
and that I could not conceive of the creation in time
of an imperishable immortal being.

September I2,th. — I rode to London. During the ride
I was strikingly reminded of the great improvement
of the country within thirty or forty years. An old
man, on the box, pointed out to me a spot near a
bridge on the road, where about forty years ago the
stage was turned over and seven people drowned ; and
he assured me that, when he was a boy, the road beyond
Hounslow was literally lined with gibbets, on which
were, in irons, the carcases of malefactors blackening in
the sun. I found London all full of people, collected
to receive Hunt* in triumph, and accompany him to
the Crown and Anchor to a dinner, — a mere rabble,
certainly, but it is a great and alarming evil that the

• " Orator" Hunt, the Radical, afterwards M.P. for Preston.

Flaxman on Canova.

133

rabble should be the leaders in anything. I hear that
when, in the evening, Hunt came, the crowds were
immense, and flags were waved over him with ^^ Liberty
or Death " inscribed.

September 22nd. — I called on Talfourd for a short
time. I dined with Collier and then hastened to Flax-
man's. I had a very pleasant chat with him and Miss
Denman.* He related an interesting anecdote of
Canova. He had breakfasted with Canova at, I
believe, Mr. Hope's, and then examined with him the
marbles and antiques. Among them was a beautiful
bust of Antoninus Pius. Flaxman pointed it out to
Canova, on which Canova, without answering him,
muttered to himself, with gesticulations of impatience,
" I told him so, — I told him so, — but he would never
take counsel." This was repeated several times in a fit
of absence. At length Flaxman tapped him on the
shoulder and said, "Whom did you tell so.-*" Of
course, the conversation was in Italian. Receiving no
reply, Flaxman pressed the question, " Why, Buona-
parte," said he. " I observed to him repeatedly that the
busts of Antoninus Pius were to be seen everywhere ;
they were to be found in every part of Italy in great
abundance, he had made himself so beloved. But he
would take no advice." — " And did you expect him to
take any } " said Flaxman. Canova could not say that
he did, but stated that the courtiers of Buonaparte were
often astonished at the freedoms he took.

Rein.'f — Flaxman always spoke of Canova as a man

* Miss Denman was Mrs. Flaxman's sister, and Flaxman's adopted daughter,
by whom the Flaxman Gallery at University College was founded.
t Written in 1851.

Chap. iv.
1819.

Canova.

Canova and
Buona-
parte.

Flaxman
on Canova,

134

Carlile tried

Chap. iv.
1819.

Seals used
in Persia.

Carlile

tried/or

blasphemy.

of great moral qualities, of which I believe he thought
more highly than of his character as an artist.

October 2nd. — Colonel D'Arcy was at Masquerier's
this evening — a very agreeable man, who has been some
years in Persia. He explained to us the meaning of the
signets so often mentioned in the Bible and Oriental
writings. In Persia every man has three seals ; a large
one, with which he testifies his messages to an inferior ;
a small one, sent to a superior ; and a middle-sized, for
an equal. Every man has about him an Indian-ink pre-
paration, and instead of signing his name, he sends an
impression of his seal, as a proof that the messenger
comes from him. Colonel D'Arcy speaks Persian
fluently. He says it is a simple and easy language, as
spoken, but the written language is blended with the
Arabic, and is made complex and difficult.

October 12th. — I took an early breakfast, and a little
after nine was in the King's Bench, Guildhall. There
was a vast crowd already assembled to hear the trial of
Carlile for blasphemy, which had attracted my curiosity
also. The prosecution was for republishing Paine's
" Age of Reason." The Attorney-General opened the
case in an ordinary way. His pathos did not seem to
flow from him, and his remarks were neither striking
nor original. Carlile is a pale-faced, flat-nosed man,
not unlike Schelling, but having no intellectual resem-
blance ; though he has shown astonishing powers of
voice, and a faculty of enduring fatigue that is far more
wonderful than enviable. He does not appear in any
respect a man of mind or originality. His exordium
was an hour long, and was a mere rhapsodical defence.

for Blasphemy.

135

His chief argument was derived from the late Trinity
Bill,* which, said he, authorizes any one to attack the
Trinity ; and there being no statute law to declare what
may not be attacked, anything may. He attacked the
Attorney-General -f as an ex-Unitarian, and was both
pert and insolent in the matter, though not in the
manner. He then set about reading the " Age of
Reason" through, and therefore I left him.

October I'^th. — I lounged for half an hour into Guild-
hall. I found Carlile on his legs : he had been speaking
without interruption from half-past nine, and I heard
him at half-past six, with no apparent diminution of
force ; but he merely read from paper, and what he said
seemed very little to the purpose. He attempted a
parallel between his case and Luther's, and asserted the
right to preach Deism. I see no reason why he should
not go on for a month in the same style.

October 14///. — I would have walked with H to

hear some part of Carlile's trial, but it was just over.
The man had been speaking for near three days, and
this will be regarded by many people, I have no doubt,
as a proof of great talent. He was, however, convicted,
to my great satisfaction.

October 2/^th. — (At Bury.) I heard Mr. Fenner preach
in the forenoon to about twenty persons. How our
sensations influence our thoughts ! The meeting-house
striking my eye, and the voice of my old preceptor
striking my ear, I was made serious, and almost

melancholy.

• " An Act to relieve Persons who impugn the Doctrine of the Holy Trinity
from certain Penalties." This was commonly called Mr. William Smith's Act.

t Gifford. See p. 49.

Chap. iv.
1819.

136

Chambers in Kin^s Bench Walk.

Chap. iv.

1 8 19.

New
chambers.

Flax -man.

His piety
and con-
tentment.

November loth. — I went early to Serjeant Frere's
chambers, 3, King's Bench Walk, and agreed for a four-
teen years' lease of them from next midsummer, at
seventy-five guineas per annum. These chambers consist
of one tolerably-sized room ; a second, which by pulling
down a partition may be made into a very comfortable
room ; and a third small room, which may be used
by a clerk : three fireplaces. Between the two larger
rooms is a small room, large enough to place a bed
in, and convenient for that purpose : there is also a
dark place, in which a bed has been placed for Frere's
clerk and his wife, besides one or two lock-up places.
The chambers, without being excellent, are yet good for
their price, and I am pleased at the idea of occupying
them. They are quite light, and look into a garden, and
the staircase is handsome, compared with my present
one.

December yth. — I dined at the Colliers', and then took
tea with Flaxman tete-a-tete. He makes religion most
amiable and respectable at the same time. A childlike
faith is delightful in a man of distinguished genius. He
spoke of his fortune, and without ostentation he said he
had by God's providence prospered ; but he must add
(what he would say to few but me), that no man who
had worked for him had been in want, when sick or
dying.

Rem.* — When Flaxman died, his effects were sworn
to be worth under ;^ 4,000 ; and I have been in the
habit of citing his comparative poverty as a disgrace to
the country ; for while he died worth j^ 4,000, Chantrey

* Written in 1851.

The " Six Acts."

^37

died worth above ;^ 15 0,000. Such is the different re-
ward for genius and useful talent !

December <^th. — The bills now passing through Par-
liament will be, I fear, sad monuments of the in-
temperance of the Government and people. Reformers
and Ministry alike exaggerate the alarm justly to be
feared from the excesses of their adversary, and in so
doing furnish a reasonable ground for a moderated
apprehension. There are a few seditious spirits in the
country who would raise a rebellion if they could, but
they cannot ; and there are some among the Ministry,
perhaps, who would not scruple to give the Crown
powers fatal to the liberties of the people. But neither
the courts of law nor the people (who as jurymen con-
cur in the administration of the law) would assist in a
project destructive of liberty ; nor would the Ministry
themselves dare make a violent attempt. At the same
time, the " Six Acts" are objectionable.*

• " Papers were laid before Parliament containing evidence of the state of
the country, which were immediately followed by the introduction of further
measures of repression — then designated, and since familiarly known as, the
' Six Acts.' The first deprived defendants, in cases of misdemeanour, of the
right of traversing : to which Lord Holland induced the Chancellor to add a
clause, obliging the Attorney-General to bring defendants to trial within twelve
months. By a second it was proposed to enable the court, on the conviction of
a publisher of a seditious libel, to order the seizure of all copies of the Ubel in
his possession ; and to punish him, on a second conviction, with fine, imprison-
ment, banishment, or transportation. By a third, the newspaper stamp duty
was imposed upon pamphlets and other papers containing news, or observations
on public affeirs; and recognizances were required from the publishers of
newspapers and pamphlets for the payment of any penalty. By a fourth, no
meeting of more than fifty persons was permitted to be held without six days*
notice being given by seven householders to a resident justice of the peace ;
and all but freeholders or inhabitants of the county, parish, or township, were
prohibited from attending, under penalty of fine and imprisonment. The
justice could change the proposed time and place of meeting: but no meeting

Chap, iv.

1819.

The Reform
qziestion.

IS8

A Libel by H. C. R.

Chap. iv.

1819.

A libel by
H.C.R. in
the Times.

Covent
Garden.

Miss

Stephens,

Liston, and

Farren.

December i$th. — I spent this forenoon, like too many
of the preceding, loungingly, I called on Walter, after
being at the Book Auction. He^informed me of what
I never knew before, that the Times was prosecuted
once for a libel of my writing ; but the prosecution
was dropped. He did not inform me of the circum-
stance at the time, thinking, probably, the intelligence
would pain me. I do not know whether I am to con-
sider this an honour or not, as I am ignorant whether
the libel was an observation on, or the misstatement of,
a fact.

December i^th. — I dined at Collier's, and then went
to Covent Garden. I had rather more pleasure than
usual. The "Comedy of Errors" is better to see than
read : besides, a number of good songs by Miss Stephens*
and others are introduced. The two Dromios, Liston
and Farren, though not sufficiently alike (nor did they
strive to be so, for neither would adopt the other's
peculiarities), afforded amusement, and the incidents,
barring the improbability, pass off pleasantly enough.
Some fine scenery is introduced, though out of character

was permitted to adjourn itself. Every meeting tending to incite the people to
hatred and contempt of the King's person or the government and constitution
of the realm was declared an unlawful assembly ; and extraordinary powers
were given to justices for the dispersion of such meetings and the capture of
persons addressing them. If any person should be killed or injured in the
dispersion of an unlawful meeting, the justice was indemnified. Attending a
meeting with arms, or with flags, banners, or other ensigns or emblems, was an
offence punishable with two years' imprisonment. Lecture and debating rooms
were to be licensed, and open to inspection. By a fifth, the training of persons
in the use of arms was prohibited ; and by a sixth, the magistrates in the
disturbed counties were empowered to search for and seize arms." — May's
Constitutional History, Vol. II. 199, 200.
* Afterwards Countess -of Essex.

TJie New Chambers.

139

and costume. The scene is in Ephesus, and yet one of
the paintings is the Piazza of Venice, &c.

December 25/*/^.— Christmas Day. I spent this festival
not in feasting, but very agreeably, for, like a child, I
was delighted in contemplating my new toy. I was the
whole forenoon occupied, after writing some of the
preceding Mems., in collecting books, &c., in my old, and
in arranging them in my new, chambers. The putting
in order is a delightful occupation, and is at least
analogous to a virtue. Virtue is the love of moral
order ; and taste, and cleanliness, and method are all
connected with the satisfaction we have in seeing and
putting things where they ought to be.

December 26th. — I read the trial of Sir Thomas
More. It is quite astonishing that the understanding
and the courage of men could be so debased as they
appear to have been in the reign of Henry VIII. I
doubt whether the legislation of any other country
has an instance of an enormity so gross and absurd as
that of rendering it a capital offence to refuse answering
a question : yet for this offence the Lord Chancellor
was put to death, — a man of incorruptible integrity, — a
martyr. Yet he was himself a persecutor, having
superintended the infliction of torture.

I am at length settled in my new chambers, and though
my books are not yet put in order, I have a comfortable
fire, and a far more pleasing scene from my window and
within my room than I had in my former apartments.

December 2^tk. — ^The satisfaction I have in changing
my residence is accompanied by the serious reflection
that I cannot reasonably expect so much enjoyment, and

Chap. iv.
1 8 19.

Chambers
and books.

Trial of

Sir Thomas

More.

New
chambers^

retrospect.

I40

Annual Retrospect.

Chap. iv.
1819.

such uninterrupted ease, as I enjoyed in Essex Court.
During my six years' residence there I have not once
been kept awake at night by pain of mind or body, nor
have I ever sat down to a meal without an appetite.
My income is now much larger than it was when I
entered those chambers, and my health is apparently as
firm. I have lost no one source of felicity. I have made
accessions to my stock of agreeable companions, if not
friends. I have risen in respectability, by having
succeeded to a certain extent in my profession, though
perhaps not so greatly as some of my friends expected.
But then I have grown six years older, and human life
is so short, that this is a large portion. This reflection,
I say, is a serious one, but it does not sadden me.

Rem*" — Let me add merely this — that I believe I
could have written the same in 1829.-J- We shall see, if
I go so far in these Reminiscences. This year I took
no journey.

* Written in 1 85 1.

f The first year after H. C. R.'s retirement from the Bar.

Elton Hamond.

141

CHAPTER V.

On Elton Hamond [with note].

1820.

January ist. — No New Year ever opened to me with
an event so tragical as that which occurred this morn-
ing. Nor indeed has my journal contained any incident
so melancholy.

I had scarcely begun my breakfast, when two men,
plain in dress but respectable in appearance, called on
me, and one of them said, in a very solemn tone, " Pray,
sir, do you know a Mr. Elton Hamond?" — "Yes, ver>-
well." — "Was he a particular friend of yours .-'" My
answer was, " He has destroyed himself."

Re7n* — I have heretofore omitted to write of Hamond,
postponing till this awful catastrophe all I have to say
of him. He was born in 1786, and was the eldest of
two sons of a tea-dealer, who lived in the City. He
had also sisters. His father died in 1807, leaving
him sole executor; and being the eldest, — at least of
the sons, — and a man of imposing and ingratiating
manners, he was looked up to by his family. I became
acquainted with him through the Aikins — I cannot say
precisely when, but soon after my return from Germany.
His elder sister lived many years with Mrs. Barbauld.

• Written in 1851.

Chap. v.
1820.

Death of
Hamond.

Hamond s
early life.

142

Hamond's Self-Idolatry :

Ghap. v.

1820,

H. C. R.'s

acqiiaint-
ance with
Hatnond.

Hamond s
character.

Hamond's
belief that
he was to be
the greatest
, of men.

When I first visited him he lived in Milk Street, where
his father had carried on the business. Some time
afterwards Hamond told me that in order to set an
example to the world of how a business should be
carried on, and that he might not be interfered with in
his plans, he turned off the clerks and every servant
in the establishment, including the porter, and I rather
think the cook. There could be but one result. The
business soon had to be given up. His perfect integrity-
no one doubted. Indeed, his character may be regarded
as almost faultless, with the exception of those extra-
vagances which may not unreasonably be set down to
the account of insanity. When he was satisfied that he
was right, he had such an overweening sense of his own
judgment, that he expected every one to submit to
his decision ; and when this did not take place, he was
apt to consider the disobedience as criminal. On this
account he broke off acquaintance with his family and
nearly all his friends.

I have only to relate some illustrations, which will be
found curious, of this unhappy state of mind. When
he was about eleven years old, he said to his sister,
" Sister Harriet, who is the greatest man that ever-
lived.?" She said, "Jesus Christ." He replied, "No;
bad answer, — but I shall be greater than Jesus Christ."
His after-misery lay in this, that while he had a convic-
tion that he was to have been, and ought to have been^
the greatest of men, he was conscious that in fact he
was not. And the reason assigned by him for putting
an end to his life was, that he could not condescend to
live without fulfilling his proper vocation.

his Friends.

143

His malady lay in a diseased endeavour to obey the
injunction, " Nosce teipsum." He was for ever writing
about himself. Hundreds of quarto pages do I possess,
all full of himself and of his judgment respecting his
friends. And he felt it to be his duty to make his un-
favourable opinion known to the friends themselves, in
a way which, save for the knowledge of his infirmity,
would have been very offensive.*

In the anxious pursuit of self-improvement, he sought
the acquaintance of eminent men, among whom were
Jeremy Bentham and his brother, General Bentham,
James Mill, the historian of India, and Sir Stamford
Raffles, governor of Java. On Sir Stamford he made
a demand of the most ridiculous kind, maintaining that
as Sir Stamford owed everything to his father, he (Sir
Stamford) was morally bound to give Hamond one-half
of what he acquired in his office as Governor. Sir
Stamford gave him an order on his banker for ^i,cx)0,
which Hamond disdained to take. He went to Scotland
and made the acquaintance of Dugald Stewart. The
eminent philosopher and professor wisely advised him

• As an instance of the sort of authority he assumed over his friends, I may
mention that, when the reduction of the 5 per cent, stock to 4J was in con-
templation, I had entertained an opinion in favour of the reduction, on which
we had some discussion. In a few days he wrote me a letter, saying that he
deemed my opinion so mischievous, that, if I gave any publicity to it, he should
be obliged to renounce my further acquaintance. I replied that I honoured
the firmness with which on all occasions he did what he deemed right, regard-
less of all consequences to himself, but that he must allow me to follow his
example, and acton my own sense of right — not his; and that, in consequence,
I had that morning sent a letter to the Times in support of my opinion.
Whether the letter appeared I do not know ; but, at all events, what I wrote to
Hamond had its just weight. He took no offence at my resistance. Nor
was he offended at the course I took on account of my suspicion of his intention
to destroy himself.

Ghap. v.
;82o.

Jeremy

Bentham,

b-c.

Dugald
Stewart.

144

Hamond^s Habits.

Chap. v.
1820.

The Chief
Baron
Pollock.

to think nothing about himself, which poor Elton most
characteristically misinterpreted. He wrote in his
diary : " I do think nothing of myself — I know that I
am nothing." That this was his sincere opinion is
shown in a letter, in which, recommending his own
papers to Southey's careful perusal, with a view to pub-
lication, he says, " You will see in them the writings
of a man who was in fact nothing, but who was near
becoming the greatest that ever lived." This was the
mad thought that haunted him. After he left Milk
Street, he took a house at Hampstead, where his
younger sister lived with him.

At the time of my first acquaintance, or growing
intimacy with Hamond, Frederick Pollock, now the
Lord Chief Baron, was his friend. There was no
jealousy in Hamond's nature, and he loved Pollock the
more as he rose in reputation. He wrote in his journal :
" How my heart burned when I read of the high degree
taken by Pollock at Cambridge !" *

In 18 1 8 I visited him at Norwood, where I found
him lodging in a cottage, and with no other occupation
than the dangerous one of meditation on himself. He
journalized his food, his sleep, his dreams. His society
consisted of little children, whom he was fond of talking
to. From a suspicion that had forced itself on my
mind, I gave him notice that if Jie destroyed himself, I
should consider myself released from my undertaking to
act as his trustee. I think it probable that this caused
him to live longer than he would otherwise have done.
It also occasioned his application to Southey to take
* He was Senior Wrangler.

Hamond's Characteristics.

145

charge of his papers. One of Southey's letters to him
was printed in the poet's Hfe ; unfortunately, I cannot
find the other.* To Anthony Robinson, to whom I had
introduced him, Hamond said that he was on the point
of making a discovery, which would put an end to
physical and moral evil in the world.

In justice to his memory, and that no one who reads
this may misapprehend his character, I ought not to omit
adding, that his overweening sense of his own powers
had not the effect which might have been expected on
his demeanour to the world at large. He was habitually
humble and shy, towards inferiors especially. He
quarrelled once with a friend (Pollock) -f- for not being
willing to join him in carrying a heavy box through the
streets of London for a poor woman. His generous offer
of an annuity to W. Taylor,^ when he was reduced in
circumstances, has been made known in the Life of
Taylor. Reference has already been made (p. 42,
Vol. n.) to his refusal of a private secretaryship to a

* The other has been found among H. C. R.'s papers ; and both are con-
tained in the Note to this chapter.

■j- The name has been given by Sir Frederick Pollock himself, who has kindly
looked through this chapter in proof, and stated some details. The woman's
burden was a large tray to be carried from Blackfriars' Bridge to the Obelisk.
" It was on a Sunday, I think, just after morning church. I offered to join in
" paying one or two f)orters to help the woman, but what he insisted on was
" that we should ourselves do it." Sir Frederick adds : " Hamond had in the
"highest degiree one mark of insanity, viz. an utter disregard of the opinion
" of all the rest of the world on any point on which he had made up his own
" mind. He was once on the Grand Jury at the Old Bailey, and presented as
"from himself alone (all the rest of the jury dissenting) the manner in which
" the witnesses were sworn. I was present, and became from that moment
" satisfied that he was insane." "Hamond's case is worth recording; it was
" not a commonplace malady."

X Of Nor\vich. Vide "Memoir of William Taylor of Norwich," Vol. II.
P- 357.

VOL. II. L

Chap. v.
1820.

Hamond's

conduct and

character.

146

Coroner^ s Inquest.

Chap, v
1820,

The
inquest.

colonial chief justice, on the ground of the obligation
involved to tell a lie and write a lie every day,
subscribing himself the humble servant of people
he did not serve, and towards whom he felt no
humility. Various eligible offers were made to him,
but rejected for reasons which made it too probable
that he could be brought to consent to nothing.
The impractical notions he had of veracity are shown
in an inscription written by him for his father's
tombstone. He objected to the date 18 — , because,
unless it was added, of the Christian era, no one
could know in which era his father had lived. His
grossest absurdities, however, had often a basis of truth,
which it was not difficult to detect, I conclude, for the
present, with a sentiment that leaves an impression of
kindness mingled with pity : — " Had I two thousand a
year, I would give one hall for birds and flowers,"

On the 4th of January the coroner's inquest was held ;
Pollock and I attended. We did not, however, offer
ourselves as witnesses, not being so ready as others
were to declare our conviction that Elton Hamond was
insane. To those who think, this is always a difficult
question, and that because the question of sane or in-
sane must always be considered with a special reference
to the relation in which the character, as well as the act,
is viewed.

The neighbours very sincerely declared their belief
in Hamond's insanity, and related anecdotes of absur-
dities that would not have weighed with wise men. We
did not fear the result, and were surprised when the
coroner came to us and said, " The jury say they have

Verdict.

no doubt this poor gentleman was insane, but they have
heard there was a letter addressed to them, and they
insist on seeing it." On this I went into the room, and
told the jury that I had removed the letter, in order
that they should not see it. This at first seemed to
offend them, but I further said that I had done this
without having read the letter. It had been sealed and
given to relations, who would certainly destroy it rather
than allow it to be made public. I informed them of
the fact that a sister of Mr. Hamond had died in an
asylum, and mentioned that his insanity manifested
itself in a morbid hostility towards some of his rela-
tions. I reminded them of the probability that any
letter of the kind, if read in public, would be soon in
the papers ; and I put it to them, as a serious question,
what their feelings would be if in a few days they
heard of another act . of suicide. The words were
scarcely out of my mouth before there was a cry
from several of the jury, " We do not wish to see it."
And ultimately the verdict of insanity was recorded.
The coroner supported me in my refusal to produce the
letter.

.Gooch directed a cast of Hamond's face to be taken.
It was one of the handsomest faces I ever saw in a cast.
Afterwards it was given to me, and I gave it to
Hamond's sister, Harriet. The same man who took this
mask, an Italian, Gravelli, took a mask of a living
friend, who complained of it as unsatisfactory. It was,
in truth, not prepossessing. The Italian pettishly said,
" You should be dead ! — you should be dead ! "

Chap. v.
1820.

Casta/

Hamond's

face.

L 2

148

Southey on Hamond.

Chap. v.
1820.

Southey to H. C. R.

My dear Sir,

I shall not easily get your letter out of my
thought. Some years ago I dined with E. H. at
Gooch's, and perfectly remember his quiet melancholy
and meditative manner. The two letters which he
addressed to me respecting his papers were very ably
written, and excited in me a strong interest. Of course,
I had no suspicion who the writer could be ; but if I
had endeavoured to trace him (which probably would
have been done had I been in town), Gooch is the
person whom I should have thought most likely to have
helped me in the inquiry.

The school which you indicate is an unhappy one. I
remember seeing a purblind man at Yarmouth two-
and-twenty years ago, who seemed to carry with him
a contagion of such opinions wherever he went. Per-
haps you may have known him. The morbific matter
was continually oozing out of him, and where it passes
off in this way, or can be exploded in paradoxes and
freaks of intellect, as by William Taylor, the destructive
effect upon the heart is lessened or postponed. But
when it meets with strong feeling, and an introspective
introactive mind, the Aqua Toffana is not more deadly.

Respecting the papers, I can only say, at present, that
I will do nothing with them that can be injurious either
to the dead or the living. When I receive any applica-
tion upon the subject, I shall desire them to be deposited
at my brother's, to await my arrival in town, where I.
expect to be early in March, and to continue about
two months, some ten days excepted ; and it is

The Story worthy of Record.

149

better that they should be in London, where I can
consult with you. You will see by the letter to me
(which I will take with me to town) what his wishes
were. Consistently with these wishes, with his honour,
and with the feelings of his friends, I hope it may be
possible to record this melancholy case for wholesome
instruction. He says to me, — "You may perhaps find
an interest in making a fair statement of opinions which
you condemn, when quite at liberty, as you would be in
this case, to controvert them in the same page. I desire
no 'gilt frame for my picture, and if by the side of it
you like to draw another, and call mine a Satyr and
yourjown Hyperion, you are welcome. A true light is
all that I require — a strong light all that I wish."

Having no suspicion of his intentions, I supposed
him to be in the last stage of some incurable disease,
and addressed him as one upon the brink of the grave.
If one of the pencil readings which you have tran-
scribed were written since February last, it would show
that my last letter had made some impression upon
him, for I had assured him of my belief in ghosts, and
rested upon it as one proof of a future state. There
was not the slightest indication of insanity in his annun-
ciation to me, and there was an expression of humility,
under which I should never have suspected that so very
different a feeling was concealed. God help us ! frail
creatures that we are.

As my second letter was not noticed by him, I had
supposed that it was received with displeasure, and
perhaps with contempt. It rather surprises me, there-
fore, that he should have retained the intention of com- 1

Chap, v,
1820.

ISO

Hamond's Papers.

Chap. v.
1820.

Southey

and

Hamond's

papers.

mitting his papers to my disposal, little desirous as I
was of the charge. Nevertheless, I will execute it
faithfully ; and the best proof that I can give of a
proper feeling upon the subject, is to do nothing with-
out consulting you.

Believe me, dear Sir,

Yours with much esteem,

Robert Southey.
Kesiuick, Janitary 20.

Southey came to me in the March of this year, when
he visited London. I soon satisfied him that the MSS.
had no literary value, and he willingly resigned them to
me.* In May of this year I wrote : " The more I read,
the more I am convinced that they contain nothing
which can benefit the world. They are not valuable
either as works of art or as discoveries of truth.-f* They
are merely manifestations of an individual mind, re-
vealing its weaknesses." Yet I must qualify this by
saying that Hamond wrote with feeling, and, being in
earnest, there was an attractive grace in his style. But
it raised an expectation which he could not fulfil.
Southey appears to have formed a high opinion of him ;
he was, however, not aware that, though Hamond could
write a beautiful sentence, he was incapable of con-
tinuous thought. Some extracts from Hamond's letters
and papers I mean to annex to these Reminiscences as
pikes justificatives.

* These MSS. are now in the hands of H. C. R.'s executors. An account
of them, and some extracts, will be found in a Note to this chapter.
I t The scheme for the reformation of the world seems to consist in a number
j of moral precepts, and has in it no originality.

Extracts from. them.

151

Note.

The papers now in the hands of the executors consist of — (A), "Life.
Personal Anecdotes. Indications of Character." (B), " Letters of Farewell."
(C), " Miscellaneous Extracts." (D), " Extracts from Journal, &c." (E),
"Extracts. Scheme of Reforming the World, &c." (F), "On Education,
Character, &c." (G), " Ethics." Also various letters by E. H. and others.
Those by himself include the long one, finished only a few minutes before his
death. Among the letters from others to him, are several by Jeremy Bentham
on business matters — (1809 — 1819), and a larger number by Maria Edgeworth,
on matters of personal interest — (1808 — 181 1). As Mr. Robinson did not make
the extracts he proposed, the following are given as among the most
interesting : —

When I was about eight or ten I promised marriage to a wrinkled cook we
had, aged about sixty-five. I was convinced of the insignificance of beauty,
but really felt some considerable ease at hearing of her death about four years
after, when I began to repent my vow.

I always said that I would do anything to make another happy, and told a
boy I would give him a shilling if it would make him happy ; he said it would,
so I gave it him. It is not to be wondered at that I had plenty of such
applications, and soon emptied my purse. It is true I rather grudged the
money, because the boys laughed rather more than I wished them. But it
would have been inconsistent to have appeared dissatisfied. Some of them
were generous enough to return the money, and I was prudent enough to take
it, though I declared that if it would make them happy I should be sorry to
have it back again.

At the age of eighteen I used to amuse myself with thinking on how many
followers I could muster on a state emergency. I reckoned Abbot, Charles,
Edward Deacon, Charles Mills, H. Jeffreys, and the Millers. I was then
profuse of my presents, and indifferent to my comforts. I was shabby in my
appearance, loved to mix with the lowest mob, and was sometimes impatiently
desirous of wealth and influence. I remembered that Caesar walked carelessly
and part drunken along the streets, and I felt myself a future Cassar. The
decencies of life I laughed at. I was proud to recollect that I had always
expected to be great since I was twelve years old.

I cannot remain in society without injuring a man by the tricks of commerce,
or the force which the laws of honour sometimes require. I must quit it. I
would rather undergo twice the danger from beasts and ten times the danger
from rocks. It is not pain, it is not death, that I dread — it is the hatred of a
man ; there is something in it so shocking that I would rather submit to any I

Chap. v.
1820.

152

Hainond's Letters.

Chap. v.
J 8 20.

injury than incur or increase the hatred of a man by revenging it ; and indeed
I think this principle is pretty general, and that, as Mr. Reynolds says, " No, I
don't want to fight, but it is to please Mr. Jenkins and Mr. Tomkins that I
must fight."

To H. C. Robinson.

Silver Street,

20 Oct. 1813.
My dear Robinson,

I leave you all my papers, with entire liberty to preserve, destroy, lend,
or publish all or any of them as you please ; you will, I know, take care that
no one suffers unjustly or improperly by anything that I have written about
him. There are passages in some of my early journals which might, I think, be
injurious to my brother in a manner that he never at all merited. Any expres-
sions injurious to I have no wish that you should conceal: in

general, I may say that I should like everybody of whom I have expressed any
opinion to be acquainted with it. Tlie chief philosophical value of my papers
(most of them utterly worthless in every other respect) I conceive to be that
they record something of a mind that was very near taking a station far above
all that have hitherto appeared in the world. Rely upon this, I am quite
certain of it, that nothing but my sister Harriet's confidence and sympathy,*
and such things as are easily procured, w-as wanting to enable me to fulfil my
early and frequent vow to be the greatest man that had ever lived. I never
till last May saw my course clearly, and then all that I wanted to qualify me for
it I was refused. I leave my skull to any craniologist that you can prevail
upon to keep it. Farewell ! my dear friend ; you have thought more justly
of me than anybody has ; maintain your sentiments; once more, farewell! I
embrace you with all my heart.

E. Hamond.

yune zgtk, 1817. — It is provoking that the secret of rendering man perfect
in wisdom, power, virtue, and happiness should die with me. I never till this
moment doubted that some other person would discover it, but I now recollect
that, when I have relied on others, I have always been disappointed. Perhaps
none may ever discover it, and the human race has lost its only chance of
eternal happiness.

Another sufficient reason for suicide is, that I was this morning out of temper
with Mrs. Douglas (for no fault of hers). I did not betray myself in the least,

* She would have been willing to devote her life to him, but he required that
she should implicitly adopt his opinions. — H. C. R.

Soiithey to Hamond.

153

but I reflected that to be exposed to |the possibility of such an event once a
year was evil enough to render life intolerable. The disgrace of using an
impatient word is to me overpowering.

A most sufficient reason for dying is, that if I had to write to Sir John
Lubbock or Mr. Davey, I should be obliged to begin "Dear Sir," or else be
very uncomfortable about the consequences, I am obliged to compromise with
vice. At present (this is another matter), I must either become less sensible to
the odiousness of vice, or be entirely unfit for all the active duties of life.
Religion does but imperfectly help a man out of this dilemma.

SouTHEY TO Elton Hamond.

oj Keswick, 5 Febry. 18 19.

I lose no time in repljdng to your extraordinary letter. If, as you say,
the language of your papers would require to be recast, it is altogether im-
possible for me to afford time for such an undertaking. But the style of your
letter leads me to distrust your opinion upon this point ; and if the papers are
written with equal perspicuity, any change which they might undergo from
another hand would be to their injury. It appears, therefore, to me that they
would only require selection and arrangement.

Now, sir, it so happens that I have works in preparation of great magnitude,
and (unless I deceive myself) of proportionate importance. And there must be
many persons capable of preparing your manuscripts for the press, who have
time to spare, and would be happy in obtaining such an employment. There
may possibly also be another reason why another person may better be applied
to on this occasion. The difference between your opinions and mine might be
so great, that I could not with satisfaction or propriety become the means of
introducing yours to the public. This would be the case if your reasonings
tended to confound the distinctions between right and wrong, or to shake the
foundations of religious belief. And yet I think that if there had been a great
gulph between us you would hardly have thought of making me your editor.
Indeed, if there had not been something in your letter which seems to make it
probable that I should feel a Uvely interest in the transcript of your thoughts
and feelings, my answer would have been brief and decisive.

I should like to see a specimen of the papers, such as might enable me to
form a judgment of them ; more than this I cannot say at present. I cannot
but admire the temper of your letter. You are looking wisely and calmly
toward the grave ; allow me to add a fervent hope that you may also be looking
with confidence and joy beyond it.

Believe me, Sir,

Yours with respect,

Robert Southey.

Chap. v.
1820.

154

Soiithcy to Hamond.

Chap. v.
1820.

SouTHEY TO Elton Hamond.

Keswick, 2 March, 18 19.

Your letter, my dear sir, affects me greatly. It represents a state of mind
into which I also should have fallen had it not been for that support which
you are not disposed to think necessary for the soul of man. I, too, identified
my own hopes with hopes for mankind, and at the price of any self-sacrifice would
have promoted the good of my fellow-creatures. I, too, have been disappointed,
in being undeceived ; but having learnt to temper hope with patience, and when
I lift up my spirit to its Creator and Redeemer, to say, not with the lips alone
but with the heart. Thy will be done, I feel that whatever afflictions I have
endured have been dispensed to me in mercy, and am deeply and devoutly
thankful for what I am, and what I am to be when I shall burst my shell.

0 sir ! religion is the one thing needful — without it no one can be truly
happy (do you not /eel this ?) : with it no one can be entirely miserable. Without
it, this world would be a mystery too dreadful to be borne, our best affections
and our noblest desires a mere juggle and a curse, and it were better, indeed,
to be nothing than the things we are. I am no bigot. I believe that men will
be judged by their actions and intentions, not their creeds. I am a Christian,
and so will Turk, Jew and Gentile be in Heaven, if they have lived well
according to the light which was vouchsafed them. I do not fear that there
will be a great gulph between you and me in the world which we must both
enter ; but if I could persuade you to look on towards that world with the eyes
of faith, a change would be operated in all your views and feelings, and hope
and joy and love would be with you to your last breath— universal love — love for
mankind, and for the Universal Father into whose hands you are about to
render up your spirit.

That the natural world by its perfect order displays evident marks of design,
I think you would readily admit ; for it is so palpable, that it can only be dis-
puted from perverseness or affectation. Is it not reasonable to suppose that
the moral order of things should in like manner be coherent and harmonious ?
It is so, if there be a state of retribution after death. If that be granted, every
thing becomes intelligible, just, beautiful, and good. Would you not, from the
sense of fitness and of justice, wish that it should be so ? And is there not
enough of wisdom and of power apparent in the creation to authorize us in
inferring, that whatever upon the grand scale would be best, therefore must
be ? Pursue this feeUng, and it will lead you to the Cross of Christ.

1 never fear to avow my belief that warnings from the other world are some-
times communicated to us in this, and that absurd as the stories of apparitions
generally are, they are not always false, but that the spirits of the dead have
sometimes been permitted to appear. I believe this because I cannot refuse
my assent to the evidence which exists of such things, and to the universal
consent of all men who have not learnt to think otherwise. Perhaps you will
not despise this as a mere superstition when I say that Kant, the profoundest

Hamond's Farewell Letters.

155

thinker of modem ages, came by the severest reasoning to the same conclu-
sion. But if these things are, there is a state after death ; — and if there be a
state after death, it is reasonable to presume that such things should be.

You will receive this as it is meant. It is hastily and earnestly written — in
perfect sincerity — in the fulness of my heart. Would to God that it might
find the way to yours ! In case of your recovery, it would reconcile you to life,
and open to you sources of happiness 10 which you are a stranger.

But whether yoiu" lot be for life or death — dear sir, —

God bless you !

Robert Southey.

To Joseph

Norwood, y.st December, 7 o'clock, 1819,
My dear Joseph,

I fear that my late letters have offended and perplexed you ; but I am
convinced you will forgive all that you have thought amiss in them, and in the
author of them, when you are told that he is — don't be shock'd, my dear
Joseph — no more. I am somewhat disturbed, while I think of the pain which
this may give you, as I shed tears over my poverty when I saw Pollock cry
about it, although it was not, neither is the present moment, painful to me. I
have enjoyed my dinner, and been saying "good-bye" to my poor acquaint-
ance as I met them, and running along by moonlight to put a letter in the
Post-office, and shall be comfortable — not to say merry — to the laet, if I don't
oppress myself with farewell letters, of which I have several still to write. I
have much indeed to be grateful to you for, but I dare not give way to tender
feelings.

Your letters, as you know, will be offered to Southey, with all my other papers,
to do the best he can and chooses with. ......

Good-bye to you !
E. H.

To H. C. R. UNDER the Name of Roviso.

Norwood, 31 Dec. 1819.

(8 o'clock in the evening.^
Dear Roviso,

I am stupified with writing, and yet I cannot go my long journey with-
out taking leave of one from whom I have received so much kindness, and from
whose society so much delight. My place is booked for a passage in Charon's
boat to-night at twelve. Diana kindly consents to be of the party. This
is handsome of her. She was not looked for on my part. Perhaps she is
willing to acknowledge my obedience to her laws by a genteel compliment.
Good. The gods, then, are grateful. Let me imitate their example, and thank
you for the long, long list of kind actions that I know of, and many more
which I don't know of, but believe without knowing.

Go on — be as merry as you can. If you can be reUgious, good; but don't

Chap, v,
1820.

156

Hamoiid to the

Chap. v.
1820.

sink the man in the Christian. Bear in mind what you know to be the just
rights of a fellow-creature, and don't play the courtier by sacrificing your
fellow-subjects to the imaginary King of heaven and earth. I say imaginary —
because he is known only by the imagination. He may have a real existence.
I would rather he had. I have very little hopes of my own future fate, but I
have less fear. In truth, I give myself no concern about it — why should I ?
why fumble all through the dictionary for a word that is not there ?

But I have some more good-byes to say.

I have left a speech for the gentlemen of the inquest. Perhaps the driver of
the coach may be able to tell you what is going on. On Monday my landlord,
Mr. Williams, of the Secretary's Office, E. I. House, will probably be in town
at a little after nine. Mind you don't get yourself into a scrape by making an
over-zealous speech if you attend as my counsel. You may say throughout,
" The culprit's defence is this." Bear in mind, that I had rather be thrown in
a ditch than have a disingenuous defence made.

I take the liberty of troubling you with the enclosed. The request it con-
tains is the last trouble I shall ask of you. Once more, good-bye !

Yours gratefully and affectionately,

Elton Hamond.

To THE Coroner and the Gentlemen who will sit on my Body.

Norwood, ■^xst Deer. 18 19.
Gentlemen,

To the charge of self-murder I plead not guilty. For there is no guilt
in what I have done. Self-murder is a contradiction in terms. If the King
who retires from his throne is guilty of high treason ; if the man who takes
money out of his own coffers and spends it is a thief; if he who burns his
own hayrick is guilty of arson ; or he who scourges himself of assault and
battery, then he who throws up his own life may be guilty of murder,— if not,
not.

If anything is a man's own, it is surely his life. Far, however, be it from
me to say that a man may do as he pleases with his own. Of all that he has
he is a steward. Kingdoms, money, harvests, are held in trust, and so, but I
think less strictly, is life itself. Life is rather the stewardship than the talent.
The King who resigns his crown to one less fit to rule is guilty, though not of
high treason ; the spendthrift is guilty, though not of theft ; the wanton burner
of his hayrick is guilty, though not of arson; the suicide who could have
performed the duties of his station is perhaps guilty, though not of murder,
not of felony. They are all guilty of neglect of duty, and all, except the
suicide, of breach of trust. But I cannot perform the duties of my station.
He who wastes his life in idleness is guilty of a breach of trust ; he who puts
an end to it resigns his trust, — a trust that was forced upon him, — a trust
which I never accepted, and probably never would have accepted. Is this

Coroner and Jury.

157

felony? I smile at the ridiculous supposition. How we came by the foolish
law which considers suicide as felony I don't know; I find no warrant for it in
Philosophy or Scripture. It is worthy of the times when heresy and apostacy
were capital offences; when offences were tried by battle, ordeal, or expurga-
tion ; when the fine for slaying a man was so many shillings, and that for slaying
an ass a few more or less.

Every old institution will find its vindicators while it remains in practice.
I am an enemy to all hasty reform, but so foolish a law as this should be put an
end to. Does it become a jtiry to disregard it ? For juries to disregard their
oaths for the sake of justice is, as you probably know, a frequent practice.
The law places them sometimes in the cruel predicament of having to choose
between perjury and injustice : whether they do right to prefer perjury, as the
less evil, I am not sure. I would rather be thrown naked into a hole in the road
than that you should act against your consciences. But if you wish to acquit
me, I cannot see that your calling my death accidental, or the effect of insanity,
would be less criminal than a jury's finding a ;^io Bank-of- England note worth
thirty-nine shillings, or premeditated slaying in a duel simple manslaughter,
both of which have been done. But should you think this too bold a course,
is it less bold to find me guilty of beingyfe/c de se when I am not guilty at all, as
there is no guilt in what I have done ? I disdain to take advantage of my situa-
tion as culprit to mislead your understandings, but if you, in your consciences,
think premeditated suicide no felony, will you, upon your oaths, convict me
of felony? Let me suggest the following verdict, as combining liberal truth
with justice : — " Died by his own hand, but not feloniously." If I have offended
God, it is for God, not you, to enquire. Especial public duties I have none.
If I have deserted any engagement in society, let the parties aggrieved consign
my name to obloquy. I have for nearly seven years been disentangling myself
from all my engagements, that I might at last be free to retire from life. I am
free to-day, and avail myself of my liberty. I cannot be a good man, and
prefer death to being a bad one — as bad as I have been and as others are.

I take my leave of you and of my country condemning you all, yet with true
honest love. What man, alive to virtue, can bear the ways of the best of you ?
Not I, you are wrong altogether. If a new and better light appears, seek it ;
in the meantime, look out for it. God bless you all !

Elton Hamond.

Chap. v.
1820.

IS'

Mrs. Flaxmmis Death.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Death of

Mrs.
Flaxman.

Madame
yestris.

Flaxman,

CHAPTER VI.

February 6th. — Mrs. Flaxman died. A woman of
great merit, and an irreparable loss to her husband.
He, a genius of the first rank, is a very child in the
concerns of life. She was a woman of strong sense,
and a woman of business too — the very wife for an artist.
Without her, he would not have been able to manage
his household affairs early in life. Now, his sister and
the youngest sister of his wife will do this for him.

February i<^th. — Went to Drury Lane for the first
time this season. I was better pleased than usual.
Though Braham is growing old, he has lost none of his
fascination in singing two or three magnificent songs in
" The Siege of Belgrade." But he shared my admiration
with a new actress, or rather singer, who will become, I
have no doubt, a great favourite with the public — a
Madame Vestris. She is by birth English, and her
articulation is not that of a foreigner ; but her looks,
walk, and gesticulations are so very French, that I
almost thought myself in some Parisian theatre. She
has great feeling and naivete in her acting, and I am
told is a capital singer. I know that she delighted
me.

March ^th. — Took tea at Flaxman's. I had not seen
him since his loss. There was an unusual tenderness in

Flaxman. — Madame de Stael.

159

his manner. He insisted on making me a present of
several books, Dante's Penitential Psalms and [a blank
in the Diary], both in Italian, and Erasmus's Dialogues,
as if he thought he might be suddenly taken away, and
wished me to have some memorial of him. The visit,
on the whole, was a comfortable one. I then sat an
hour with Miss Vardill, who related an interesting
anecdote of Madame de Stael. A country girl, the
daughter of a clergyman, had accidentally met with
an English translation of " Delphine " and " Corinne,"
which so powerfully affected her in her secluded life, as
quite to turn her brain. And hearing that Madame de
Stael was in London, she wrote to her, offering to
become her attendant or amanuensis. Madame de
Stael's secretary, in a formal answer, declined the
proposal. But her admirer was so intent on being in
her service in some way, that she came up to London,
and stayed a few days with a friend, who took her to
the great novelist, and, speaking in French, gave a hint
of the young girl's mind. Madame de Stael, with great
promptitude and kindness, administered the only
remedy that was likely to be effectual. The girl almost
threw herself at her feet, and earnestly begged to be
received by her. The Baroness very kindly, but
decidedly, remonstrated with her on the folly of her
desire. " You may think," she said, " it is an enviable
lot to travel over Europe, and see all that is most
beautiful and distinguished in the world ; but the joys
of home are more solid ; domestic life affords more
permanent happiness than any that fame can give.
You. have a father — I have none. You have a home — I

Chap. vi.
1820.

Madame de
Stael.

Anecdote.

i6o

SchlegeVs Obligations to Gibbon.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Judge
Buller.

Gibbon and
Schlegel
compared.

was led to travel because I was driven from mine. Be
content with your lot ; if you knew mine, you would
not desire it." With such admonitions she dismissed
the petitioner. The cure was complete. The young
woman returned to her father, became more steadily
industrious, and without ever speaking of her adventure
with Madame de Stael, silently profited by it. She is
now living a life of great respectability, and her friends
consider that her cure was wrought by the only hand
by which it could have been effected.

March yth. — Dined with the Judge (Graham).
Among the most eminent judges of the last generation
was Mr. Justice Buller. He and Baron Graham were
of the same standing at College, Graham said to-day,
that though Buller was a great lawyer, he was ignorant
on every subject but law. He actually believed in the
obsolete theory that our earth is the centre of the
universe.

April JtJi. — Arrived at Bury before tea. My brother
and sister were going to hear an astronomical lecture.
I stayed alone and read a chapter in Gibbon on the
early history of the Germans. Having previously read
the first two lectures of Schlegel, I had the pleasure
of comparison, and I found much in Gibbon that I
had thought original in Schlegel. Their views differ
slightly ; for the most part in the higher character
given by Schlegel to the Germans, the correctness of
which I had doubted. It seems absurd to ascribe great
effects to the enthusiastic love of nature by a people
otherwise so low in civilization. But probably he is
justified in the opinion that the Goths were to no great

Kean's Lear.

i6i

degree the bringers of barbarism. He considers them
the great agents in the renovation of society.

April 26th. — An invitation from Aders to join him
in one of the orchestra private boxes at Drury Lane.
There was novelty in the situation. The ease and
comfort of being able to stand, sit, or loll, have rather
the effect of indisposing the mind to that close
attention to the performance which is necessary to
full enjoyment. Kean delighted me much in Lear,
though the critics are not satisfied with him. His
representation of imbecile age was admirable. In the
famous imprecation scene he produced astonishing
effect by his manner of bringing out the words with the
effort of a man nearly exhausted and breathless, rather
spelling his syllables than forming them into words.
*' How sharp-er-than-a-serp-ent's-tooth-it-is," &c., &c.
His exhibition of madness was always exquisite.
Kean's defects are lost in this character, and become
almost virtues. He does not need vigour or grace as
Lear, but passion — and this never fails him. The play
was tolerably cast. Mrs. W. West is an interesting
Cordelia, though a moderate actress. And Rae is a
respectable Edgar. I alone remained of the party to
see " The King and the Miller (of Mansfield)." But I
heard scarcely any part, for the health of the King
being drunk, a fellow cried out from the shilling
gallery — " The Queen ! " The allusion was caught up,
and not a word was heard afterwards. The cries for
the health of the Queen were uttered from all quarters,
and as this demand could not be complied with, not a
syllable more of the farce was audible.

VOL. II. M

Chap. vi.
1820.

Kean as
Lear.

Popular

feeling

respecting

the Queen of

George IV.

1 62

Wordsivorth.

Chap. vr.

1820.

Words-
worth and
C. Lamb.

Peter Bell.

Haydon.

June 2nd. — At nine I went to Lamb's, where I found
Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth. Lamb was in a good
humour. He read some recent compositions, which
Wordsworth cordially praised. Wordsworth seemed to
enjoy Lamb's society. Not much was said about his
own new volume of poems. He himself spoke of
"The Brownie's Cell"* as his favourite. It appears
that he had heard of a recluse living on the island when
there himself, and afterwards of his being gone, no one
knew whither, and that this is the fact on which the
poem is founded.

June nth. — Breakfasted with Monkhouse, Mr. and
Mrs, Wordsworth there. He has resolved to make some
concessions to publip taste in " Peter Bell." Several
offensive passages will be struck out, such as, " Is it a
party in a parlour," &c., which I implored him to omit
before the book first appeared. Also the over-coarse
expressions, " But I will bang your bones," &c. I never
before saw him so ready to yield to the opinion of
others. He is improved not a little by this in my
mind. We talked of Haydon. Wordsworth wants to
have a large sum raised to enable Haydon to continue
in his profession. He wants ^2,000 for his great
picture. The gross produce of the exhibition is ;^i,200.-f'

• Vol. III. p. 44. Edition 1857.

f Haydon exhibited his great picture of " Christ's Entry into Jerusalem" at
the Egyptian Hall, in Piccadilly. It was opened to the public March 27th.
Wordsworth's face was introduced, ' ' A Bowing Head ; " also ' ' Newtoh's Face
of Belief," and "Voltaire's Sneer." The exhibition continued open till
November, by which time ;^i,S47 8j. had been received in shillings at the
doors, and ;^2i2 19^. 6d. paid for sixpenny catalogues. The picture is now in
America. During the exhibition in London a gentleman asked if ^^i, 000 would
buy it, and was told, " No." — Autobiography of Haydon, Vol. I. p. 337^

Portrait Exhibition.

163

June 19//^. — Went to the British Gallery, where a
collection of English portraits was exhibited.* Very-
interesting, both as works of art and as memorials of
eminent persons. Certainly such a gallery is calculated
to raise a passion for biography, though some of the
portraits rather tend to produce historical scepticism,
than to confirm the impressions which have been handed
down to us. Iwas really displeased to see the name of
the hated Jeffreys put to a dignified and sweet counte-
nance, that might have conferred new grace on some
delightful character. This, however, was the most
offensive violation of probability.

Jtme 21st. — After taking tea at home I called at
Monkhouse's, and spent an agreeable evening. Words-
worth was very pleasant. Indeed he is uniformly so
now. And there is absolutely no pretence for what was

* This very interesting exhibition, and the first of its kind, was opened in
May of this year at tlie British Institution, Pall Mall. It comprised 183
portraits of the most eminent historical characters, almost entirely British, "and
the catalogue, with a well-considered preface, contained biographical accounts
of the persons represented. In the year 1846 another portrait exhibition was
held at the same institution, but not with commensurate success. The pictures
then amounted to 215 in number, and the catalogue was destitute of bio-
graphical notices. A more extensive and extremely well-organized collection
of national portraits formed part of the great Art-Treasures' Exhibition at
Manchester, in 1857. These, exclusive of many choice portraits in other
departments of the Exhibition, amounted to 386. Many of these paintings
were of considerable size. These portrait gatherings have, however, been far
distanced by the successive exhibitions of national portraits, under Government
auspices, at South Kensington, which extended over the last three years, and
combined in the aggregate no fewer than 2,846 pictures. The greater part of
these portraits were of the highest authenticity, and the catalogues were
remarkable both for the conciseness and comprehensiveness of the information
which they afforded. Mr. Robinson's words in the text above have been
signally verified. The portrait of Ixsrd Chancellor Jeffreys' was painted by
Riley, and contributed by the Earl of Winchelsea. That of John, Duke of
Marlborough, was by Kneller, and contributed by the Marquis of Stafford.

M 2

Chap vi.

1820.

Exhibition
of English
portraits.

Words-
worth.

1 64

Duke of Wellington.

Chap. Vi.
.1820.

Wellington
nvd Marl-
borough.

Macready
in society.

always an exaggerated charge against him, that he
could talk only of his own poetry, and loves only his
own works. He is more indulgent than he used to be
of the works of others, even contemporaries and rivals,
and is more open to arguments in favour of changes
in his own poems. Lamb was in excellent spirits.
Talfourd came in late, and we stayed till past twelve.
Lamb was at last rather overcome, though it produced
nothing but humorous expressions of his desire to go
on the Continent. I should delight to accompany him.

Jnne 2/^th. — Took Miss Wordsworth to the British
Gallery. A second contemplation of these historic
portraits certainly adds to their effect. To-day there
was an incident which somewhat gratified me. The
Duke of Wellington was there, and I saw him looking
at the portrait of the Duke of Marlborough. A lady
was by his side. She pointed to the picture, and he
smiled. Whether the compliment was to his person or
to his military glory I cannot tell. Though Marl-
borough has the reputation of having been as dis-
tinguished in the ball-room as in the field of battle,
the portrait is neither beautiful nor interesting. The
Duke of Wellington's face is not flexible or subtle, but
it is martial, that is, sturdy and firm. I liked him in
dishabille better than in his robes at the chapel of his
palace in the Rue St. Honore.

June 271/1. — Went to Lamb's, found the Wordsworths
there, and having walked with them to Westminster
Bridge, returned to Lamb's, and sat an hour with
Macready, a very pleasing man, gentlemanly in his
manners, and sensible and well informed.

Lamb at Cambridge.

165

July Zth. — I rode early (from Hadleigh) to Needham
in a post-chaise, to be taken on by the Ipswich coach to
Bury. I had an agreeable ride, and was amused by
perusing Gray's letters on the Continent, published by
Mason.* His familiar epistolary style is quite delight-
ful, and his taste delicate without being fastidious. I
should gladly follow him anywhere, for the sake of
remarking the objects he was struck by, but I fear I
shall not have it in my power this year.

July i^th. — (At Cambridge on circuit.) After a day's
work at Huntingdon, I had just settled for the evening,
when I was agreeably surprised by a call from Miss
Lamb. I was heartily glad to see her, and accompany-
ing her to her brother's lodgings, I had a very pleasant
rubber of whist with them and a Mrs. Smith. An
acceptable relief from circuit society.

July 20th. — I had nothing to do to-day, and therefore
had leisure to accompany Lamb and his sister on a
walk among the colleges. All Lamb's enjoyments are
so pure and so hearty, that it is an enjoyment to see
him enjoy. We walked about the exquisite chapel and
the gardens of Trinity.

July ^ist, August 1st. — It is now broad daylight,
and I have not been to bed. I recollected Lord Bacon's
recommendation of occasional deviation from regular
habits, and though I feel myself very tired (after
making preparations for my journey on the Continent),
and even sleepy at half-past four, yet I shall recover, I
trust, in the course of the day.

• "Works, containing his Poems and Correspondence. To which are added,
Memoirs of his Life and Writings, by W. Mason, M.A." London, 1807. A
new edition in 1820.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Gray's
letters.

Miss Lamb.

C. Lamb at
Cambridge,

Lord
Bacon.

1 66

Swiss Tour

Chap, vi,
1820,

Swiss Tour with the Wordsworths.

Rem* — This account of my first tour in Switzerland
may not improperly be compared to the often-cited
performance of " Hamlet," with the character of Hamlet
left out. The fact being that every place in Switzerland
is known to every one, or may be, from the innumerable
books that have been published, the names are sufficient,
and I shall therefore content myself with relating the few
personal incidents of the journey, and a very few par-
ticulars about places. What I have to say will probably
disappoint the reader, who may be aware that the jour-
ney was made in the company of no less a person than
the poet Wordsworth, [If there are fewer of Words-
worth's obsei-vations than might be expected, the clue
may perhaps be in the fact stated elsewhere, that " he
was a still man when he enjoyed himself r — Ed.]

He came to London with Mrs. and Miss Wordsworth
in the month of June, partly to be present at the mar-
riage of Mrs. Wordsworth's kinsman, Mr. Monkhouse,
with Miss Horrocks, of Preston, in Lancashire, and to
accompany them in a marriage tour. I was very much
gratified by a proposal to be their companion on as
much of the journey as my circuit would permit. It
was a part of their plan to go by way of the Rhine,
and it was calculated (justly, as the event showed) that
I might, by hastening through France, reach them in
time to see with them a large portion of the beauties of
Switzerland.

Mr. Wordsworth published on his return a small
volume, entitled, " Memorials of a Tour on the Con-

* Written in 1851.

with Wordsworth.

\6f

tinent," one of the least popular of his works. Had
it appeared twenty years afterwards, when his fame
was established, the reception would have been very
different.

I left London on the 1st of August, and reached
Lyons on the 9th. On the journey I had an agree-
able companion in a young Quaker, Walduck, then
in the employ of the great Quaker chemist, Bell, of
Oxford Street. It was his first journey out of England.
He had a pleasing physiognomy, and was stanch to
his principles, but discriminating. Walking together
in one of the principal streets of Lyons, we met the
Host, with an accompanying crowd. " You must pull off
your hat, Walduck." — " I will die first ! " he exclaimed.
As I saw some low fellows scowling, and did not wish
to behold an act of martyrdom, / pulled off his hat.
Afterwards, passing by the cathedral, I said to him, " I
must leave you here, for I won't go in to be insulted."
He followed me with his hat off. "I thought you
would die first !" — " Oh, no ; here I have no business or
right to be. If the owners of this building choose to
make a foolish rule that no one shall enter with his hat,
they do what they have a legal right to do, and I must
submit to their terms. Not so in the broad highway."
The reasoning was not good, but one is not critical when
the conclusion is the right one practically. Passing the
night of the loth on the road, we reached Geneva late
on the nth. On the 13th we went to Lausanne, where
Walduck left me. On the 14th I went to Berne. I
rose before five, and saw the greater part of the town
before breakfast. It is one of the most singular places

Chap. vi.
1820.

Walduck
the Quaker.

Quaker
scruples.

Berne.

1 68

Berne.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Goddard.

I ever saw. It stands on a sort of peninsular eleva-
tion formed by the River Aare, and consists of two or
three long streets, with a few others intersecting them.
The houses are of freestone, and are built in part on
arches, under which there is a broad passage, with shops
within. No place, therefore, can be cooler in summer
or warmer in winter. In the middle of the streets there
is a channel with a rapid stream of water.

About the town there are fountains in abundance,
crowned with statues of armed men, Swiss heroes.
And there are gross and whimsical representations of
bears* on several of the pubhc buildings. Two living
bears are kept in a part of the fosse of the town. I
walked to the Enge Terrace, from which the view of the
Bernese Alps is particularly fine. The people are as
picturesque as the place. The women wear black caps,
fitting the head closely, with prodigious black gauze
wings : Miss Wordsworth calls it the butterfly cap. In
general, I experienced civility enough from the people
I spoke to, but one woman, carrying a burthen on
her head, said sharply, on my asking the way, " Ich
kann kein Welsch" (I can't speak any foreign language).
And on my pressing the question, being curious to see
more of her, and at last saying, " Sie ist dumm" (she is
stupid), she screamed out, " Fort, fort" (go along).

On the 15 th I went to Solothurn, and an acquaint-
ance began out of which a catastrophe sprang. In
the stage between Berne and Solothurn, which takes
a circuit through an unpicturesque, flat country, were
two very interesting young men, who I soon learned
* The arms of the town.

Goddard.

169

were residing with a Protestant clergyman at Geneva,
and completing their education. The elder was an
American, aged twenty-one, named Goddard. He had
a sickly air, but was intelligent, and not ill-read in
English poetry. The other was a fine handsome lad,
aged sixteen, of the name of Trotter, son of the then,
or late. Secretary to the Admiralty. He was of Scotch
descent. They were both genteel and well-behaved
young men, with the grace communicated by living in
good company. We became at once acquainted, — I
being then, as now, yoiuig in the facility of forming
acquaintance. We spent a very agreeable day and
evening together, partly in a walk to a hermitage in the
neighbourhood, and took leave of each other at night, —
I being bound for Lucerne, they for Zurich. But in the
morning I saw, to my surprise, my young friends with
their knapsacks in their hands ready to accompany me.
Goddard said, with a very amiable modesty, "If you will
permit us, we wish to go with you. I am an admirer
of Wordsworth's poems, and I should be delighted
merely to see him. Of course I expect no more." I
was gratified by this proposal, and we had a second day
of enjoyment, and this through a very beautiful country.
My expectations were not disappointed. I had heard
of the Wordsworth party from travellers with whom we
met. I found my friends at the Cheval Blanc. From
them I had a most cordial reception, and I was myself
in high spirits. Mrs. Wordsworth wrote in her journal :
" H. C. R. was drunk with pleasure, and made us drunk
too." My companions also were kindly received.

I found that there was especial good luck attending

Chap. vi.
1820.^

The
Words-
worths,

I/O

The Extortionate Guide.

Ghap. VI.
1820.

The

extortionate

guide.

Wooden
bridges at
Lucerne.

my arrival. Wordsworth had met with an impudent
fellow, a guide, who, because he would not submit to
extortion, had gone off with the ladies' cloaks to
Sarnen. Now it so happened that one of our fellow-
travellers this day was the Statthalter of Sarnen. I
spoke to him before we went to bed, and we arranged
to go to Sarnen the next day. We rose at four o'clock,
had a delightful walk to Winkel, embarked there on the
lake, sailed to Alpnach, and then proceeded on foot.
The judge was not betrayed into any impropriety. He
had heard Mr. Wordsworth's story, and on going to the
inn, he, without suffering Mr, Wordsworth to say a
word, most judiciously interrogated the landlord, who
was present when the bargain was made. He con-
firmed every part of Mr. Wordsworth's statement. On
this, the Statthalter said, " I hear the man has not
returned, a fact which shows that he is in the wrong.
I know, him to be a bad fellow. He will be home this
evening, you may rely on it, and you shall have the
cloaks to-morrow." Next day the man came, and was
very humble.

Wordsworth and I returned to dinner, and found my
young friends already in great favour with the ladies.
After dinner we walked through the town, which has no
other remarkable feature than the body of water flowing
through it, and the several covered wooden bridges. In
the angles of the roof of these bridges there are paint-
ings on historical and allegorical subjects. One series
from the Bible, another from the Swiss war against
Austria, a third called the Dance of Death, The last
is improperly called, for Death does not force his

Tour as Pedestrians.

171

partner to an involuntary waltz, as in the famous
designs which go by Holbein's name, but appears in all
the pictures an unwelcome visitor; There are feeling
and truth in many of the conceptions, but the ex-
pression is too often ludicrous, and too often coarsely
didactic*

August i8t/i. — Proceeded on our journey. I pur-
chased a knapsack, and sent my portmanteau to
Geneva. All the party were, in like manner, put on
short commons as to luggage, and our plan of travelling
was this : in the plains and level valleys we had a char-
a-banc, and we walked up and down the mountains.
Once only we hired mules, and these the guides only
used. Our luggage was so small, even for five (Mrs.
Monkhouse and Miss Horrocks did not travel about with
the rest of the party), that a single guide could carry
the whole.

We sailed on the lake as far as Kiisnacht, the two
young men being still our companions ; and between
two and three we began to ascend the Rigi, an in-
dispensable achievement in a Swiss tour. We engaged
beds at the Staffel, and went on to see the sun set, but
we were not fortunate in the weather. Once or twice
there were gleams of light on some of the lakes, but
there was little charm of colouring. After an early and
comfortable supper we enjoyed the distant lightning ;
but it soon became very severe, and some of the rooms
of the hotel were flooded with rain. Our rest was

* The XXXVIII. Poem of the " Memorials" was written while the work
was in the press, and at H. C. R.'s suggestion that Mr. Wordsworth should
write on the bridges at Lucerne. This will appear in a letter by Miss Words-
worth in 1822.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Travelliii};
flans.

The Rigi.

172

The Rigi.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Accident to
Goddard.

disturbed by a noisy party, who, unable to obtain beds
for tTiemselves, resolved that no one else should enjoy
his. The whole night was spent by them in an
incessant din of laughing, singing, and shouting. We
were called up between three and four A.M." but had
a very imperfect view from this "dread summit of the
Queen of Mountains" — Regina montium. The most
beautiful part of the scene was that which arose from
the clouds below us. They rose in succession, some-
times concealing the country, and then opening to our
view dark lakes, and gleams of very brilliant green.
They sometimes descended as if into an abyss beneath
us. We saw a few of the snow-mountains illuminated
by the first rays of the sun.

My journal simply says: "After breakfast our young
gentlemen left us." I afterwards wrote, " We separated
at a spot well suited to the parting of those who were
to meet no more. Our party descended " through the
valley of our 'Lady of the Snow,' and our late com-
panions went to Arth. We hoped to meet in a few
weeks at Geneva."

I will leave the order of time, and relate now all that
appertains to this sad history. The young men gave us
their address, and we promised to inform them when
we should be at Geneva, on our return. But on that
return we found that poor Goddard had perished in the
lake of Zurich, on the third day after our leave-taking
on the Rigi.

I heard the story from Trotter on the 23rd of
September. They had put themselves in a crazy boat ;
and a storm arising, the boat overset. It righted itself,

Goddard's Death.

173

but to no purpose. Trotter swam to the shore, but
Goddard was not seen again. Trotter was most hos-
pitably received by a Mr. Keller, near whose house the
catastrophe took place. The body was cast ashore
next day, and afterwards interred in the neighbouring
churchyard of Kusnacht. An inscription was placed
near the spot where the body was found, and a mural
monument erected in the church. At the funeral a
pathetic address was delivered by the Protestant clergy-
man, which I read in the Zurich paper. We were all
deeply impressed by the event, Wordsworth, I knew,
was not fond of drawing the subjects of his poems from
occurrences in themselves interesting, and therefore,
though I urged him to write on this tragic incident, I
little expected he would. There is, however, a beautiful
elegiac poem by him on the subject.* [To the later
editions there is prefixed a prose introduction. This
I wrote, Mr. Wordsworth wrote to me for information,
and I drew up the account in the first person.]

" And we were gay, our hearts at ease ;
With pleasure dancing through the frame
We journeyed ; all we knew of care —
Our path that straggled here and there ;
Of trouble — but the fluttering breeze ;
Of Winter — but a name.
If foresight could have rent the veil
Of three short days— but hush — no more !
Calm is the grave, and calmer none
Than that to which thy cares are gone,
Thou victim of the stormy gale ;
Asleep on Ziirich's shore.
Oh, Goddard ! — what art thou? — a name —
A simbeam follow' d by a shade."

In a subsequent visit to Switzerland I called at

* Poems of the Imagination, Vol. III. p. 169, Poem XXXIII.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Words-
worths
elegiac
poem on
Goddard,

Goddaris
sister.

174

Goddard's Sister.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Trotter,

Mr. Keller's, and saw some of the ladies of the house,
who gave me full particulars, I afterwards became
acquainted, in Italy, with Goddard's nearest surviving

relative, a sister, then married to a Mr. . The

winter preceding I was at Rome, when a Mrs. Kirkman,
the wife of an American gentleman, once Principal of
Harvard College, asked me whether I had ever known
a Mr. Goddard, her countryman. On my answering in
the affirmative, she said, " I am sorry to hear it, for there
has been a lady here in search of you. However, she
will be here again on her return from Naples." And in
a few months I did see her. It was Goddard's sister.
She informed me that Wordsworth's poem had afforded
her mother great comfort, and that she had come to
Europe mainly to collect all information still to be had
about her poor brother ; that she had seen the Kellers,
with whom she was pleased, and that she had
taken notes of all the circumstances of her brother's
fate ; that she had seen Trotter, had been to Rydal
Mount, and learned from Wordsworth of my being in
Italy. She was a woman of taste, and of some literary
pretensions.

On my return to England, I was very desirous to
renew my acquaintance with Trotter, but I inquired
after him in vain. After a time, when I had relaxed
my inquiries, I heard of him accidentally — that he was
a stock-broker, and had married a Miss Otter, daughter
of the Bishop of Chichester. I had learned this just
before one of the balloting evenings at the Athenaeum
— when, seeing Strutt there, and beginning my inquiries
about . his brother-in-law, he stopped them by saying.

Goddard's Companion, Trotter.

175

" You may ask himself, for there he is. He has been a
member of the Athenaeum these twelve years ! " He
called to Trotter, " Here is a gentleman who wants to
speak with you." — " Do you recollect me .'' " — " No, I
do not." — "Do you recollect poor Goddard .-' " — "You
can be no one but Mr. Robinson." We were glad to see
each other, and our acquaintance was renewed. The
fine youth is now the intelligent man of business. He
has written a pamphlet on the American State Stocks.
Many years ago he came up from the country, tra-
velling fifty miles to have the pleasure of breakfasting
with Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth at my apartments..

To go back to the 19th of August, after parting from
our young companions we proceeded down the valley in
which is the chapel dedicated to our Lady of the Snow,
the subject of Wordsworth's nineteenth poem. The
preceding eighteen have to do with objects which had
been seen before I joined the party. The elegiac
stanzas are placed near the end of the collection, I
know not for what reason. The stanzas on the chapel
express poetically the thoughts which a prosaic mind
like mine might receive from the numerous votive
offerings hung on the walls. There are pictures re-
presenting accidents, — such as drowning, falling from a
horse, and the Mother and the Child are in the clouds, —
it being understood that the escape proceeded from her
aid. Some crutches with painted inscriptions bear
witness to the miracles wrought on the lame.

" To thee, in this aerial cleft.
As to a common centre, tend
All sufferers that no more rely
On mortal succour—all who sigh

Chap. vt.
1820.

Our Lady
of the
Snow.

176

The Heart of Switzerland.

Chap. vr.
1820.

Goldau.

Schwyz,

And pine, of human hope bereft,
Nor wish for earthly friend.

Thy very name, O Lady ! flings

O'er blooming fields and gushing springs

A tender sense of shadowy fear,

And chastening sympathies ! "

We passed the same day through Goldau, a desolate
spot, once a populous village, overwhelmed by the slip
from the Rossberg.

On the 20th at Schwyz, which Wordsworth calls
the "heart" of Switzerland, as Berne is the "head."*
Passing through Brunnen, we reached Altorf on
the 2 1st, the spot which suggested Wordsworth's
twentieth effusion.f My prose remark on the people
shows the sad difference between observation and
fancy. I wrote : " These patriotic recollections are
delightful when genuine, but the physiognomy of the
people does not speak in favour of their ancestors.
The natives of the district have a feeble and melan-
choly character. The women are afflicted by goitre.
The children beg, as in other Catholic cantons. The
little children, with cross-bows in their hands, sing un-
intelligible songs. Probably Wilhelm Tell serves, like
Henri Quatre, as a name to beg by." But what says
the poet ? —

" Thrice happy burghers, peasants, warriors old,
Infants in arms, and ye, that as ye go
Home-ward or school-ward, ape what ye behold ;
Heroes before your time, in frolic fancy bold !" ^

"And when that calm Spectatress from on high
Looks down — the bright and solitary moon,

* Poem XXL of the " Memorials."

f " Effusion in Presence of the Painted Tower of Tell at Altorf."

"Mountain named — of God Himself!'

177

Who never gazes but to beautify ;

And snow-fed torrents, which the blaze of noon

Roused into fury, murmur a soft tune

That fosters peace, and gentleness recalls ;

Then might the passing monk receive a boon

Of saintly pleasure from these pictured walls,

While, on the warlike groups, the mellowing lustre fiiUs."

We next crossed the St. Gotthard. Wordsworth
thinks this pass more beautiful than the more celebrated
[a blank here]. We slept successively at Amsteg on the
22nd, Hospenthal on the 23rd, and Airolo on the 24th.
On the way we were overtaken by a pedestrian, a
young Swiss, who had studied at Heidelberg, and was
going to Rome. He had his flute, and played thq
Ranz des Vaches. Wordsworth begged me to ask him
to do this, which I did on condition that he wrote a
sonnet on it. It is XXH. of the collection. The
young man was intelligent, and expressed pleasure in
our company. We were sorry when he took French
leave. We were English, and I have no doubt he
feared the expense of having such costly companions.
He gave a sad account of the German Universities, and
said that Sand, the murderer of Kotzebue, had many
apologists among the students.

We then proceeded on our half-walk and half-drive,
and slept on the 25th at Bellinzona, the first decidedly
Italian town. We walked to Locarno, where we resisted
the first, and indeed almost the only, attempt at extor-
tion by an innkeeper on our journey. Our landlord
demanded twenty-five francs for a luncheon, the worth
of which could scarcely be three. I tendered a ducat
(twelve francs), and we carried away our luggage. We
had the good fortune to find quarters in a new hous^,

VOL. II. N

Chap, vi,
1820.

St.
Gotthard.

Student.

Ranz des

Vaches.

Extortion.

178

Queen Caroline.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Lake of
Lugano.

Queen
Caroline.

the master of which had not been spoiled by receiving
Enghsh guests.

On the 27th we had a row to Luino, on the Lago
Maggiore, a walk to Ponte Tresa, and then a row to
Lugano, where we went to an excellent hotel, kept by
a man of the name of Rossi, a respectable man.

Our apartments consisted of one handsome and
spacious room, in which were Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth,
(this room fronted the beautiful lake) ; a small back
room, occupied by Miss Wordsworth, with a window
looking into a dirty yard, and having an internal com-
munication with a two-bedded room, in which Monk-
house and I slept. I had a ver)/- free conversation with
Rossi about the Queen, who had been some time in his
house. It is worth relating here, and might have been
worth making known in England, had the trial then
going on had another issue. He told me, but not
emphatically, that when the Queen came, she first slept
in the large room, but not liking that, she removed to
the back room. " And Bergami," said Rossi, " had the
room in which you and the other gentleman sleep."
— " And was there," I asked, " the same communication
then that there is now between the two rooms V — "Of
course," he replied. " It was in the power, certainly, of
the Queen and Bergami to open the door : whether it was
opened or not, no one can say." He added, " I know
nothing ; none of my servants know anything." The
most favourable circumstance related by Rossi was, that
Bergami's brother did not fear to strike off much from
the bill. He added, too, that the Queen was surrounded
hy cattiva gcnte.

" Turrets guarded by San Salvador."

179

On the 28th we took an early walk up the mountain
San Salvador, which produced No. XXIV. of Words-
worth's Memorial Poems.* Though the weather was
by no means favourable, we enjoyed a much finer view
than from the Rigi. The mountains in the neighbour-
hood are beautiful, but the charm of the prospect lies
in a glimpse of distant mountains. We saw a most
elegant pyramid, literally in the sky, partly black, and
partly shining like silver. It was the Simplon. Mont
Blanc and Monte Rosa were seen in parts. Clouds
concealed the bases, and too soon also the summits.
This splendid vision lasted but a few minutes. The
plains of Piedmont were hardly visible, owing to the
black clouds which covered this part of the horizon.
We could, however, see in the midst of a dark surface
a narrow ribbon of white, which we were told was the
Po. We were told the direction in which Milan lay,
but could not see the cathedral.

The same day we went on to Menaggio, on the Lake
Como. This, in Wordsworth's estimation, is the most
beautiful of the lakes. On the 29th and 30th we slept
at Cadenabbia, and " fed our eyes " —

" in paths sun-proof
With purple of the trellis roof,
That through the jealous leaves escapes
From Cadenabbia's pendent grapes." f

The beds in which Monkhouse and I slept at Menag-
gio were intolerable, but we forgot the sufferings of

* Wordsworth speaks of the "prospect" as "more diversified by magnifi-
cence, beauty, and sublimity than perhaps any other point in Europe, of so
inconsiderable an elevation (2,000 feet), commands." — Introduction to Poem
XXIV.

t Vide Poem XXV. of the "Memorials."

N 2

Chap. vi.
;83o.

San
Salvador.

Lake Como.

i8o

Surpassing Enjoyments.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Milan.

A travel-
ling ac-
quaintance.

the night in the enjoyment of the morning. I wrote in
my journal: "This day has been spent on the lake, and
so much exquisite pleasure I never had on water. The
tour, or rather excursion, we have been making sur-
passes in scenery all that I have ever made ; and Words-
worth asserts the same. I write now from an inn where
we have been served with all the promptitude of an
English hotel, and with a neatness equal to that of
Holland. But the pleasure can hardly be recorded. It
consists in the contemplation of scenes absolutely inde-
scribable by words, and in sensations for which no words
have been even invented. ^We were lucky in meeting
two honest fellows of watermen, who have been atten-
tive and not extortionate. I will not enumerate the
points of view and villas we visited. We saw nothing
the guide-books do not speak of."

On the 31st we slept at Como, and next day went to
Milan, where we took up our abode at Reichardt's Swiss
Hotel. We were, however, sent to an adjacent hotel to
sleep, there being no bed unoccupied at Reichardt's*
We arrived just before dinner, and were placed at the
upper end of a table reserved for the English, pf whom
there were five or six present, besides ourselves. Here
we made an acquaintance with a character of whom I
have something to say.

A knot of young persons were listening to the ani-
mated conversation of a handsome young man, who was
rattling away on the topics of the day with great
vivacity. Praising highly the German poets Goethe;
Schiller, &c., he said, " Compared with these, we have
not a poet worth naming." I sat opposite him, and

All Adventurer.

I8i

said, "Die gegenwartige Gesellschaft ausgenommen"
(the present company excepted). Now, whether he
heard or understood me I cannot possibly say. If so,
the rapidity with which he recovered himself was ad-
mirable, for he instantly went on — " When I say no
one, I always except Wordsworth, who is the greatest
poet England has had for generations." The effect was
ludicrous. Mrs. Wordsworth gave me a nudge, and
said, " He knows that's William." And Wordsworth,
being taken by surprise, said, " That's a most ridiculous
remark for you to make. My name is Wordsworth."
On this the stranger threw himself into an attitude of
astonishment — well acted at all events — and apologized
for the liberty he had taken. After dinner he came to
us, and said he had been some weeks at Milan, and
should be proud to be our cicerone. We thought the
offer too advantageous to be rejected, and he went
round with us to the sights of this famous city. But
though I was for a short time taken in by him, I soon
had my misgivings ; and coming home the first evening,

Wordsworth said, " This Mr. is an amusing man,

but there is something about him I don't like." And I
discovered him to be a mere pretender in German
literature, — he knew merely the names of Goethe and
Schiller. He made free with the names of our English
literary notabilities, such as Shelley, Byron, Lamb,
ieigh Hunt ; but I remarked that of those I knew
lie took care to say no more. One day he went to
'Mrs. Wordsworth with a long face, and said he had
Jost his purse. But she was not caught. Some one
else must have paid the piper. At Paris we met

Chap. vi.
182a.

Suspicions
about the
new ac-

quaintanctt

i8:

A Universal Borrower.

Chap. vi.
182a

A universal
borrower.

Further

intelligence

0/ the

universal

borrower.

the same gentleman again, and he begged me to lend
him\;^i5, as he had been robbed of all his money. I
was enabled to tell him that I had that very morning
borrowed £10. He was, however, more successful in an
application to Monkhouse, who said, " I would rather
lose the money than ever see that fellow again." It is
needless to say he " lost his money and his friend," but
did not, in the words of the song, " place great store on
both." As usually happens in such cases, we learnt
almost immediately after the money had been ad-
vanced, that Mr. was a universal borrower.

His history became known by degrees. He was an
American by birth, and being forced to fly to England,
he became secretary to a Scotchman, who left him
money, that he might study the law. This money he
spent or lost abroad, and it was at this stage that we
fell in with him. He afterwards committed what was
then a capital forgery, but made his escape. These
circumstances being told in the presence of the man-
ager of a New York theatre, he said, " Then I am at
liberty to speak. I knew that fellow in America, and
saw him with an iron collar on his neck, a convict for
forgery. He had respectable friends, and obtained his
pardon on condition that he should leave the country.
Being one day in a box at Covent Garden, I saw him.
Perceiving that I knew him, he came to me, and most
pathetically implored me not to expose him. ' I am a
reformed man,' said he ; * I have friends, and have a
prospect of redeeming myself I am at your mercy.'
His appearance was not inconsistent with this account.
I therefore said, * I. hope you are speaking the truth. I

The Three Milan Soimets.

183

cannot be acquainted with you, but unless I hear of
misconduct on your part in this country, I will keep
your secret.' "

Some time afterwards we heard that this reckless
adventurer had died on a bed of honour — that is, was
killed in a duel.

I remained a week at Milan, where I fell in with Mrs.
Aldebert, and renewed my acquaintance with her ex-
cellent brother, Mr. Mylius, who is highly honoured in
very old age. Milan furnished Wordsworth with matter
for three poems, on Leonardo da Vinci's "Last Supper,"
" The Eclipse of the Sun " (which Monkhouse and I
saw on our journey from Milan), and " The Column," a
memorial of Buonaparte's defeated ambition.* I have
very little to say, as I abstain from a description of
the usual sights. I may, however, remark, that at the
picture gallery at the Brera, three pictures made an
impression on me, which was renewed on every sub-
sequent visit : — Guercino's " Abraham and Hagar,"
Raphael's " Marriage of the Virgin," and Albani's " Oak
Tree and Cupids."

At the Ambrosian Library we inspected the famous
copy of Virgil which belonged to Petrarch. It has in
the poet's own handwriting a note, stating when and
where he first saw Laura. Wordsworth was deeply
interested in this entry, and would certainly have
requested a copy, if he had not been satisfied that
he should find it in print. The ciistos told us that
when Buonaparte came here first, and the book was

• Poems XXVI., XXVII.. and XXIX. of the " Memorials."

Chap. vi.
J820.

And his
end.

Milan,

Petrarch's

coty of
Virgil and
its seizure

by
Napoleon,

1 84

" A Labour worthy of Etertial Yotith."

.Chap. vi.

J 820.

Leonardo
da Vinci,

Objects of

interest at

Alilan.

The
celebrated
picture of
Leonardo
da Vinci.

shown him, he seized it, exclaiming, " This is mine."
He had it bound, and his own N. marked on it. It
came back when the other plunder was restored.
Another curiosity was a large book by Leonardo da
Vinci, full of mechanical studies. Wordsworth was
much struck with the fact that a man who had
produced works of so great beauty and sublimity, had
prepared himself by intense and laborious study of
scientific and mathematical details. It was not till late
that he ventured on beauty as exhibited in the human
form.

Other objects of interest at Milan, which I never
forgot, were the antique columns before the Church
of St. Laurent ; the exhibition of a grand spectacle, the
siege of Troy, in the Amphitheatre, capable of holding
30,000 persons, which enabled me to imagine what
Roman shows probably were ; and the exquisite scenery
of the Scala Theatre.

But the great attraction of this neighbourhood is
the celebrated picture of Leonardo da Vinci in the
refectory of the Convent of Maria della Grazia. After
sustaining every injury from Italian monks, French
soldiers, wet, and the appropriation of the building to
secular purposes, this picture is now protected by the
public sense of its excellence from further injury. And
more remains of the original than from Goethe's
dissertation I expected to see. The face .of our
Saviour appears to have suffered less than any other
part. And the countenance has in it exquisite
feeling ; it is all sweetness and dignity. Wordsworth
says —

Da Vinci's "Last Supper r

185

' ' Tho" searching damps, and many an envious flaw,
Have marr'd this work ; the calm ethereal grace,
The love deep-seated in the Saviour's face,
The mercy, goodness, have not faild to awe
The elements ; as they do melt and thaw
The heart of the beholder." *

Some of the apostles have a somewhat caricature
expression, which has been far better preserved in the
several copies existing, as well as in the engraving of
Raphael Morgen. There is a sort of mawkish senti-
mentality in the copies of St. John, which always
offended me. There is less of it in the original. That
and St. Andrew are the best preserved, next to the
face of Christ.

On the 5 th of September the Wordsworths went
back to the lake of Como, in order to gratify Miss
Wordsworth, who wished to see every spot which her
brother saw in his first journey, — a journey made when
he was young.

On the 7th, Monkhouse and I went to Varese. As
we approached the town we drew nigh the mountains.
Varese is most delightfully situated. There is on a
mountain, 2,000 feet high, a church with fifteen appen-
dant chapels. To this we found peasants were flocking
in great numbers, it being the eve of the birthday of
the Virgin. We resolved to witness this scene of
devotion, and our walk afforded me more delight than
any single excursion I have yet made. For two miles
the mountain is very steep. The fifteen chapels are
towards the top, and beautiful, containing representa-
tions of the Passion of Christ in carved and painted

♦ Poem XXVI. of the "Memorials."

Chap. vi.
1820.

Varese.

Festival on
the eve of

the Virgin s
birthday.

1 86

Festival of " Our Lady!'

Chap. vi.
1820.

wood. The figures are as large as life, and at least
very expressive. Though so closely resembling wax
figures, they excited no disgust. On the contrary, I
was highly pleased with the talent of the artists. The
dragging of the cross, and the crucifixion, are deeply
affecting. The spectator looks through iron grates, the
apertures of which are purposely small. My view was
imperfect, on account of the number of pious worshippers.
Towards the top the crowd was immense. We some-
times had to jump over the bodies of men and women.
The church I could scarcely enter. Hundreds of
women were lying about with their provisions in
baskets. The hats of the peasantry were covered with
holy gingerbread mingled with bits of glass. Bands of
people came up chanting after a sort of leader. This
scene of devotion would have compensated for the walk ;
but we had, in addition, a very fine prospect. On one
side the plains of Lombardy, studded with churches and
villages, on another five or six pieces of water. In
another direction we saw a mass of Alpine hills and
valleys, glens, rocks, and precipices. A part of the lake
of Lugano was prominently visible. To enjoy this view
I had to ascend an eminence beyond the church. Our
walk home, Monkhouse thought, was hardly less than
six miles. We found our inn rather uncomfortable
from the number of guests, and from the singing in the
streets.

We rejoined the Wordsworths at Baveno on the
8th. Then we crossed the Simplon, resting successively
on the 9th at Domo d'Ossola, loth Simplon, nth
Turtman, and the 12th and 13th at the baths of Leuk.

Echo upon the Gemmi.

187

From this place we walked up the Gemmi, by far the
most wonderful of all the passes of Switzerland I had
ever, or have now ever, crossed. The most striking part
is a mountain wall 1,600 feet in perpendicular height,
and having up it a zigzag path broad enough to enable
a horse to ascend. The road is hardly visible from
below. A parapet in the more dangerous parts renders
it safe. Here my journal mentions our seeing men
employed in picking up bees in a torpid state from the
cold. The bees had swarmed four days before. It does
not mention what I well recollect, and Wordsworth has
made the subject of a sonnet, the continued barking of
a dog irritated by the echo of his own voice. In human
life this is perpetually occurring. It is said that a dog
has been known to contract an illness by the continued
labour of barking at his own echo. In the present in-
stance the barking lasted while we were on the spot.

"A solitary wolf-dog, ranging on
Through the bleak concave, wakes this wondrous chime
Of aery voices lock'd in unison, —
Faint — far off— near — deep — solemn and sublime ! —
So from the body of one guilty deed
A thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed ! " *

On the 14th we slept at Martigny, having passed
through the most dismal of all the valleys in Switzer-
land— the valley of the Rhone, and Sion, the most
ugly of all the towns.-|- A barren country, and a town
of large and frightful edifices. An episcopal town too.
It looked poverty-struck.

I say nothing of Chamouni, where we slept two

* No. XXXI. of the " Memorials," " Echo upon the GemmL"

f The painters, however, think it full of picturesque subjects. I

Chap. vi.
1820.

The pass of
the Gemmi.

The Rhone
valley.

Geneva.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Sismondi.

nights, the 15 th and i6th ; nor of the roads to it, but
that the Tete Noire, by which we returned, is still more
interesting than the Col de Balme, by which we went.
Again at Martigny on the 17th. I should not have
omitted to mention that, to add to the sadness produced
by the Valais, Wordsworth remarked that there the
Alps themselves were in a state of decay — crumbling to
pieces. His is the line : —

" The human soul craves something that endures."

On the 1 8th we were at Villeneuve, and on the 19th
and 20th at Lausanne. In the latter place I saw some
relations of Mrs. H. Mylius, the Minnets, an agreeable
family.

At Geneva I became acquainted with a Scotch M.D.,
a Dr. Chisholm, a very estimable man, with four very
agreeable daughters. The mother an English lady in
the best sense of the word. At Dr. Chisholm's house I
met the celebrated historian Sismondi, who reminded
me of Rogers, the poet. On the 23rd I sought out Mr.
Pictet, to make what could not but be a melancholy call.
I met Trotter on the road. He was affected when he
saw me. We walked together to the city, and he gave
me those details which I have already written. We had
all been sincerely afflicted at Goddard's death. He was
an amiable and interesting young man ; and we could
not help recollecting that it was his rencontre with me,
and his desire to see Wordsworth, which occasioned his
being at the lake of Zurich when the storm took place.

In the afternoon I called on Mrs. Reeve.* She, too,

* The widow of Dr. Reeve, of Norwich, and mother of Mr. Henry Reeve,
the translator of De Tocqueville. . . _

Biiffon's Residence.

189

had a sad tale to tell. She witnessed the departure of
the party for Mont Blanc, among whom were the three
guides who perished.*

September ^d^th. — In the morning much time lost in
running about. After dinner we went to a delightful
spot at Petit-Saconnex, where Geneva, the lake, Mont
Blanc, were all seen illuminated by the setting sun. A
very magnificent scene, which we all enjoyed.

On the 25th we left Geneva. On our way to Paris
we visited Montbar, the residence of BufFon, a man of
sufficient fame to render one curious to see the seat of
his long retirement and study. We did not see the
dwelling-house within, it being out of order, and his
library and its furniture are dispersed ; but we walked
in the garden, and ascended a tower of considerable
height as well as antiquity. This belonged to the royal
family, and was purchased by the celebrated Buffon,
who had changed the military castle into a modern
chateau. The garden is of small extent, and consists
of several broad terraces with very fine trees in them.
The prospect is not particularly fine. The view em-
braces several valleys, but the surrounding hills are all
of one height, and the valleys are cold and somewhat
barren. Near the tower there is a small column, which
the son of Bufibn raised to his father's memory. The
inscription was torn off during the Revolution. I
thought more of the unfortunate son than of the father,
for the son left this retreat (which his father preferred
to the court), to perish on the scaffold at Paris. The
heroism with which he died, saying only to the people

• In Dr. Hamel's well-known attempt to ascend Mont Blanc.

Chap. vi.
1820.

The

residence of

Buffon.

190

Fontainebleaii.

Chap. vi.

1820.

Fontaine-
bleau.

The

chateau at

Fontaine-

bleau.

A beggar.

" Je m'appelle Buffbn," bespeaks an intense sense of his
father's worth, and interests me more than the talents
which gave the father celebrity.

We passed through the forest of Fontainebleau.
The part through which we rode is in no way remark-
able— a mere collection of trees with avenues. No
variety of surface. We alighted at the Ville de Lyon,
where we were in all respects well satisfied with our
entertainment. The chateau is a vast hunting-palace,
built by a succession of French kings from Saint Louis
downwards. Francis L and Henry IV. are spoken of
as having built the more prominent parts. It has
no pretension to architectural beauty whatever. The
apartments are curious — some from their antiquity,
with painted roofs exhibiting the taste of ancient times —
others from their splendour, with the usual decorations
of satin hangings, gilt thrones, china tables, &c., &c. In
a little plain room there is exhibited a table, which must
be an object of great curiosity to those who are fond of
associating the recollection of celebrated events with
sensible objects. I have this feeling but feebly.
Nevertheless I saw with interest the table on which
Buonaparte signed his abdication in the year 18 14.
We were also shown the apartments in which the Pope
was kept a prisoner for twenty months, for refusing to
yield to Napoleon ; from which apartments, the con-
cierge assured us, he never descended. After an ex-
cellent dinner, we were shown some pleasing English
gardens, laid out by Josephine.

On nearing Paris I answered the solicitations of a
beggar by the gift of a most wretched pair of pantaloons.

JLl

End of the Wordsworth Jourtiey.

191

He clutched them, and ran on begging, which showed a
mastery of the craft. When he could get no more from
the second carriage, he sent after me kisses of amusing
vivacity. Our merriment was checked by the informa-
tion of the postilion that this beggar was an ancien
cure. We came to another sight not to be found in
England — a man and woman actually yoked together,
and harrowing. The sight was doubly offensive on
Sunday, the day of rest, when we witnessed it. We
cannot expect to make political economists of the
peasantry'-, but professed thinkers ought to know that
were the seventh day opened universally to labour, this
would but lessen the value of the poor man's capital —
his limbs.

At Fontainebleau we were awakened by the firing of
cannon. The waiter burst into our room — "Voila un
Prince ! " It was the birth of the now Due de
Bordeaux — perhaps one day the King of France.

At Paris I renewed my old acquaintance, and saw
the old sights. On the 8th I left the Wordsworths,
who were intending to prolong their stay. On the 9th
I slept at Amiens ; on the loth was on the road ; on the
nth reached Dover; and on the 12th of October slept
in my own chambers.

*' And so," my journal says, " I concluded my tour in
excellent health and spirits, having travelled farther,
and seen a greater number and a greater variety of
sublime and beautiful objects, and in company better
calculated to make me feel the worth of these objects,
than any it has been my good fortune to enjoy." Of
that journal I must now say that it is the most meagre

Chap. vi.
1820.

Sunday
labour.

Birth of a
prince.

End of the
journey
with the
Words-
worths,

192

Leizh Himt.

Chap. vi.
1820.

The
Indicator.

Dinner at
H. My I i us.

Words-
worth.

and defective I ever wrote — perhaps from want of time.
The most interesting details, and not the least true,
have been written from memory, the journal giving me
only the outlines. The fidelity of what I have written
from recollection might be doubted ; but that would be
unjust.

October 2(^th. — I was employed looking over law
papers all the forenoon ; I then walked in the rain to
Clapton, reading by the way the Indicator.* There is
a spirit of enjoyment in this little work which gives
a charm to it. Leigh Hunt seems the very opposite
of Hazlitt. He loves everything, he catches the sunny
side of everything, and, excepting that he has a few
polemical antipathies, finds everything beautiful,

November %th. — Spent the afternoon with H, Mylius,
and dined there with a large party — English and
foreign. Mr. and Mrs. Blunt, friends of Monkhouse,
were there — she a sensible lively woman, though she
ventured to ridicule the great poet. I suspect she has
quarrelled with Monkhouse about him ; for she says,
" All Wordsworth's friends quarrel with those who
do not like him." Is this so .'' And what does it

prove

November gth. — In the afternoon . called on Words-
worth. He arrived yesterday night in town after
a perilous journey. He was detained nine days at
Boulogne by bad weather, and on setting off from the
port was wrecked. He gave himself up for lost, and

* A weekly publication edited by Leigh Hunt. It consists of a hundred
numbers, and forms two vols. London, 1819-21.

The Pickpocket. ^

193

had taken off his coat to make an attempt at swim-
ming ; but the vessel struck within the bar, and the
water retired so fast that, when the packet fell in pieces,
the passengers were left on land. They were taken
ashore in carts.

November I'^th. — In the evening I set out on a walk
Avhich proved an unlucky one. As I passed in the
narrow part of the Strand, near Thelwall's, I entered
incautiously into a crowd. I soon found myself unable
to proceed, and felt that I was pressed on all sides. I
had buttoned my greatcoat. On a sudden I felt a
hand at my fob. I instantly pressed my hands down,
recollecting I had Mrs. Wordsworth's watch in my
pocket. I feared making any motion with my hands,
and merely pressed my waistband. Before I could
make any cry, I was thrown down (how, I cannot say).
I rose instantly. A fellow called out, " Sir, you struck
me !" I answered, "I am sorry for it, — I'm robbed, and
that is worse." I was uncertain whether I had lost
anything, but it at once occurred to me that this was a
sort of protecting exclamation. I ran into the street,
and fhen remarked, for the first time, that I had lost my
best umbrella. I felt my watch, but my gold chain and
seals were gone. The prime cost of what was taken
was about eight guineas. On the whole, I escaped very
well, considering all circumstances. Many persons have
been robbed on this very spot, and several have been
beaten and ill-treated in the heart of the City — and in
the daytime. Such is the state of our police ! My
watch-chain was taken ^ from me, not with the violence
of robbery, or the secrecy of theft, but with a sort
VOL. II. O

Chap. vi.
1820.

H. C. R.

hustled and

robbed in
the Strand.

194

Literati Asleep.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Party at

Alas-
queriers.

Dinner at
Mr. Monk-
house's.

Words-
worth.

of ease and boldness that made me for a moment not
know what the fellow meant. He seemed to be decently-
dressed, and had on a white waistcoat.

I called at Lamb's, where the Wordsworths were. I
was in good spirits telling my tale. It is not my habit
to fret about what happens to me through no fault of
my own. I did not reproach myself on this occasion;
and as the loss was not a serious inconvenience, it did
not give me a moment's uneasiness.

I then went to a large party at Masquerier's. There
were whist-tables, dancing, beautiful drawings by Lewis,
made on Masquerier's late journey, and. some interesting
people there. I saw, but had no conversation with,
Lawrence, whose medical lectures have excited much
obloquy on account of the Materialism obtruded in
them.*

November i^th. — The afternoon was agreeable. I
dined with the Wordsworths, and Lambs, and Mr.
Kenyon, at Monkhouse's. It was an agreeable com-
pany and a good dinner, though I could not help
sleeping. Wordsworth and Monkhouse either followed
my example, or set me one, and Lamb talked as if
he were asleep. Wordsworth was in excellent mood.
His improved and improving mildness and tolerance
must very much conciliate all who know him.

November 20th. — I was glad to accompany the
Wordsworths to the British Museum. I had to wait
for them in the anteroom, and we had at last but a

* Lectures on Physiology, Zoology, and the Natural History of Man. By
William Lawrence. London: John Callord. 1819. The author recalled
and suppressed this edition; but the work^has since been repeatedly re-
printed.

A Party at Lamb's.

195

hurried survey of the antiquities. I did not perceive
that Wordsworth much enjoyed the Elgin Marbles ; but
he is a still man when he does enjoy himself, and by
no means ready to talk of his pleasure, except to his
sister. We could hardly see the statues. The Memnon,*
however, seemed to interest him very much. Took tea
with the Lambs. I accompanied Mrs. and Miss Words-
worth home, and afterwards sat late with Wordsworth
at Lamb's.

November 2ist. — I went late to Lamb's, and stayed
an hour there very pleasantly. The Wordsworths were
there, and Dr. Stoddart. The Doctor was very civil.
Politics were hardly touched on, for Miss Kellyf- stepped
in, thus drawing our attention to a far more agreeable
subject. She pleased me much. She is neither young
nor handsome, but very agreeable ; her voice and manner
those of a person who knows her own worth, but is at
the same time not desirous to assume upon it. She
talks like a sensible woman. Barry Cornwall, too,
came in. Talfourd also there.

November 29///. — Being engaged all day in court, I

* This formed no part of the Elgin Collection, It is the colossal Egyptian
head of Rameses II., supposed to be identical with the Sesostris of the
Greeks, and was known when first brought to the British Museum as the
Memnon. This head, one of the finest examples of Egyptian art in Europe,
was removed by Belzoni in 1815, and presented to the Museum by Messrs. H.
Salt and Burckhardt, in 18 17.

t Miss Kelly, bom at Brighton in 1790, attained great popularity as an
actress in performing characters of a domestic kind. She was twice shot at on
the stage. Charles Lamb, in 1818, addressed her in the lines beginning :

"You are not Kelly of the common strain."
One of her best performances was in the melodrama of "The Maid and the
Magpie," subsequently referred to. Miss Kelly built the small theatre in Dean
Street, Soho, and latterly devoted her time to preparing pupils for the stage.

O 2

Chap. vi.
1820.

A I Lamb's.

Miss Kelly.

196

Queen's Trial. — A nti-.Kingite.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Queen
Caroline's

visit to
St. Paul' s.

Coleridge

on the

Queen s

trial.

Sieveking,

saw nothing of the show of the day — the Queen's visit
to St. Paul's. A great crowd were assembled, which the
Times represents as an effusion of public feeling, echoed
by the whole nation in favour of injured innocence.
The same thing was represented by the Ministerial
papers as a mere rabble, I think the Government
journals on this occasion are nearer the truth than their
adversaries ; for though the popular delusion has spread
widely, embracing all the lowest classes, and a large
proportion of the middling orders, yet the great ma-
jority of the educated, and nearly all the impartial,
keep aloof.

Rem.* — The disgraceful end of the disgraceful pro-
cess against the Queen took place while the Words-
worths were in town. Whilst the trial was going on,
and the issue still uncertain, I met Coleridge, who said,
" Well, Robinson, you are a Queenite, I hope ? " —
" Indeed I am not." — " How is that possible .'' " — " I am
only an anti-Kingite." — " That 's just what I mean."

On the 3rd of December I dined with the Beneckes,
and made an acquaintance, which still continues, with
Mr. and Mrs. Sieveking.-f- He is a merchant of great
respectability, and related to my Hamburg acquaint-
ance. A man of sense, though not a writer ; he is highly
religious, a believer in mesmerism, and with an inclina-
tion to all mystical doctrines. His eldest son is now a
young M.D.,J and a very amiable young man. He was

* Written in 1851.

f Resident for many years at Stamford Hill. Mr. Sieveking died, at his son's
residence in Manchester Square, Nov. 29th, 1868, aged 79.

J Now Physician in Ordinary to the Prince of Wales. He attended H. C. R.
in his last illness.

Lafnb on Keats.

197

educated partly at our University College, and I can
cite him as a testimony in its favour. After spending
several years at Paris, Berlin, and at Edinburgh, where
he took his degree, he gave his decided opinion that
the medical school of our University College was the
best in Europe.

December %th. — I read a little of Keats's poems to the
Aders', — the beginning of " Hyperion," — really a piece
of great promise. There are a force, wildness, and
originality in the works of this young poet which, if his
perilous journey to Italy does not destroy him, promise
to place him at the head of the next generation of
poets. Lamb places him next to Wordsworth — not
meaning any comparison, for they are dissimilar.

December l/^th. — On my return from court, where I
had gained a cause for H. Stansfeld, I met Esther
Nash and walked with her. After dining at Collier's, I
accompanied her to Drury Lane. " The English Fleet,"
a very stupid opera, but Braham's singing was delight-
ful. Madame Vestris, though rather too impudent, is a
charming creature, and Munden, as the drunken sailor,
was absolutely perfect. Afterwards a melodrama ("The
Maid and the Magpie "), in which the theft of a magpie
gives occasion to a number of affecting scenes, was ren-
dered painfully affecting by Miss Kelly's acting. The
plan well laid and neatly executed.

December i^th. — I spent the forenoon at home read-
ing law, and went late to the Aders', where I read
Keats's "Pot of Basil," a pathetic tale, delightfully
told. I afterwards read the story in Boccaccio — each in
its way excellent. I am greatly mistaken if Keats do

Chap. vi.

1820.

198

Two Evenings with Flaxman.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Flaxman
at Mr.
Aders.

At
Flaxman s.

Self-dissa-
tisfaction.

not very soon take a high place among our poets. Great
feeling and a powerful imagination are shown in this
little volume.

December 20th. — Another forenoon spent at home over
law-books. The evening I spent at Aders'. The Flax-
mans there. They seemed to enjoy the evening much.
Aders produced his treasures of engraving as well as
his paintings, and Flaxman could appreciate the old
masters. He did not appear much to relish Thorwald-
sen's designs, and some anecdotes he related made us
suppose that he was indisposed to relish Thorwaldsen's
works of art. Flaxman greatly admired the head of
Mrs. Aders' father,* and declared it to be one of the
best of Chantrey's works. We supped, and Flaxman
was in his best humour. I was not aware how much
he loved music. He was more than gratified — he was
deeply affected by Mrs. Aders' singing. It was apparent
that he thought of his wife, but he was warm in his
praises and admiration of Mrs. Aders.

December 26th. — After dining at Collier's, I went to
Flaxman — took tea and had several interesting hours'
chat with him. I read some of Wordsworth's poems
and Keats's " Eve of St. Agnes." I was, however, so
drowsy that I read this poem without comprehending
it. It quite affects me to remark the early decay of my
faculties. I am so lethargic that I shall soon be unable
to discharge the ordinary business of life ; and as to
all pretensions to literary taste, this I must lay aside
entirely. How wretched is that state, at least how low

* John Raphael Smith, the eminent engraver, who died in London, 1811.
He was appointed engraver to the Prince of Wales.

Edgar Taylor,

199

is it, when a man is content to renounce all claim to
respect, and endeavours only to enjoy himself! Yet I
am reduced to this. When my vivacity is checked by
age, and I have lost my companionable qualities, I shall
then have nothing left but a little good-nature to make
me tolerable, even to my old acquaintances.*

December $isf. — Bischoff told me that when, some

years back, T , the common friend of himself and

Monkhouse, was in difficulties, Bischoff communicated
the fact to Monkhouse, who seemed strongly affected.
He said nothing to Mr. Bischoff, but went instantly to

T and offered him ;^ 10,000, if that could save him

from failure. It could not, and T rejected the offer.

After dining with W. Collier alone, and sitting in
chambers over a book, I went to Edgar Taylor's,-|- having
refused to dine with him. He had a party, and I stayed
there till the old year had passed. There were Richard
and Arthur Taylor, E. Taylor's partner, Roscoe,| and
a younger Roscoe§ (a handsome and promising young
man, who is with Pattison the pleader, || and is to be
called to the Bar), and Bowring, the traveller. His person

* Written between forty-six and forty-seven years before H. C. R. died.

f Mr. Edgar Taylor was a very eminent solicitor, and an accomplished man.
He translated the French metrical chronicle, by Wace, entitled, "Roman de
Rou. " He also wrote a ' ' History of the German Minnesingers, " with translated
specimens ; and prepared a version of some of the admirable fairy stories of
the brothers Grimm : illustrated by George Cruikshank. And it is well known
that he was the "Layman " whose revised translation of the New Testament
was published by Pickering in 1840, shortly after his death. This work was
almost entirely prepared by him during a long and painful illness.

J Robert Roscoe. Like almost all William Roscoe's sons, an author and
poet. He died in 1850.

§ Henry Roscoe, author of "The Lives of Eminent Lawyers," &c. &c. He
died in 1836.

II Afterwards a Judge.

Chap. vi.
1820.

Monkhouse.

At Mr.

Edgar

Taylor s.

Sir John
Bowring.

200

Close of Year.

Chap. vi.

1820.

End of the
year.

is mild and amiable, and his tone of conversation agree-
able. He is in correspondence with the Spanish patriots,
and is an enthusiast in their cause.

So passed away the last hours of the year — a year
which I have enjoyed as I have the former years of my
life, but which has given me a deeper conviction than
I ever had of the insignificance of my own character.

A Picture of Mrs. Barbaiild.

201

CHAPTER VII.
1821.

January ist. — I dined at Collier's, and then went to
Covent Garden, where I saw "Virginius." Macready
very much pleased me. The truth of his performance is
admirable. His rich mellow tones are delightful, and
did he combine the expressive face of Kean with his
own voice,' he would far surpass Kean, for in judgment I
think him equal. The scene in which he betroths his
daughter is delightfully tender, but the catastrophe is
too long delayed and wants effect, and the last act is an
excrescence.

January 2\st. — I looked over papers, and at twelve
o'clock walked out. I called on the Colliers, and then
went to Mrs. Barbauld's. She was in good spirits, but
she is now the confirmed old lady. Independently of
her fine understanding and literary reputation, she
would be interesting. Her white locks, fair and un-
wrinkled skin, brilliant starched linen, and rich silk
gown, make her a fit object for a painter. Her conver-
sation is lively, her remarks judicious, and always
pertinent.

January "^oth. — This day being a holiday, I went to
Kemble's sale. I met Amyot there, and we had a

Chap. vii.
1821,

Macready.

Mrs.
Barbauld.

Kemble's
sale.

202

Prints and Art Criticism.

Chap. vii.

1821.

Wbxks of
art.

Tnlfourd's

call to the

Bar.

pleasant lounge together. Mr, and Mrs. Masquerier
and Lewis took tea with me, and stayed several hours
looking over my prints, and I enjoyed their pleasure.
Is it vanity, sympathy, or good-nature, or a compound
of all these feelings, which makes the owner of works
of art enjoy the exhibition t Besides this, he learns the
just appreciation of works of art, which is a positive
gain, if anything appertaining to taste may be called so.
February loth. — The evening was devoted to Tal-
fourd's call to the Bar, which was made more amusing
by the contemporaneous call of the Irish orator,
Phillips.* Talfourd had a numerous dinner-party, at
which I was the senior barrister. We were so much
more numerous than the other parties — there being
three besides Phillips's — that we took the head-table and
the lead in the business of the evening. Soon after we
were settled, with the dessert on the table, I gave
Talfourd's health. He, after returning thanks, gave as
a toast the Irish Bar, and in allusion to Phillips's call,
said that what had just taken place was a great gain
to England, and a loss to Ireland. This compliment
called up the orator, and he spoke in a subdued tone
and with a slowness that surprised me. I left the Hall
for an hour and a half to take tea with Manning.
When I returned Phillips was again on his legs, and
using a great deal of declamation. He spoke five times
in the course of the evening. Monkhouse came to the
Hall, and at about twelve we adjourned to Talfourd's
chambers, where an elegant supper was set out. In
bed at half-past two,

* Afterwards Commissioner of the Insolvent Court,

Flaxman^s Religiousness.

203

March lOth. — I took tea at Flaxman's, and enjoyed
the two hours I stayed there very much. Of all the
religious men I ever saw, he is the most amiable. The
utter absence of all polemical feeling — the disclaiming
of all speculative opinion as an essential to salvation —
the reference of faith to the affections, not the under-
standing, are points in which I most cordially concur
with him ; earnestly wishing at the same time that I
was in all respects like him.

Wordsworth to H. C. R.

i2tJi March, 182 1.
My dear Friend,

You were very good in writing me so long a letter,
and kind, in your own Robinsonian way. Your deter-
mination to withdraw from your profession in sufficient
time for an autumnal harvest of leisure, is of a piece
wit^ the rest of your consistent resolves and practices.
Consistent I have said, and why not rational? The
word would surely have been added, had not I felt that
it was awkwardly loading the sentence, and so truth
would have been sacrificed to a point of taste, but for
this compunction. Full surely you will do well ; but
take time ; it would be ungrateful to quit in haste a
profession that has used you so civilly. Would that I
could encourage the hope of passing a winter with you
in Rome, about the time you mention, which is just the

period I should myself select ! As to

poetry, I am sick of it ; it overruns the country in all
the shapes of the Plagues of Egypt — frog-poets (the
Croakers), mice-poets (the Nibblers), a class which Gray,

Chap, vii,
1821.

Flaxman.

Renouncing

your
profession.

Poetry an
epidemic.

204

Tradition of Goldsmith.

Chap. vii.
1821.

Academic

shades.

At
Witham.

Goldsmith.

Ancient
statue.

in his dignified way, calls flies, the "insect youth," — a
term wonderfully applicable upon this occasion. But
let us desist, or we shall be accused of envying the
rising generation. Mary and I passed some days at
Cambridge, where, what with the company of my dear
brother* — our stately apartments^ with all the venerable
portraits there, that awe one into humility — old friends,
new acquaintance, and a hundred familiar remem-
brances, and freshly conjured up recollections, I enjoyed
myself not a little. I should like to lend you a sonnet,
composed at Cambridge ; but it is reserved for cogent
reasons, to be imparted in due time. Farewell ! happy
shall we be to see you.

Wm. Wordsworth.

April i6th. — (On a visit to the Pattissons at Witham.)
I walked to Hatfield -f- with William, Looked into the
church — the Vicar, Bennet, was our cicerone. He spoke
of Goldsmith as a man he had seen. Goldsmith had
lodged at Springfield, with some farmers. He spent his
forenoons in his room, writing, and breakfasted off
water-gruel, without bread. In his manners he was a
bear. — " A tame one," I observed, and it was assented
to. He dressed shabbily, and was an odd man. No
further particulars could I get, except that while Gold-
smith was there, a gentleman took down some cottages,
which Bennet supposes gave rise to the " Deserted
Village." Bennet pointed out to us the antiquities of
his church ; among them a recumbent statue, which

* Dr. Christopher Wordsworth, Master of Trinity College, Cambridge.
t Hatfield Peverel, two miles from Witham.

Mrs. Barbaiild and the Lambs,

205

every one believed was a woman, till Flaxman came
and satisfied him that it was a priest.

April lyth. — Hayter, a painter in crayons,* dined with
us. He is taking a likeness of Mr. Pattisson, and is
certainly successful as a portrait painter. In other
respects he is a character. He is self-educated, but is
a sensible man, and blends humour with all he says.
And his affection for his children, one of whom is
already a promising young artist, gives a kind of
dignity to his character.

June \2th. — I accompanied my brother and sister to
Covent Garden. We had a crowding to get there. It
was Liston's benefit. He played delightfully Sam
Swipes in " Exchange no Robbery," his knavish father
passing him off as the foster-son of a gentleman who
had run away after entrusting him with the child. The
supposed father was admirably represented by Farren.
And these two performers afforded me more pleasure
than the theatre often gives me.

July yth. — I was busied about many things this fore-
noon. I'went for a short time to the King's Bench. Then
looked over Hamond's papers, and went to Saunders'
sale. Dined hastily in Coleman Street, and then went to
Mrs. Barbauld's, where I was soon joined by Charles and
Mary Lamb. This was a meeting I had brought about
to gratify mutual curiosity. The Lambs are pleased

* Mr. Charles Hayter, author of "A Treatise on Perspective," published in
1825, and generally considered successful in taking likenesses. He was the
father of the present Sir George Hayter and Mr. John Hayter, both dis-
tingtiished portrait painters, still living. Charles Hayter lodged at Witham
many months during 1821. His price for such crayon drawings was ten
guineas. The picture above referred to is still in possession of the family.

Chap. vir.

1821.

Hayter.

Liston.

Business.

Mrs. Bar-
bauld and
the Lambs.

206

A Misanthropist defined.

Chap. vii.
1821.

Dr.

Johnson.

Bury gaol.

with Mrs. Barbauld, and therefore it is probable that
they have pleased her. Mrs. C. Aikin was there, and
Miss Lawrence, Lamb was chatty, and suited his
conversation to his company, except that, speaking of
Gilbert Wakefield, he said he had a peevish face.
When he was told Mrs, Aikin was Gilbert Wakefield's
daughter, he was vexed, but got out of the scrape
tolerably well. I walked with the Lambs by the turn-
pike, and then came home, not to go to bed, but to sit
up till the Norwich coach should call for me, I had
several letters to write, which with packing, drinking
chocolate, &c., fully occupied my time, so that I had no
ennui, though I was unable to read.

Rem.* — One evening, when I was at the Aikins',
Charles Lamb told a droll story of an India-house
clerk accused of eating man's flesh, and remarked that
among cannibals those who rejected the favourite dish
would be called misanthropists.

Jidy 2%rd. — Finished Johnson's " Hebrides." I feel
ashamed of the delight it once afforded me. The style
is so pompous, the thoughts so ordinary, with so little
feeling, or imagination, or knowledge. Yet I once
admired it. What assurance have I that I may not
hereafter think as meanly of the books I now admire }

August 12//^.— *-(Bury.) I went with Pryme-j- to see
the gaol, which, notwithstanding its celebrity, I had not
visited. There I saw neither a filthy assemblage of
wretches brought together to be instructed for future

* Written in 1849.

t A fellow-circuiteer of H. C. R. 's, long M.P. for Cambridge. He was
also Professor of Political Economy in the University of Cambridge. He died
Dec. 19th, 1868.

Long Vacation Tour.

207

crimes rather than punished for past, nor a place of
ease and comfort, inviting rather than deterring to the
criminal. The garden, yards, and buildings have an air
of great neatness ; but this can hardly be a recommen-
dation to the prisoners. They are separated by many
subdivisions, and constantly exposed to inspection. In
the day they work at a mill, and at night all are
secluded. Each has his little cell. The all-important
thing is to avoid letting criminals be together in idleness.
To a spectator there is nothing offensive in this prison.
And certainly if its arrangements were followed univer-
sally, much misery would be prevented and good service
rendered to morality.

[In the autumn of this year Mr. Robinson made a tour
to Scotland of a little over a month. The chief personal
recollections are all that will be given here. — Ed.]

August 29///. — ^Visited Dryburgh Abbey. A day of
interest, apart from the beauties of my walk. Mrs.
Masquerier had 'given me a letter of introduction to the
well-known Earl of Buchan — a character. He married
her aunt, who was a Forbes, Lord Buchan, who was
advanced in years, had, by a life of sparing, restored in
a great measure the family from its sunken state ; but,
in doing this,'he had to endure the reproach of penurious
habits, while his two younger brothers acquired a bril-
liant reputation : one was Lord Erskine, the most perfect
of nisi prius orators, and one of the poorest of English
Chancellors, — the other, Henry Erskine, the elder brother,
enjoyed a higher reputation among friends, but, in the
inferior sphere of the Scotch courts, could not attain to
an equally wide-spread celebrity. Lord Buchan had

Chap. vii.
1821.

Lord
Buchan,

208

Lord Buchan.

Chap. vii.
■1821.

Lord
Erskine's
acceptance

of the
Chancellor-
ship.

Letters of
introduc-
tion.

been a dilettante in letters. He had written a life of
Thomson the poet, and of the patriotic orator, Fletcher
of Saltoun, the great opponent of the Scottish union.

Before I was introduced to the Earl, I saw in the
grounds ample monuments of his taste and character.
He received me cordially. He being from home when I
called, I left my letter, and walked in the grounds. On
my return, he himself opened the door for me, and said
to the servant, " Show Mr. Robinson into his bedroom.
You will spend the day here."

He was manifestly proud of his alliance with the
royal house of the Stuarts, but was not offended with
the free manner in which I spoke of the contemptible
pedant James I. of England. He exhibited many relics
of the unfortunate Mary ; and (says my journal) enu-
merated to me many of his ancestors, " whom my
imperfect recollections would have designated rather
as infamous than illustrious." But no man of family
ever heartily despised birth. He was a stanch Whig,
but had long retired from politics. He was proud of
his brother, the great English orator, but lamented his
acceptance of the Chancellorship. " I wrote him a
letter," said the Earl, " offering, if he would decline the
office, to settle my estate on his eldest son. Unluckily,
he did not receive my letter until it was too late, or he
might have accepted my offer ; his mind was so con-
fused when he announced the fact of the appointment,
that he signed his letter * Buchan.' "

The next day I left Dryburgh, furnished with a
useful letter to the Scotch antiquary and bookseller,
David Laing, who rendered me obliging offices at

Offer of a Letter to Sir Walter Scott.

209

Edinburgh. I had also a letter to the famous Sir
James Sinclair, the agriculturist, which I was not
anxious to deliver, as in it I was foolishly characterized
as a "really learned person," this being proveably false.
" The praises," says my journal, " usually contained in
letters of the kind one may swallow, because they
never mean more than that the writer likes the object
of them." Lord Buchan offered me a letter to Sir
Walter Scott, which I declined. I found that he had
no liking for Sir Walter, and I was therefore sure that
Sir Walter had no liking for him ; and it is bad policy
to deliver such letters. I regretted much that a letter
from Wordsworth to Scott reached me too late; that
I should have rejoiced to deliver.

My first concern at Edinburgh was to see Anthony
Robinson, Junr. He showed me such of the curiosities
of the place as were known to him. In his sitting-
room I complained of an offensive smell, which he
explained by opening a closet-door, and producing
some human limbs. He had bought these of the
resurrection men. He afterwards disappeared ; and on
his father's death, a commission was sent to Scotland
to collect evidence respecting Anthony Robinson, Junr.,
from which it was ascertained that he had not been
heard of for years. He had left his clothes, &c., at
Perth, and had gone to Edinburgh to continue his
studies ; and it was at Edinburgh that he was last
heard of. This being just before the dreadful exposure
took place of the murders effected by. burking, my
speculation was that poor Anthony was one of, the
victims.

VOL. II. P

Chap. vii.
1821.

Anthony

Robinson,

Junr.

Burking.

2IO

** Sabbath " Grahame.

Chap. vii.

1821.

Laing.

Andrew
Thomson.

yames
Grahame.

2nd September (Sunday). — Mr. David Laing took me
to hear Dr. Thomson, a very eminent Scotch preacher,
who had at Edinburgh the hke pre-eminence which Dr.
Chalmers had at Glasgow. But he appeared to me to
be a mere orator, profiting by a sonorous voice and a
commanding countenance. This, however, may be an
erroneous judgment.

This same day originated an acquaintance of which
I will now relate the beginning and the end. Walking
with Laing, he pointed out to me a young man.
"That," said he, "is James Grahame, nephew of the
poet of * The Sabbath.' " I begged Laing to introduce
me. His father's acquaintance I had made at Mr.
Clarkson's. This produced a very cordial reception,
and after spending a day (the 3rd) in a walk to Roslin
and Hawthornden (of which, if I said anything on such
subjects, I should have much to say), I went to an
evening party at Mr. Grahame's. Laing was there, and
my journal mentions a Sir W. Hamilton, the same
man, I have no doubt, who has lately been involved
in a controversy with our (University College) Pro-
fessor De Morgan on logic. My journal speaks of him
as, according to Laing, a young lawyer of brilliant
talents, a profound thinker, and conversant with Ger-
man philosophy and literature.

On the 9th of September an incident occurred espe-
cially amusing in connection with what took' place
immediately afterwards. I rose very early to see a new
place, and (it was between six and seven) seeing a
large building, I asked a man, who looked like a
journeyman weaver, what it was. He told me a

Dr. Chalmers.

211

grammar-school, " But, sir," he added, " I think it
would become you better on the Lord's Day morning
to be reading your Bible at home, than asking about
public buildings." I very quickly answered, " My
friend, you have given me a piece of very good advice ;
let me give you one, and we may both profit by our
meeting. Beware of spiritual pride." The man scowled
with a Scotch surliness, and, apparently, did not take
my counsel with as much good-humour as I did his.

It was after this that I heard Dr. Chalmers preach.
In the forenoon it was a plain discourse to plain people,
in a sort of school. In the afternoon it was a splendid
discourse, in the Tron Church, against the Judaical
observance of the Sabbath, which he termed "an
expedient for pacifying the jealousies of a God of
vengeance," — reprobating the operose drudgery of such
Sabbaths. He represented the whole value of Sabbath
observance to lie in its being a free and willing service
— a foretaste of heaven. "If you cannot breathe in
comfort here, you cannot breathe in heaven hereafter."
Many years afterwards, I mentioned this to Irving,
who was then the colleague of Chalmers, and already
spoken of as his rival in eloquence, and he told me
that the Deacons waited on the Doctor to remonstrate
with him on the occasion of this sermon.

That I may conclude with Dr. Chalmers now, let me
here say, that I was as much gratified with him as
I was dissatisfied with Andrew Thomson ; that he
appeared absorbed in his subject, utterly free from
ostentation, and forgetful of himself. I admired him
highly, ranking him with Robert Hall ; but I heard

P 2

Chap. vii.
1821.

The
Sabbath.

Dr. Chal-
mers as a
preacher.

212

Wordsworth's " Browttie."

Chap. vii.
1821.

Tom
Grahame.

Words-

worth's

Brownie.

him once too often. On my return from the Highlands,
T heard him on the 30th of September, in the morning,
on the sin against the Holy Ghost, which he declared
to be no particular sin, but a general indisposition to
the Gospel. " It can't be forgiven," he said, " because
the sinner can't comply with the condition — desire to
be forgiven," But it was the evening sermon which
left a painful impression on my mind. He affirmed the
doctrine of original sin in its most offensive form. He
declined to explain it.

The elder Mr. Grahame was one of the leading mem-
bers of the Doctor's congregation. He is very much
like his son, only milder, because older. He had
another son, still living, and whom I saw now and then.
This was Tom Grahame, an incarnation of the old
Covenanter, a fierce radical and ultra-Calvinist, who
has a warm-hearted, free way, which softens his other-
wise bitter religious spirit.

On September i6th I had a little adventure. Being
on the western side of Loch Lomond, opposite the
Mill, at Inversnaid, some women kindled a fire, the
smoke of which was to be a signal for a ferry-boat.
No ferryman came ; and a feeble old man offering him-
self as a boatman, I entrusted myself to him. L asked
the women who he was. They said, "That's old An-
drew." According to their account, he lived a hermit's
life in a lone island on the lake ; the poor peasantry
giving him meal and what he wanted, and he picking
up pence. On my asking him whether he would take
me across the lake, he said, "I wull, if you'll gi'e me
saxpence." So I consented. But before I was half

Intelligent Inqidsitiveness.

213

over, I repented of my rashness, for I feared the oars
would fall out of his hands. A breath of wind would
have rendered half the voyage too much for him.
There was some cunning mixed up with the fellow's
seeming imbecility, for when his strength was failing
he rested, and entered into talk, manifestly to amuse
me. He said he could see things before they happened.
He saw the Radicals before they came, &c. He had
picked up a few words of Spanish and German, which
he uttered ridiculously, and laughed. But when I put
troublesome questions, he affected not to understand
me ; and was quite astonished, as well as delighted,
when I gave him two sixpences instead of the one he
had bargained for. The simple-minded women, who
affected to look down on him, seemed, however, to
stand in awe of him, and no wonder. On my telling
Wordsworth this history, he exclaimed, "That's my
'Brownie.'" His " Brownie's Cell"* is by no means
one of my favourite poems. My sight of old Andrew
showed me the stuff out of which a poetical mind can ,
weave such a web. I

After visiting Stirling and Perth, I went to Crieff.
On my way I met a little Scotch girl, who exhibited a
favourable specimen of the national character. I asked
the name of the gentleman whose house I had passed,
and put it down in my pocket-book. "And do you
go about putting people's names in your book .?" —
" Yes." — " And what 's the use of it .?" Now this was
not said in an impertinent tone, as if she thought I

" Su Wordsworth's " Memorials of a Tour in Scotland in 1814," Vol. III.,
P- 44-

Chap. vii.
1821.

Second
sight.

Scotch girl.

214

open-air Preaching.

Chap. vii.
-1821.

Open-air
preaching.

was doing a silly act, but in the real spirit of nafve
inquiry.

On Saturday, the 22nd of September, I went by Comric
to Loch Earn head. On Sunday, the 23rd, by Killin to
Kenmore. I put down names of places which I would
gladly see again in my old age. This day I witnessed
a scene which still rests on my eye and ear. I will
abridge from my journal : — " It was in the forenoon,
a few miles from Kenmore, when, on the high road, I
was startled by a screaming noise, which I at first
mistook for quarrelling ; till, coming to a hedge, which
I overlooked, I beheld a scene which the greatest of
landscape painters in the historic line might have
delighted to represent. The sombre hue cast over
the field reminded me of Salvator Rosa. I looked
down into a meadow, at the bottom of which ran a
brook ; and in the background there was a dark
mountain frowning over a lake somewhat rippled by
wind. Against a tree on the river's bank was placed
a sort of box, and in this was a preacher, declaiming
in the Gaelic tongue to an audience full of admiration.
On the rising hill before him were some 200 or 300
listeners. Far the greater number were lying in groups,
but some standing. Among those present were ladies
genteelly dressed. In the harsh sounds which .grated
on my ear I could not distinguish a word, except a few
proper names of Hebrew persons."

Oil September the 29///, from Lanark, I visited the
Duke of Hamilton's palace, and had unusual pleasure
in the paintings to be seen there. I venture to copy my
remarks on the famous Rubens' " Daniel in the Lions'

Rubens* Daniel and the Lions.

215

Den :" — "The variety of character in the lions is admir-
able. Here is indignation at the unintelligible power
which restrains them ; there reverence towards the being
whom they dare not touch. One of them is consoled
by the contemplation of the last skull he has been
picking ; one is anticipating his next meal ; two are
debating the subject together. But the Prophet, with a
face resembling Curran's (foreshortened* so as to lose
its best expression), has all the muscles of his counte-
nance strained from extreme terror. He is without joy
or hope ; and though his doom is postponed, he has no
faith in the miracle which is to reward his integrity. It
is a painting rather to astonish than delight."

On the \st of October I passed a place the name of
which I could not have recollected twelve hours but for
the charm of verse :

" I wish I were where Ellen lies,
By fair Kirkconnel Lea."

On returning to England, a stout old lady, our coach
companion, rejoiced heartily that she was again in old
England, a mean rivulet being the insignificant
boundary. This feeling she persisted in retaining,

• Daniel's head is thrown back, and he looks upwards with an earnest
expression and clasped hands, as if vehemently supplicating. The picture
formerly belonged to King Charles I. It was at that time entered as
follows in the Catalogue of the Royal Pictures: — "A piece of Daniel in
the Lions' Den with Uons about him, given by the deceased Lord
Dorchester to the King, being so big as the Ufe. Done by Sir Peter
Paul Rubens." Dr. Waagen very justly observes that, upon the whole,
the figure of Daniel is only an accessory employed by the great master to
introduce, in the most perfect form, nine figures of lions and lionesses the size
of life. Rubens, in a letter to Sir Dudley Carleton (who presented the picture
to the King), dated April 28th, 1618, expressly states that it was wholly his
own workmanship. The price was 600 florins. Engraved in mezzotint by
W. Ward. 1789.

Chap. vii.

1821.

Rubens'

Daniel in

the Lions'

Den.

Kirkconnel
Lea.

2l6

De Quincey's Writings.

Chap. vii.
1821.

Ambleside.

The first

Mrs.

Quillinan.

De
Quincey.

Don Juan.

though an act of disobedience to the law which
annihilated England as a state, and though our supper
was worse than any lately partaken of by any of us in
Scotland.

October ^th. — I went to Ambleside, and for four days
I was either there or at Rydal Mount. My last year's
journey in Switzerland had improved my acquaintance
with the Wordsworth family, and raised it to friendship.
But my time was short, and I have nothing to record
beyond this fact, that Mrs. Wordsworth was then in
attendance upon a lady in a fever, consequent on lying
in, — Mrs. Quillinan, a lady I never saw, a daughter of
Sir Egerton Brydges.

October yth. — My journal mentions (what does not
belong to my recollections, but to my obliviscences) an
able pamphlet by Mr. De Quincey against Brougham,
written during the late election, entitled, " Close
Comments on a Straggling Speech " — a capital title, at
all events. All that De Quincey wrote, or writes, is
curious, if not valuable ; commencing with his best-
known " Confessions of an English Opium Eater," and
ending with his scandalous but painfully interesting
" Autobiography," in Tait's Magazine.

October 2ird. — To London on the Bury coach, and
enjoyed the ride. Storks, Dover, Rolfe, and Andrews
were inside playing whist. I was outside reading.
I read Cantos III., IV., and V. of "Don Juan." I
was amused by parts. There is a gaiety which is
agreeable enough when it is playful and ironical,
and here it is less malignant than it is in some of
Byron's writings. The gross violations of decorum and

Death of Mrs. Charles Aikin.

217

morality one is used to. I felt no resentment at the
lines —

" A drowsy, frowsy poem call'd ' The Excursion,'
Writ in a manner which is my aversion," *

nor at the afifected contempt throughout towards
Wordsworth. There are powerful descriptions, and
there is a beautiful Hymn to Greece. I began Madame
de Stael's "Ten Years' Exile." She writes with elo-
quence of Buonaparte, and her egotism is by no means
offensive.

October 26th. — Met Charles Aikin. I saw he had a
hatband, and he shocked me by the intelligence of his
wife's death. I saw her a few days before I set off on my
journey. She then appeared to be in her usual health.
The conversation between us was not remarkable ; but
I never saw her without pleasure, or left her without a
hope I should see her again. She was a very amiable
woman. She brought to the family a valuable accession
of feeling. To her I owe my introduction to Mrs.
Barbauld. I have been acquainted with her, though
without great intimacy, twenty-four years. She was
Gilbert Wakefield's eldest daughter, and not much
younger than myself.

November 2nd. — Finished Madame de Stael's "Ten
Years' Exile." A very interesting book in itself, and to
me especially interesting on account of my acquaint-
ance with the author. Her sketches of Russian manners
and society are very spirited, and her representation of
her own sufferings under Buonaparte's persecutions is
as eloquent as her novels. The style is animated,

* " Don Juan," Canto III., v. 94.

Chap, vii,
1821,

Mrs. C.
A ikiti.

Madame de

Stael's

''Ten

Years'

Exile."

211

Lord Mayor's Dinner.

Chap. vii.

1821.

De
Quincey.

Lord
Afayors
dinner.

The Lambs.

and her declamations against Napoleon are in her best
manner.

Noveinber ytk. — Called on De Quincey to speak about
the Classical Journal. I have recommended him to
Valpy, who will be glad of his assistance. De Quincey
speaks highly of the liberality of Taylor and Hessey,
who gave him forty guineas for his " Opium Eater."

November gth. — Dined at Guildhall. About 500 per-
sons present, perhaps 600. The tables were in five lines
down the hall. Gas illumination. The company all well
dressed at least. The ornaments of the hustings, with
the cleaned statues, &c., rendered the scene an imposing
one. I dined in the King's Bench, a quiet place, and
fitter for a substantial meal than the great hall. I was
placed next to Croly (newspaper writer and poet), and
near several persons of whom I knew something, so
that I did not want for society. Our dinner was good,
but ill-served and scanty. As soon as we had finished
a hasty dessert, I went into the great hall, where I was
amused by walking about. I ascended a small gallery
at the top of the hall, whence the view below was very
fine ; and I afterwards chatted with Firth, &c. Some
dozen judges and Serjeants were really ludicrous objects
in their full-bottomed wigs and scarlet robes. The
Dukes of York and Wellington, and several Ministers
of State, gave eclat to the occasion.

November \Zth. — I stepped into the Lambs' cottage
at Dalston. Mary, pale and thin, just recovered from
one of her attacks. They have lost their brother John,
and feel their loss. They seemed softened by affliction,
and to wish for society.

Flaxmaji on Animal Magnetism.

219

Poor old Captain Burney died on Saturday. The
rank Captain had become a misnomer, but I cannot call
him otherwise. He was made Admiral a few weeks ago.
He was a fine old man.* His whist parties were a great
enjoyment to me.

December i \th. — Dined with Monkhouse. Tom Clark-
son went with me. The interest of the evening arose
from MSS. of poems by Wordsworth, on the subject of
our journey. After waiting so long without writing
anything — so at least I understood when in Cumberland
— the fit has come on him, and within a short time he
has composed a number of delightful little poems ; and
Miss Hutchinson writes to Mr. Monkhouse that he goes
on writing with great activity .•}•

December ^ist. — At Flaxman's, where I spent several
hours very pleasantly. We talked of animal mag-
netism. Flaxman declared he believed it to be fraud
and imposition, an opinion I was not prepared for from
him. But the conversation led to some very singular
observations on his part, which show a state of mind by
no means unfit for the reception of the new doctrine.
He spoke of his dog's habit of fixing her eye upon him
when she wanted food, &c., so that he could not endure
the sight, and was forced to drive her away : this he
called an animal power ; and he intimated also a belief
in demoniacal influence ; so that it was not clear to

• The circumnavigator of the world with Captain Cook, and historian of
circumnavigation. A himiorous old man, friend of Charles Lamb, son of Dr.
Burney, and brother of Madame d'Arblay. Martin Burney was his son.—
H. C. R.

t These poems have been referred to in connection with the tour which
suggested them.

Chap. vii.
J821.

Admiral
Burney.

Words-
worth.

Flaxman
on animal
magnetism.

220

John Wood.

Chap. vii.
1821.

John
Wood.

Profes-
sional

me that he did not think that animal magnetism was
somewhat criminal, allowing its pretensions to be well-
founded, rather than supposing them to be vain. There
is frequently an earnestness that becomes uncomfortable
to listen to when Flaxman talks with religious feeling.

Rem.* — My Diary mentions " John Wood, a lively
genteel young man !" Now he is a man of importance
in the State, being the Chairman of the Board of
Inland Revenue. He was previously the head of the
Stamp Office and Chairman of Excise. In the latter
capacity he lately effected great economical reforms.
He is a rare example of independence and courage, not
renouncing the profession of his unpopular religious
opinions.

My practice this year was as insignificant as ever,
even falling off in the amount it produced ; the fees
being 572^ guineas, whereas in 1820 they were 663.

* Written in 1851.

Chantrey and his Studio.

221

CHAPTER VIII.

1822.

yamiary loth. — At twelve Monkhouse called. I
walked with him and had a high treat in a call at
Chantrey's, having to speak with him about Words-
worth's bust. What a contrast to Flaxman ! A
sturdy, florid-looking man, with a general resemblance
in character to Sir Astley Cooper, both looking more
like men of business and the world than artists or
students. Chantrey talks with the ease of one who
is familiar with good company, and with the confidence
of one who is conscious of his fame. His study is rich
in works of art. His busts are admirable. His com-
positions do not in general please me. He has in hand
a fine monument of EUenborough. A good likeness
too.*

January 22?id. — I went into court on account of a

* Chantrey was an excellent bust-maker, and he executed ably. He wanted
poetry and imagination. The Children in Litchfield Cathedral, which might
have given him reputation with ix)sterity, were the design of Stothard. It is to
Chantrey's high honoiu- that he left a large portion of his ample fortune,
after the death of his widow, for the encouragement of fine art, and made
for that purpose wise arrangements. Lady Chantrey gave all his casts, &c.,
to Oxford University, where they constitute a gallery. Asking Rogers its
value lately, he said, "As a collection of historical portraits, they are of great
value; as works of art, that," snapping his fingers. — H. C, R.

Chap. viii.
1822.

Chantrey.

222

Dreams and Prognostics.

Chap. viii.
1822.

Herodotus.

Dreams
verified.

single defence, which unexpectedly came on imme-
diately, and having succeeded in obtaining an acquittal,
I was able to leave Bury by the " Day " coach. I had
an agreeable ride, the weather being mild. I finished
" Herodotus," a book which has greatly amused me.
The impression most frequently repeated during the
perusal was that of the compatibility of great moral
wisdom with gross superstition. It is impossible to
deny that " Herodotus " encourages by his silence, if
not by more express encouragement, the belief in
outrageous fictions. The frequency of miracle in all
ancient history is unfavourable to the belief of that
affirmed in the Jewish history. This book inspires a
salutary horror of political despotism, but at the same
time a dangerous contempt of men at large, and an
uncomfortable suspicion of the pretensions of philoso-
phers and patriots.

February 2^th. — I went to Aders', and found him and
his wife alone. An interesting conversation. Mrs.
Aders talked in a tone of religion which I was pleased
with. At the same time she showed a tendency to
superstition which I could only wonder at. She has
repeatedly had dreams of events which subsequently
occurred, and sometimes with circumstances that ren-
dered the coincidence both significant and wonderful.
One is remarkable, and worth relating. She dreamed
when in Germany that a great illumination took place,
of what kind she was not aware. Two luminous balls
In one she saw her sister, Mrs. Longdale, with

arose.

an infant child in her arms. On the night of the illu-
mination on account of the Coronation (years after the

Wordswortfis **Tour^' Poems.

225

dream), she was called by Miss Watson into the back
drawing-room, to see a ball or luminous body which
had been let off at Hampstead. She went into the
room, and on a sudden it flashed on her mind with
painful feelings, "This was what I saw in my dream."
That same evening her sister died. She had been
lately brought to bed. The child lived.

H. C. R. TO Miss Wordsworth.

3, King's Bench,

2,1th February, 1822.
I am indeed a very bad correspondent, but a long
foolscap letter was written more than a fortnight back,
when I met Mr. Monkhouse, and he told me what
rendered my letter utterly inexpedient, for it was an
earnest exhortation to you and Mrs. Wordsworth to
urge the publication of the delightful poems, which is
now done ; and the expression of a wish that one of the
Journals might appear also, and that would be in vain.
I am heartily glad that so many imperishable records
will be left of incidents which I had the honour of
partially enjoying with you. The only drawback on
my pleasure is, that I fear when the book is once
published, Mr. Wordsworth may no longer be inclined
to meditate on what he saw and felt, and therefore
much may remain unsaid which would probably have
appeared in the Memorials, if they had been delayed till
1823. I hope I have not seen all, and I should rejoice
to find among the unseen poems some memorial of those
patriotic and pious bridges at Lucerne, suggesting to
so gefierative a mind as your brother's a whole cycle

Chap. viii.
1822.

Words-
worth's
Memorials
0/ a Tour

on the
Continent.

224

Wordsworth's Memorial Poems.

Chap. viri.
1822.

Poets need

no
frompter.

" The poet's
eye."

of religious and civic sentiments. The equally affecting
Senate-house not made by hands, at Sarnen, where the
rites of modern legislation, like those of ancient religion,
are performed in the open air, and on an unadorned
grass-plat ! ! ! But the poet needs no prompter ; I shall
be grateful to him for what he gives, and have no right
to reflect on what he withholds. I wish he may have
thought proper to preface each poem by a brief memo-
randum in prose. Like the great poet of Germany,
with whom he has so many high powers in common,
he has a strange love of riddles. Goethe carries further
the practice of not giving collateral information ; he
seems to anticipate the founding of a college for the
delivery of explanatory lectures like those instituted

in Tuscany for Dante.

•# # * * # «

My last letter, which I destroyed, was all about the
poems. I have not the vanity to think that my praise
can gratify, but I ought to say, since the verses to
Goddard were my suggestion, that I rejoice in my good
deed. It is instructive to observe how a poet sees and
feels, how remote from ordinary sentiment, and yet how
beautiful and true ! Goethe says he had never an
affliction which he did not turn into a poem. Mr.
Wordsworth has shown how common occurrences are
transmuted into poetry. Midas is the type of the true
poet. Of the Stanzas, I love most — loving all — the
" Eclipse of the Sun." Of the Sonnets, there is ojie
remarkable as unique ; the humour and nafvete, and
the exquisitely refined sentiment of the . Calais fish-
women are a combination of excellences quite novel.

TJie Lambs and their Grief.

225

I should, perhaps, have given the preference after all to
the Jungfrau Sonnet, but it wants unity. I know not
which to distinguish, the Simplon Stone, the Bruges, or
what else ? I have them not here. Each is the best
as I recollect the impression it made on me.

Miss Wordsworth to H. C. R.

ird March, 1822.

My brother will, I hope, write to Charles Lamb
in the course of a few days. He has long talked of
doing it ; but you know how the mastery of his own
thoughts (when engaged in composition, as he has
lately been) often prevents him from fulfilling his best
intentions ; and since the weakness of his eyes has
returned, he has been obliged to fill up all spaces of
leisure by going into the open air for refreshment and
relief of his eyes. We are very thankful that the
inflammation, chiefly in the lids, is now much abated.
It concerns us very much to hear so indifferent an
account of Lamb and his sister ; the death of their
brother, no doubt, has afflicted them much more than
the death of any brother, with whom there had, in near
neighbourhood, been so little personal or family com-
munication, would afflict any other minds. We deeply
lamented their loss, and wished to write to them as
soon as we heard of it ; but it not being the particular
duty of any one of us, and a painful task, we put it off,
for which we are now sorry, and very much blame our-
selves. They are too good and too confiding to take it
unkindly, and that thought makes us feel it the more.

VOL. II. Q

Chap. viii.
1822.

On the
Lambs.

226

Wordsivorth composing.

Chap. viii.
1822.

The Bridge
at Lucerne.

Hartley

Coleridge

an author.

, With respect to the tour poems, I am

afraid you will think my brother's notes not sufficiently
copious ; prefaces he has none, except to the poem on
Goddard's death. Your suggestion of the Bridge at
Lucerne set his mind to work ; and if a happy mood
comes on he is determined even yet, though the work is
printed, to add a poem on that subject. You can have
no idea with what earnest pleasure he seized the idea ;
yet, before he began to write at all, when he was pon-
dering over his recollections, and asking me for hints
and thoughts, I mentioned that very subject, and he then
thought he could make nothing of it. You certainly
have the gift of setting him on fire. When I named
(before your letter was read to him) your scheme for
next autumn, his countenance flushed with pleasure, and
he exclaimed, " I '11 go with him." Presently, however,
the conversation took a sober turn, and he concluded
that the journey would be impossible ; "and then," said
he, " if you or Mary, or both, were not with me, I should

not half enjoy it ; and that is impossible,"

We have had a long and interesting letter from Mrs.
Clarkson. Notwithstanding bad times, she writes in
cheerful spirits and talks of coming into the North this
summer, and we really hope it will not end in talk, as
Mr. Clarkson joins with her ; and if he once determines,
a trifle will not stop him. Pray read a paper in the
London Magazine, by Hartley Coleridge, on the Uses of
the Heathen Mythology in Poetry. It has pleased us
very much. The style is wonderful for so young a man

— so little of effort and no affectation

Dorothy Wordsworth.

Tendency of Byron's " CavL'

227

March \st. — Came home early from Aders' to read
" Cain." The author has not advanced any novelties in
his speculations on the origin of evil, but he has stated
one or two points with great effect. The book is
calculated to spread infidelity by furnishing a ready
expression to difficulties which must occur to every one,
more or less, and which are passed over by those who
confine themselves to scriptural representations. The
second act is full of poetic energy, and there is some truth
of passion in the scenes between Cain's wife and himself.

April ?>ih. — I had a very pleasant ride to London
from Bury. The day was fine, and was spent in
reading half a volume of amusing gossip — DTsraeli on
the literary character, in which the good and evil of
that by me most envied character are displayed so
as to repress envy without destroying respect. Yet I
would, after all, gladly exchange some portion of my
actual enjoyments for the intenser pleasures of a more
intellectual kind, though blended with pains and suffer-
ings from which I am free.

April \oth. — As I sat down to dinner, a young man
introduced himself to me by saying, " My name is
Poel."— "A son of my old friend at Altona ! " I
answered ; and I was heartily glad to see him. Indeed
the sight of him gave my mind such a turn, that I could
scarcely attend to the rest of the company. Poel was
but a boy in 1807. No wonder, therefore, that I had
no recollection of him. He, however, recognized me in
a moment, and he says I do not appear in the slightest
degree altered. I should have had a much heartier
pleasure in seeing him had I not known that his

Q 2

Chap. viir.
1822.

Byron' s
Cain.

D' Israeli
on the
literary

criaracter.

Foel.

228

Flaxman among Statesmen.

Chap. viii.
1822.

Words-
ID or tfi s
Memorials.

Madame
Vestris.

Chat with a
bricklayer.

Flaxman

among
statesmen.

mother died but a few months ago. She was a most
amiable and a superior woman. The father is now
advanced in years, but he retains, the son tells me, all
his former zeal for liberty.*

April ilth. — Took tea with the Flaxmans, and read
to them extracts from Wordsworth's new poems, " The
Memorials," And I ended the evening by going to
Drury Lane to see " Giovanni in London," a very
amusing extravaganza. Madame Vestris is a fascinat-
ing creature, and renders the Don as entertaining as
possible. And at the same time there is an air of irony
and mere wanton and assumed wickedness, which
renders the piece harmless enough. The parodies on
well-known songs, &c,, are well executed.

April 2^th. — Walked to Hammersmith and back.
On my way home I fell into chat with a shabby-looking
fellow, a master-bricklayer, whose appearance was that
of a very low person, but his conversation quite sur-
prised me. He talked about trade with the knowledge
of a practical man of business, enlightened by those
principles of political economy which indeed are be-
come common ; but I did not think they had alighted
on the hod and trowel. He did not talk of the books
of Adam Smith, but seemed imbued with their spirit.

May yth. — I took tea with the Flaxmans. Flaxman
related with undesigned humour some circumstances of
the dinner of the Royal Academy on Saturday. He
was seated between Cabinet Ministers! Such a man to
be placed near and to be expected to hold converse
with lyord Liverpool and the Marquis of Londonderry,

* F/V/f Vol. I., p. 237.

Charles Mathews at Home.

229

and his words. These were introduced in a sort of
biography of himself. In a second part of the enter-
tainment, three characters were perfect, — a servant
scrubbing his miserly master's coat, a French music-
master in the character of Cupid in a ballet, and (the
very best) a steward from a great dinner-party relating
the particulars of the dinner. He was half-drunk, and,
I know not how, Mathews so completely changed his
face that he was not to be known again. The fat Welsh-
man, the miser, and the lover, were less successful.

Chap. viii.
1822.

the Duke of Wellington, and Chateaubriand ! A greater
contrast cannot be conceived than between an artist
absorbed in his art, of the simplest manners, the purest
morals, incapable of intrigue or artifice, a genius in his
art, of pious feelings and an unworldly spirit, and a set
of statesmen and courtiers ! The only part of the
conversation he gave was a dispute whether spes makes
spei in the genitive, which was referred to the Chief
Justice of the King's Bench. Flaxman spoke favourably
of the conversation and manners of Lord Harrowby.

May \%th. — Took tea with the Nashes, and accom-
panied Elizabeth and Martha to Mathews's Mimetic
Exhibition. I was delighted with some parts. In a
performance of three hours' duration there could not
fail to be flat and uninteresting scenes ; e.g., his attempt
at representing Curran was a complete failure. I was
much pleased with a representation of John Wilkes
admonishing him, Mathews, when bound apprentice ;
Tate Wilkinson's talking on three or four subjects at
once, and an Irish party at whist. I really do believe
he has seen F , so completely has he copied his voice

C. Mathews
at Home.

2^0

Stonehenge.

Chap. viii.
1822.

Kobht Hood
Ballads.

Slmtcheuge.

An appeal

case in Hie

Lords.

May 22nd. — I read a considerable part of Ritson's
" Robin Hood Ballads," recommendable for the infor-
mation they communicate concerning the state of
society, rather than for the poetry, which is, I think,
far below the average of our old ballads.

May 2'^rd. — Visited Stonehenge, a very singular and
most remarkable monument of antiquity, exciting sur-
prise by the display of mechanical power, Avhich baffles
research into its origin and purposes, and leaves an
impression of wonder that such an astonishing work
should not have preserved the name of its founders.
Such a fragment of antiquity favours the speculation of
Schelling and the other German metaphysicians, concern-
ing a bygone age of culture and the arts and sciences.

ytme 1st. — Hundleby sent me, just before I went to
dinner, papers, in order to argue at ten on Monday
morning before the Lords (the Judges being sum-
moned) the famous case of Johnstone and Hubbard,
or, in the Exchequer Chamber, Hubbard and John-
stone, in which the Exchequer Chamber reversed the
decision of the King's Bench, the question being on
the effect of the Registry Acts on sales of ships at sea.
This case had been argued some seven or eight times
in the courts below, — among others, by two of the
Judges (Richardson and Parke), and had been pend-
ing fourteen years (the first action, indeed, against
Hubbard was in 1803). And on such a case I was to
prepare myself in a few hours, because Littledale, who
had attended the Lords three times, could not prepare
himself for want of time ! No wonder that I took
books into bed, and was in no very comfortable mood.

Appeal Case before the Lords.

231

June T^rd. — I rose before five and had the case on my
mind till past nine, when Hundleby called. He took
me down to Westminster in a boat. There I found
Carr in attendance. A little after ten I was called on,
and I began my argument before the Chancellor, Lord
Redesdale, one bishop, and nearly all the Judges. I
was nervous at first, but in the course of my argument
I gained courage, and Manning, who attended without
telling me he should do so (an act of such kindness and
friendship as I shall not soon forget), having whispered
a word of encouragement, I concluded with tolerable
comfort and satisfaction.

In the course of my argument I said one or two bold
things. Having referred to a late decision of the King's
Bench, which is, in effect, a complete overruling of the
case then before the Lords (Richardson v. Campbell,
5 B. and A. 196), I said : " My learned friend will say
that the cases are different. And they are different :
the Lord Chief Justice, in giving judgment, says so.
My Lords, since the short time that I have been in the
profession, nothing has excited my admiration so much
as the mingled delicacy and astuteness with which the
learned Judges of one court avoid overruling the
decisions of other courts. (Here Richardson, Parke,
and Bailey smiled, and the Chancellor winked.) It
would be indecorous in me to insinuate, even if I dared
to imagine, what the opinion of the Judges of the
King's Bench is ; but I beg your Lordships to consider
whether the reasoning of Lord Chief Justice Abbott
applies to that part of the case in which it differs from
the case before the House, or to that in which the cases

Chap. viii.

1822.

Pleading

before the

Lords.

Oveiruling

of
judgments.

H. c. r:s

grave

banter of

the Jvdges.

232

Old People Stupid.

Chap. viii.
1822.

A venire de
novo.

Br a ha III.

Old people.

are the same." I afterwards commented on a mistake
arising from confounding the words of the statute of
W. and those of 34 George III., and said : "This mis-
take has so pervaded the profession, that the present
reporters have put a false quotation into the lips of
the Chief Justice," I knowing that the Chief Justice
himself supplied the report.

After I had finished, Carr began his answer. But in a
few minutes the Chancellor found that the special ver-
dict was imperfectly framed, and directed a venire de novo
{i.e. a new trial). Carr and I are to consent to amend it.
Carr said to me very kindly, " on his honour, that he
thought I had argued it better than any one on my side."
Manning, too, said I had done it very well, and the
Chancellor, on my observing how unprepared my client
was to make alterations, said, " You have done so well at
a short notice, that I have no doubt you will manage
the rest very well." As Hundleby, too, was satisfied, I
came away enjoying myself without being at all gay,
like a man escaped from peril. I was, after all, by no
means satisfied with myself, and ascribed to good-nature
the compliments I had received.

yime ^th. — Went for half the evening to Drury Lane.
The few songs in the piece (the " Castle of Andalusia")
were sung by Braham — viz. " All's Well," and " Victory,"
songs sung by him on all occasions and on no occasion,
but they cannot be heard too often.

June gth. — Went to the Lambs'. Talfourd joined me
there. I was struck by an observation of Miss Lamb's,
" How stupid those old people are ! " Perhaps my
nephew's companions say so of my brother and me

SchlegcCs Cosmical Speculations.

233

already. Assuredly they will soon say so. Talfourd
and I walked home together late,

June lyth. — I went to call on the Lambs and take
leave, they setting out for France next morning. I gave
Miss Lamb a letter for Miss Williams, to whom I sent
a copy of *' Mrs. Leicester's School."* The Lambs have
a Frenchman as their companion, and Miss Lamb's nurse,
in case she should be ill. Lamb was in high spirits; his
sister rather nervous. Her courage in going is great.

June 2<^th. — Read to-day in the Vienna JaJirbiicher
der Literatnr a very learned and profound article on the
history of the creation in Genesis. I was ashamed of
my ignorance. Schlegel defends the Mosaic narrative,
but understands it in a higher sense than is usually
given to the history. His ideas are very curious. He
supposes man to have been created between the last
and last but one of the many revolutions the earth
has undergone, and adopts the conjecture, that the
Deluge was occasioned by a change in the position of
the equation, which turned the sea over the dry land,
and caused the bed of the ocean to become dry. He
also supposes chaos not to have been created by God,
but to have been the effect of sin in a former race of
creatures ! Of all this I know nothing. Perhaps no
man can usefully indulge in such speculations, but it is
at least honourable to attempt them.

July \Zth. — I finished "Sir Charles Grandison," a
book of great excellence, and which must have improved
the moral character of the age. Saving the somewhat
surfeiting compliments of the good people, it has not a

* A set of Tales by Mary Lamb, with three contributed by her brother.

Chap. viii.
1822.

Charles
and Mary
Lamb going
to France.

Schlegel on

the history

of the

creation.

Sir Charles
Grandison.

234

Lonz Vacation Tour.

Chap. viii.
E822.

Excursion .

George

iv:s

voyage to
Scot land.

Voyage
down the
Thames.

serious fault. The formality of the dialogue and style
is soon rendered endurable by the substantial worth
of what is said. In all the subordinate incidents Sir
Charles is certainly a beau ideal of a Christian and a
gentleman united. The story of Clementina is the glory
of the work, and is equal to anything in any language.

[Mr. Robinson's tour this year was principally in the
South of France. He kept a journal, as usual. A few
extracts will be given, but no connected account of the
journey.]

Atigtcst lOth. — At 7 A.M. I embarked on board the
Lord Melville steam-packet off the Tower Stairs,
London. Our departure was probably somewhat
retarded, and certainly rendered even festive, by the
expected fete of the day. The King was to set out on
his voyage to Scotland, and the City Companies' barges
had been suddenly ordered to attend him at Gravesend.
The river was therefore thronged with vessels of every
description, and the gaudy and glittering barges of the
Lord Mayor, and some four or five of the Companies',
gave a character to the scene. The appearance of
unusual bustle continued until we reached Gravesend,
near which the Royal Sovereign yacht was lying in
readiness for His Majesty. The day was fine, which
heightened the effect of the show. At Greenwich, the
crowds on land were immense ; at Gravesend, the show
was lost. Of the rest of the prospect I cannot say
much. The Thames is too wide for the shore, which is
low and uninteresting. The few prominent objects
were not particularly gratifying to me. The most
remarkable was a group of gibbets, with the fragments

Lamb's Likings in Paris.

235

of skeletons hanging on them. A few churches, the
Reculvers, and the town of Margate were the great
features of the picture,

August 20th. — (Paris.) Mary Lamb has begged me
to give her a day or two. She comes to Paris this
evening, and stays here a week. Her only male friend
is a Mr. Payne, whom she praises exceedingly for his
kindness and attentions to Charles. He is the author of
" Brutus," and has a good face.

Augttst 2ist. — (With Mary Lamb.) When Charles
went back to England he left a note for his sister's
direction. After pointing out a few pictures in the
Louvre, he proceeds : — " Then you must walk all along
the borough side of the Seine, facing the Tuileries.
There is a mile and a half of print-shops and bookstalls.
If the latter were but English ! Then there is a place
where the Paris people put all their dead people, and
bring them flowers, and dolls, and gingerbread-nuts, and
sonnets, and such trifles ; and that is all, I think, worth
seeing as sights, except that the streets and shops of
Paris are themselves the best sight." I had not seen
this letter when I took Mary Lamb a walk that
corresponds precisely with Lamb's taste, all of whose
likings I can always sympathize with, but not generally
with his dislikings.

August 22nd. — Aders introduced me to Devou, a
very Frenchman, but courteous and amiable, lively and
intelligent. He accompanied us to Marshal Soult's
house. But the Marshal was not at home. He would
have been a more interesting object than the Spanish
pictures which were his plunder in the kidnapping war.

Chap. vm.
1822,

Miss Lamb.

Lamb on
Paris
sights.

Marshal

Soult's

pictures.

236

De Lamennais.

Chap. viii.
1822.

Canova.

De
Liimennais.

Though the paintings by Murillo and Velasquez were
very interesting, I omit all mention of them. But
being taken to Count Sommariva's, I there saw what
has never been equalled by any other work of Canova,
though this was an early production, the Mary Mag-
dalene sitting on a cross. The truth and homely depth
of feeling in the expression are very striking.

On the 2nd of September I left Grenoble, and after
a hot and fatiguing journey of two nights and three
days, partly through a very beautiful country, I reached
Marseilles.

This journey was rendered interesting by the com-
panions I had in the diligence. A religiense from
Grenoble, and two professors of theology. One of

them Professor R , an especially ingratiating man.

He praised the lately published " Essai sur I'Indifference
en Matiere de Religion," and offered me a copy. But I
promised to get it.

Rem* — This I did. It was the famous work of
De Lamennais, of which only two volumes were then
published. A book of great eloquence, by a writer
who has played a sad part in his day. From being the
ultramontanist, and exposing himself to punishment
in France as the libeller of the Eglise Gallicane, he
became the assailant of the Pope, and an ultra-radical,
combining an extreme sentimental French chartism
with a spiritualism of his own. He has of late years
been the associate of George Sand. Her " Spiridion,"
it is said, was written when travelling with him.

September Afth. — It was during this night, and perhaps

* Written in 1851.

Office of Procureur du Roi.

237

between two and three, that we passed the town of
Manosque, where a new passenger was taken in, who
announced his office as Prociiretir dii Roi to the people
in a tone which made me fear we should meet with an
assuming companion. On the contrary, he contributed
to render the day very agreeable.

I talked law with him, and obtained interesting
information concerning the proceedings in the French
administration of justice. It appears that within his
district — there are about 500 Prociireurs du Roi in the
country — ^he has the superintendence of all the criminal
business. When a robbery or other offence is committed,
the parties come to him. He receives the complaint,
and sends the gendarmerie in search of the offender.
When a murder or act of arson has been perpetrated,
he repairs to the spot. In short, he is a sort of coroner
and high sheriff as well as public prosecutor, and at the
public expense he carries on the suit to conviction or
acquittal.

On inquiry of the steps he would take on informa-
tion that a person had been killed in a duel, he said, that
if he found a man had killed his adversary in the
defence of his person, he should consider him as inno-
cent, and not put him on his trial. I asked, "If you find
the party killed in b. fair duel, what then.?" — "Take upi
my papers and go home, and perhaps play a rubber at
night with the man who had killed his adversary." I
am confident of these words, for they made an impres-
sion on me. But I think the law is altered now.

October /^th. — We had for a short distance in the
diligence an amusing young priest — the only lively

Chap. viii.
1822.

Criminal
French law.

Office of

Procureur

du Roi.

Duelling in
France.

238

Bon mot of Talleyrand.

Chap. viii.
1822.

Nephew s

and
Talfourd' s
marriage.

De Liimen-

nais on
Religious

hidif-
ference.

man of his cloth I have seen in France. He
told anecdotes with great glee ; among others the
following : —

When Madame de Stael put to Talleyrand the trou-
blesome question what he would have done had he seen
her and Madame de R^camier in danger of drowning,
instead of the certainly uncharacteristic and sentimental
speech commonly put into his lips as the answer, viz.
that he should have jumped into the water and saved
Madame de Stael, and then jumped in and died with
Madame de R^camier — instead of this, Talleyrand's
answer was, "Ah! Madame de Stael sait tant de choses
que sans doute. elle pent nager ! "

October I'^th. — At home. I had papers and letters to
look at, though in small quantity. My nephew came
and breakfasted with me. He did not bring the news,
for Burch of Canterbury had informed me of his mar-
riage with Miss Hutchison. I afterwards saw Manning ;
also Talfourd, who was married to Miss Rachel Rutt
during the long vacation.

October \/^th. — I rode to Norwich on the "Day"
coach, and was nearly all the time occupied in read-
ing the Abbe De Lamennais' " Essai sur ITndifference,"
an eloquent and very able work against religious in-
difference, in which, however, he advocates the cause of
Popery, without in the slightest degree accommodating
himself to the spirit of the age. He treats alike
Lutherans, Socinians, Deists, and Atheists. I have not
yet read far enough to be aware of his proofs in favour
of his own infallible Church, and probably that is
assumed, not proved ; but his skill is very great and

Coleridge.

239

masterly in exposing infidelity, and especially the incon-
sistencies of Rousseau,

December (^th. — Heard to-day of the death of Dr.
Aikin — a thing not to be lamented. He had for years
sunk into imbecility, after a youth and middle age of
extensive activity. He was in his better days a man of
talents, and of the highest personal worth, — one of the
salt of the earth.

December 21st. — The afternoon I spent at Aders'. A
large party, — a splendid dinner, prepared by a French
cook, and music in the evening. Coleridge was the star
of the evening. He talked in his usual way, though with
more liberality than when I saw him last some years
ago. But he was somewhat less animated and brilliant
and paradoxical. The music was enjoyed by Coleridge,
but I could have dispensed with it for the sake of his
conversation.

" For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense."

December 2,^ St. — The New Year's eve I spent, as I
have done frequently, at Flaxman's. And so I con-
cluded a year, like so many preceding, of uninterrupted
pleasure and health ; with an increase of fortune and no
loss of rep.utation. Though, as has always been the case,
I am not by any means satisfied with my conduct, yet
I have no matter of self-reproach as far as the world is
concerned. My fees amounted to 629 guineas.

Chap. viii.
1822.

Dr. Aikin s
death.

Coleridge.

Retrospect
of the year.

240

Lamb in Sober Mood.

Chap. tx.
1823.

Lamb

serious

■when

tite-a-tSte.

Sonthey.

CHAPTER IX.
1823.

Janimry Zth. — Went in the evening to Lamb. I have
seldom spent a more agreeable few hours with him.
He was serious and kind — his wit was subordinate to
his judgment, as is usual in tete-^-tete parties. Speak-
ing of Coleridge, he said, " He ought not to have a
wife or children ; he should have a sort of diocesan
care of the world — no parish duty." Lamb repro-
bated the prosecution of Byron's " Vision of Judgment."
Southey's poem of the same name is more worthy of
punishment, for his has an arrogance beyond endurance.
Lord Byron's satire is one of the most good-natured
description — no malevolence.

February 26th. — A letter from Southey. I was glad
to find he had taken in good part a letter I had written
to him on some points of general politics, &c., the pro-
priety of writing which I had myself doubted.

Southey to H. C. R.

Keswick, 22nd February, 1823.
My dear Sir,

I beg your pardon for not having returned the

MSS. which you left here a year and a half ago, when

I was unlucky enough to miss seeing you. I thought

to have taken them myself to London long ere this,

Southey o)i his History.

241

and put off acknowledging them till a more convenient
season from time to time. But good intentions are no
excuse for sins of omission. I heartily beg your
pardon, — and will return them to you in person in the
ensuing spring.

I shall be at Norwich in the course of my travels, —
and of course see William Taylor. As for vulgar
imputations, you need not be told how little I regard
them. My way of life has been straightforward and —
as the inscription upon Akbar's seal says, — " I never
saw any one lost upon a straight road," To those who
know me, my life is my justification ; to those who do
not, my writings would be, in their whole tenor, if they
were just enough to ascertain what my opinions are
before they malign me for advancing them.

What the plausible objection to my history* which
you have repeated means, I cannot comprehend, —
" That I have wilfully disregarded those changes in the
Spanish character which might have been advan-
tageously drawn from the spirit of the age in the more
enlightened parts of Europe," I cannot guess at what
is meant.

Of the old governments in the Peninsula, my opinion
is expressed in terms of strong condemnation, — not in
this work only, but in the " History of Brazil," where-
ever there was occasion to touch upon the subject.
They are only not so bad as a Jacobinical tyranny,
which, while it continues, destroys the only good that
these governments left (that is, order), and terminates

* The first volume of Southey's "History of the Peninsular War." The
second volume was published in 1827, and the third in 1833.

VOL. II. R

Chap. ix.
1823.

Southey's

justification

0/ his

History of

the Spanish

War.

On the old
risimes.

242

Civil Wars of Spain.

Chap. ix.

1823.

On 7ion-i?i-
terferencc.

Sonthey s
judgment
tmbiasscd.

Gcrtnan
rule in
Italy.

The least of
two evils.

at last in a stronger despotism than that which it has
overthrown. I distrust the French, because, whether
under a Bourbon or a Buonaparte, they are French still ;
but if their government were upright, and their people
honourable, in that case I should say that their
interference with Spain was a question of expediency ;
and that justice, and humanity, as well as policy, would
require them to put an end to the commotions in that
wretched country, and restore order there, if this could be
effected. But I do not see how they can effect it. And
when such men as Mina and Erolles are opposed to
each other, I cannot but feel how desperately bad the
system must be which each is endeavouring to suppress ;
and were it in my power, by a wish, to decide the
struggle on one side or the other, so strongly do I per-
ceive the evils on either side, that I confess I should
want resolution and determination.

You express a wish that my judgment were left
unshackled to its own free operation. In God's name,
what is there to shackle it .'* I neither court preferment,
nor popularity ; and care as little for the favour of the
great as for the obloquy of the vulgar. Concerning
Venice, — I have spoken as strongly as you could desire.
Concerning Genoa, — instead of giving it to Sardinia, I
wish it could have been sold to Corsica. The Germans
were originally invited to govern Italy, because the
Italians were too depraved and too divided to govern
themselves. You cannot wish more sincerely than I do
that the same cause did not exist to render the con-
tinuance of their dominion — not indeed a good — but
certainly, under present circumstances, the least of two

Order preferred to Freedom.

243

evils. It is a bad government, and a clumsy one ; — and,
indeed, the best foreign dominion can never be better
than a necessary evil.

Your last question is — what I think of the King of
Prussia's utter disregard of his promises } You are far
better qualified to judge of the state of his dominions
than I can be. But I would ask you, whether the recent
experiments which have been made of establishing
representative governments are likely to encourage
or deter those princes who may formerly have wished
to introduce them in their states .-' And whether the
state of England, since the conclusion of the war, has
been such as would recommend or disparage the
English constitution, to those who may once have
considered it as the fair ideal of a well-balanced
government } The English Liberals and the English
press are the worst enemies of liberty.

It will not be very long before my speculations upon
the prospects of society will be before the world. You
will then see that my best endeavours for the real
interests of humanity have not been wanting. Those
interests are best consulted now by the maintenance of
order. Maintain order, and the spirit of the age will
act surely and safely upon the governments of Europe.
But if the Anarchists prevail, there is an end of all
freedom ; a generation like that of Sylla, or Robe-
spierre, will be succeeded by a despotism, appearing
like a golden age at first, but leading, like the
Augustan age, to the thorough degradation of every-
thing.

I have answered you, though hastily, as fully as the

R 2

Chap. ix.
1823.

imported

forms of re-

presentalive

government.

Liberal

enemies to

liberty.

Order the
end to be
aimed at.

244

Garrow about himself.

Chap. ix.

1823.

Difference
from
Words-
worth on
the Cintra
convention.

Baron
Garrow.

limits of a letter will admit, — fairly, freely, and willingly.
My views are clear and consistent, and, could they be
inscribed on my grave-stone, I should desire no better
epitaph.

Wordsworth is at Coleorton, and will be in London
long before me. He is not satisfied with my account
of the convention of Cintra : the rest of the book he
likes well. Our difference here is, that he looks at the
principle, abstractedly, and I take into view the cir-
cumstances.

When you come into this country again, give me a
few days. I have a great deal both within doors and
without which I should have great pleasure in showing
you. Farewell ! and believe me

Yours sincerely,

Robert Southey.

March \st. — (On circuit.) We dined with Garrow.
He was very chatty. He talked about his being
retained for Fox, on the celebrated scrutiny in 1784
before the House of Commons, " to which," he said, " I
owe the rank I have the honour to fill." He mentioned
the circumstances under which he went first to the bar
of the Commons. He was sent for on a sudden, with-
out preparation, almost without reading his brief. He
spoke for two hours, " and it was," he said, " the best
speech I ever made. Kenyon was Master of the Rolls,
hating all I said, but he came down to the bar and said,
good-naturedly, * Your business is done ; now you '11 get
on.' " Garrow talked of himself with pleasure, but with-
out expressing any extravagant opinions about himself.

Wtt/t Wordsworth and Moore.

245

April 2nd. — An interesting day. After breakfasting
at Monkhouse's, I walked out with Wordsworth, his son
John, and Monkhouse. We first called at Sir George
Beaumont's to see his fragment of Michael Angelo — a
piece of sculpture in bas and haut relief — a holy family.
The Virgin has the child in her lap ; he clings to her,
alarmed by something St. John holds towards him,
probably intended for a bird. The expression of the
infant's face and the beauty of his limbs cannot well be
surpassed. Sir George supposes that Michael Angelo
was so persuaded he could not heighten the effect
by completing it, that he never finished it. There is
also a very fine landscape by Rubens, full of power
and striking effect. It is highly praised by Sir
George for its execution, the management of its lights,
its gradation, &c.

Sir George is a very elegant man, and talks well on
matters of art. Lady Beaumont is a gentlewoman of
great sweetness and dignity. I should think among
the most interesting by far of persons of quality in
the country. I should have thought this, even had I
not known of their great attachment to Wordsworth.

We then called on Moore, and had a very pleasant
hour's chat with him. Politics were a safer topic than
poetry, though on this the lapinions of Wordsworth and
Moore are nearly as adverse as their poetic character.
Moore spoke freely and in a tone I cordially sympa-
thized with about France and the Bourbons. He
considers it quite uncertain how the French will feel
at any time on any occasion, so volatile and vehement
are they at the same time. Yet he thinks that, as far

Chap. ix.

1823.

A day with
Words-
worth.

Fragment

of Michael

Angelo' s.

Sir George
and Lady
Beaumont.

Moore.

Moore on
the French.

246

A Quintctt of Poets :

Chap. ix.
1823.

0/1 French
poetry.

Dinner at
Mo Ilk-
house's.

as they have any thought on the matter, it is in favour
of the Spaniards and hberal opinions. Notwithstand-
ing this, he says he is disposed to assent to the
notion, that of all the people in Europe, the French
alone are unfit for liberty. Wordsworth freely con-
tradicted some of Moore's assertions, but assented to
the last.

Of French poetry Moore did not speak highly, and
he thinks that Chenevix has overrated the living poets
in his late articles in the Edinburgh Review. Moore's
person is very small, his countenance lively rather than
intellectual. I should judge him to be kind-hearted and
friendly.

Wordsworth and I went afterwards to the Society of
Arts, and took shelter during a heavy rain in the great
room. Wordsworth's curiosity was raised and soon
satisfied by Barry's pictures.

Concluded my day at Monkhouse's. The Lambs
were there.

April ^th. — Dined at Monkhouse's. Our party con-
sisted of Wordsworth, Coleridge, Lamb, Moore, and
Rogers. Five poets of very unequal worth and most
disproportionate popularity, whom the public probably
would arrange in a dift"erent order. During this
afternoon, Coleridge alone displayed any of his pecu-
liar talent. I have not for years seen him in such
excellent health and with so fine a flow of spirits. His
discourse was addressed chiefly to Wordsworth, on
points of metaphysical criticism — Rogers occasionally
interposing a remark. The only one of the poets who
seemed not to enjoy himself was Moore. He was very

Moore s Account of it.

247

attentive to Coleridge, but seemed to relish Lamb, next
to whom he was placed.

Rem* — Of this dinner an account is given in Moore's
Life, which account is quoted in the AthencBum of
April 23rd, 1853. Moore writes: — "April 4th, 1823.
Dined at Mr. Monkhouse's (a gentleman I had never
seen before) on Wordsworth's invitation, who lives there
whenever he comes to town. A singular party. Cole-
ridge, Rogers, Wordsworth and wife, Charles Lamb,
(the hero at present of the London Magazine) and his
sister (the poor woman who went mad in a diligence on
the way to Paris), and a Mr. Robinson, one of the
minora sidera of this constellation of the Lakes ; the
host himself, a Maecenas of the school, contributing
nothing but good dinners and silence. Charles Lamb,
a clever fellow, certainly, but full of villanous and
abortive puns, which he miscarries of every minute.
Some excellent things, however, have come from him."
Charles Lamb is indeed praised by a word the most
unsuitable imaginable, for he was by no means a
clever man ; and dear Mary Lamb, a woman of sin-
gular good sense, who, when really herself, and free
from the malady that periodically assailed her, was
quiet and judicious in an eminent degree — this ad-
mirable person is dryly noticed as "the poor woman
who went mad in a diligence," &c. Moore is not to
be blamed for this — they were strangers to him. The
Atlienceiim Reviewer, who quotes this passage from
Moore, remarks : " The tone is not to our liking," and
it is added, " We should like to see Lamb's account."

* Written in 1853.

Chap. ix.

1823.

Moore's
account of
the dinner.

248

LaniUs Account, and H. C. R.'s.

Chap. ix.

1823.

Lamb's
account of
the dinner.

H. c. r:s

account of
the dmner.

This occasioned my sending to the AthencBuni (June
25th, 1853) a letter by Lamb to Bernard Barton*
" Dear Sir, — I wished for you yesterday. I dined in
Parnassus with Wordsworth, Coleridge, Rogers, and
Tom Moore : half the poetry of England constellated
in Gloucester Place ! It was a delightful evening ! Cole-
ridge was in his finest vein of talk — had all the talk ;
and let 'em talk as evilly as they do of the envy of poets,
I am sure not one there but was content to be nothing
but a listener. The Muses were dumb while Apollo
lectured on his and their fine art. It is a lie that poets
are envious : I have known the best of them, and can
speak to it, that they give each other their merits, and
are the kindest critics as well as best authors. I am
scribbling a muddy epistle with an aching head, for we
did not quaff Hippocrene last night, marry ! It was
hippocrass rather."

Lamb was in a happy frame, and I can still recall to
my mind the look and tone with which he addressed
Moore, when he could not articulate vei-y distinctly : —
" Mister Moore, will you drink a glass of wine with
me T — suiting the action to the word, and hobnobbing.
Then he went on : " Mister Moore, till now I have
always felt an antipathy to you, but now that I have
seen you I shall like you ever after." Some years after
I mentioned this to Moore. He recollected the fact,
but not Lamb's amusing manner. Moore's talent was
of another sort ; for many years he had been the most
brilliant man of his company. In anecdote, small-
talk, and especially in singing, he was supreme ; but

* Lamb's Works, Vol. I., p. 204.

TJie Poets at a Concert.

249

he was no match for Coleridge in his vein. As Httle
could he feel Lamb's humour.

Besides these five bards were no one but Mrs. Words-
worth, Miss Hutchinson, Mary Lamb, and Mrs. Gilman.
I was at the bottom of the table, where I very ill per-
formed my part.

April 5 th. — Went to a large musical party at Aders',
in Euston Square. This party I had made for them.
Wordsworth, Monkhouse, and the ladies, the Flaxmans,
Coleridge, Mr. and Mrs. Gilman, and Rogers, were my
friends. I noticed a great diversity in the enjoyment of
the music, which was first-rate. Wordsworth declared
himself perfectly delighted and satisfied, but he sat
alone, silent, and with his face covered, and was generally
supposed to be asleep. Flaxman, too, confessed that he
could not endure fine music for long. But Coleridge's
enjoyment was very lively and openly expressed.

. April I2)th. — Dover lately lent me a very curious
letter, written in 1757 by Thurlow to a Mr. Caldwell,
who appears to have wanted his general advice how to
annoy the parson of his parish. The letter fills several
sheets, and is a laborious enumeration of statutes and
canons, imposing an infinite variety of vexatious and
burdensome duties on clergymen. Thurlow begins by
saying : " I have confined myself to consider how a
parson lies obnoxious to the criminal laws of the land,
both ecclesiastical and secular, upon account of his
character and office, omitting those instances in which
all men are equally liable." And he terminates his
review by a triumphant declaration : — " I hope my Lord
Leicester will think, even by this short sketch, that I

Chap. ix.
1823.

Musical
party at
Aders.

The poets'

diverse love

of music.

Thurlow' i

advice how

to annoy

parsons.

250

Lord Thiirlow's CJmrcJiism.

Chap. ix.

1823.

Thurlow

on the

Athana-

sian Creed.

Coleridge
at whist.

did not talk idly to him, when I said that parsons were
so hemmed in by canons and statutes, that they can
hardly breathe, according to law, if they are strictly
watched."

Scarcely any of the topics treated of have any
interest, being for the most part technical ; but after
writing of the Statutes of Uniformity, especially 13th
and 14th Ch. II. c. 64, he has this passage : — " I have
mentioned these severe statutes and canons, because I
have known many clergymen, and those of the best
character, followers of Eusebius, who have, in the very
face of all these laws, refused to read the Athanasian
Creed. Considering the shocking absurdity of this
creed, I should think it a cruel thing to punish anybody
for not reading it but those who have sworn to read it,
and who have great incomes for upholding that per-
suasion."

. . . neque enim lex est sequior ulla
Quam necis artifices arte perire sua.

May 2nd. — Having discharged some visits, I had
barely time to return to dress for a party at Mr.
Green's, Lincoln's Inn Fields. An agreeable party.
Coleridge was the only talker, and he did not talk his
best ; he repeated one of his own jokes, by which
he offended a Methodist at the whist-table ; calling for
her last trump, and confessing that, though he always
thought her an angel, he had not before known her to
be an archangel.

Rem.* — Early in May my sister came to London
to obtain surgical advice. She consulted Sir Astley

* Written in 1851.

Consulthig Abernethy.

2;i

Cooper, Cline, and Abernethy. Abernethy she de-
clared to be the most feehng and tender surgeon she
had ever consulted. His behaviour was characteristic,
and would have been amusing, if the gravity of the
occasion allowed of its being seen from a comic point
of view. My sister calling on him as he was going out,
said, by way of apology, she would not detain him two
minutes. " What ! you expect me to give you my
advice in two minutes .-' I will do no such thing. I
know nothing about you, or your mode of living. I
can be of no use. Well, I am not the first you have
spoken to ; whom have you seen i* — Cooper i* — Ah !
very clever with his fingers ; and whom besides .? —
Cline 1 — why come to me then ? you need not go to
any one after him. He is a sound man."

May 2lst. — Luckily for me, for I was quite unpre-
pared, a tithe case in which I was engaged was put off
till the full term. Being thus unexpectedly relieved, I
devoted great part of the forenoon to a delightful stroll.
I walked through the Green Park towards Brompton ;
and knowing that with the great Bath road on my
right, and the Thames on my left, I could not greatly
err, I went on without inquiry. I found myself at
Chelsea. Saw the new Gothic church, and was pleased
with the spire, though the barn-like nave, and the
slender and feeble flying buttresses, confirmed the
expectation that modern Gothic would be a failure.
Poverty or economy is fatal in its effects on a style of
architecture which is nothing if it be not rich. I turned
afterwards to the right, through Walham Common, and
arrived at Naylor's at three. The great man whom we

Chap. ix.

1823.
Abernethy.

Modern
Gothic.

252

Irving — Jiis Appearance :

Chap. ix.

1823.

Ifving.

were met to admire came soon after. It was the
famous Scotch preacher, the associate of Dr. Chalmers
at Glasgow, Mr. Irving. He was brought by his
admirer, an acquaintance of Naylor's, a Mr. Laurie,*
a worthy Scotchman, who to-day was in the back-
ground, but speaks at religious meetings, Naylor says.
There was also Thomas Clarkson, not in his place to-day.
Irving on the whole pleased me. Little or no assump-
tion, easy and seemingly kind-hearted, talking not more
of his labours in attending public meetings (he was
come from one) than might be excused ; he did not
obtrude any religious talk, and was not dogmatical.

Rem.-\ — Irving had a remarkably fine figure and face,
and Mrs. Basil Montagu said it was a question with the
ladies whether his squint was a grace or a deformity.
My answer would have been. It enhances the effect
either way. A better saying of Mrs. Montagu's was,
that he might stand as a model for St. John the Baptist
— indeed for any Saint dwelling in the wilderness and
feeding on locusts and wild honey. Those who took an
impression unpropitious to him, might liken him to an
Italian bandit. He has a powerful voice, feels always
warmly, is prompt in his expression, and not very careful
of his words. His opinions I liked. At the meeting he
had attended in the morning (it was of a Continental
Bible Society), he attacked the English Church as a
persecuting Church, and opposed Wilberforce, who had
urged prudent and tcnoffending proceedings. I told
Irving of my Scotch journey. He informed me that the
sermon I heard Dr. Chalmers preach against the Judaical

* Afterwards Sir Peter.— i?^/«. 1851. t Written in 1851.

His PreacJmig.

253

spending of the Sabbath, had given offence to the
elders, who remonstrated with him about it * He only-
replied that he was glad his sermon had excited so
much attention. On my expressing my surprise that
Dr. Chalmers should leave Glasgow for St. Andrew's,
Irving said it was the best thing he could do. He had,
by excess of labour, worn out both his mind and body.
He ought for three or four years to do nothing at all, but
recruit his health. We talked a little about literature.
Irving spoke highly of Wordsworth as a poet, and
praised his natural piety.

May 2$th. — After reading a short time, I went to
the Caledonian Chapel, to hear Mr. Irving. Very mixed
impressions. I do not wonder that his preaching
should be thought to be acting, or at least as indicative
of vanity as of devotion. I overheard some old ladies
in Hatton Garden declaring that it was not pure gospel ;
they did not wish to hear any more, &c. The most
unfavourable circumstance, as tending to confirm this
suspicion, is a want of keeping in his discourse. Abrupt
changes of style, as if written (and it was written) at
a dozen different sittings. His tone equally variable.
No master-feeling running through the whole, like the
red string through the Royal Marine ropes, to borrow
an image from Goethe. Yet his sermon was very im-
pressive. I caught myself wandering but once. It
began with a very promising division of his subject.
His problem to show how the spiritual man is equally
opposed to the sensual, the intellectual, and the moral
man, but he expatiated chiefly on the sensual character.

• Vide page 211.

Chap. ix.
1823.

Chalmers

sermon on

the Sabbath.

Irving s
preaching.

254

Irving' s Doctrine.

Chap. ix.
1823.

Irvittifs
preaching.

On the
intellccfual
and spiri-
tual man.

He drew some striking pictures. He was very vehe-
ment, both in gesticulation and declamation. To me
there was much novelty, perhaps because I am less
familiar with Scotch than English preaching. Basil
Montagu and several young barristers were there. The
aisles were crowded by the profane, at least by persons
drawn by curiosity.

Rem.* — One unquestionable merit he had — he read
the Scriptures most beautifully ; he gave a new sense to
them. Even the Scotch hymns, when he recited them,
were rendered endurable. Of my own acquaintance
with him I shall speak hereafter.

yune d>th. — I attended Mrs. J. Fordham to hear Mr.
Irving, and was better pleased with him than before.
There was an air of greater sincerity in him, and his
peculiarities were less offensive. His discourse was a
continuation of last week's — on the intellectual man as
opposed to the spiritual man. He showed the peculiar
perils to which intellectual pursuits expose a man. The
physician becomes a materialist — the lawyer an atheist
— because each confines his inquiries, the one to the
secondary laws of nature, the other to the outward
relations and qualities of actions. The poet, on the
contrary, creates gods for himself He worships the
creations of his own fancy. Irving abused in a common-
place way the sensual poets, and made insinuations
against the more intellectual, which might be applied
to Wordsworth and Coleridge. He observed on the
greater danger arising to intellectual persons from their
being less exposed to adversity ; their enjoyments of

* Written in 1851.

5. Rogers on Walter Scott.

255

intellect being more independent of fortune. The best
part of his discourse was a discrimination between the
three fatal errors of — 1st, conceiving that our actions are
bound by the laws of necessity ; 2nd, that we can reform
when we please ; and 3rd, that circumstances determine
our conduct. There was a great crowd to-day, and the
audience seemed gratified.

Jime lytk. — I had an opportunity of being useful to
Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth, who arrived to-day from
Holland. They relied on Lamb's procuring them a
bed, but he was out. I recommended them to Mrs.
, but they could not get in there. In the mean-
while I had mentioned their arrival to Talfourd, who
could accommodate them. I made tea for them, and
afterwards accompanied them to Talfourd's. I was
before engaged to Miss Sharpe, where we supped. The
Flaxmans were there, Samuel Rogers, and his elder
brother, who has the appearance of being a superior
man, which S. Sharpe reports him to be. An agree-
able evening. Rogers, who knows all the gossip of
literature, says that on the best authority he can affirm
that Walter Scott has received ;^ 100,000 honorarium
for his poems and other works, including the Scotch
novels! Walter Scott is Rogers' friend, but Rogers did
not oppose Flaxman's remark, that his works have in
no respect tended to improve the moral condition of
mankind. Wordsworth came back well pleased with
his tour in Holland. He has not, I believe, laid in
many poetical stores.

yu7ie 22nd. — An unsettled morning. An attempt to
hear Irving ; the doors crowded. I read at home till

Chap. ix.
1823.

Words-
worth.

Flaxman

and
S. /Wooers.

Scoit.

Irving.

256

A Sermon of Irving' s.

Chap. ix.
1823.

Irving.

Sermon on
Christian-
ity and
Paganism.

his service was over, when by appointment I met
Talfourd, with whom I walked to Clapton. Talfourd
was predetermined to be contemptuous and scornful
towards Irving, whom he heard in part, and no wonder
that he thought him a poor reasoner, a commonplace
declaimer, full of bad imagery. Pollock, with more
candour, declares him to be an extraordinary man, but
ascribes much of the effect he produces to his sonorous
voice and impressive manner.

June 29///. — Thomas Nash, of Whittlesford, calling,
induced me to go again to hear Mr. Irving. A crowd.
A rush into the meeting. I was obliged to stand all
the sermon. A very striking discourse ; an exposition
of the superiority of Christianity over Paganism. It
was well done. His picture of Stoicism was admirably
conceived. He represented it at the best as but the
manhood, not the womanhood, of virtue. The Stoic
armed himself against the evils of life. His system,
after ail, was but refined selfishness, and while he
protected himself, he did not devote himself to others ;
no kindness, no self-offering, &c. Speaking of the
common practice of infidels to hold up Socrates and
Cato as specimens of Pagan virtue, he remarked that
this was as uncandid as it would be to represent the
Royalists of the seventeenth century by Lord Falkland,
or the Republicans by Milton, or the courtiers of
Louis XIV. by F^nelon, the French philosophers
before the Revolution by D'Alembert, or the French
Republicans after by Carnot ! But neither in this
nor in any other of his sermons did he manifest great
powers of thought.

Godwin's Difficulties.

257

This week has brought us the certain news of the
counter-revolution in Portugal. But men still will not
be convinced that the counter-revolution in Spain must
inevitably follow.

jfune 2,0th. — I finished Goethe's fifth volume. Some
of the details of the retreat from Champagne, and still
more those of the siege of Mayence, are tedious, but
it is a delightful volume notwithstanding. It will be
looked back upon by a remote posterity as a most
interesting picture from the hand of a master of the
state of the public mind and feeling at the beginning
of the Revolution. The literary and psychological
parts of the book are invaluable. The tale of the
melancholy youth who sought Goethe's advice, which,
after a visit in disguise to the Harz, he refused to
give, because he was assured he could be of no use,
is fraught with interest. It was at that time Goethe
wrote the fine ode, " Harz Reise im Winter."*

July \2th. — I met Cargill by appointment, but on
calling at Mr. Irving's we received a card addressed to
callers, stating that he had shut himself up till three,
and wished not to be interrupted except on business of
importance. How excellent a thing were this but a
fashion !

I called on Murray, and signed a letter (which is to be
lithographed, with a fac-simile of handwriting) recom-
mending Godwin's case. It is written by Mackintosh.-f*

August 6th. — Went to the Haymarket. I have not

* Vol. II., p. 49.

t The object of this letter was to obtain a sum of money to help Godwin out
of his difficulties.

Chai'. IX.

1823.
Portugal.

Goethe's
Dichtuiig

und
Wahrheit.

Ift'tng

reserves

quiet for

studv.

Godwin.

VOL. II.

25'

Lamb's Religiojisness.

Chap. rx.

1823.

Lamb's
letter to
Southey.

A. W.
Schlegel.

lately been so much amused. In " Sweethearts and
Wives," by Kenny, Listen plays a sentimental lover
and novel-reader, A burlesque song is the perfection
of farce : —

"And when I cry and plead for marcy,
It does no good, but wicy warsy."*

[This year Mr. Robinson made a tour in Germany,
Switzerland, and the Tyrol.]

October 26th. — I met with Talfourd, and heard from
him much of the literary gossip of the last quarter.
Sutton Sharpe,-f* whom I called on, gave me a second edi-
tion, and lent me the last London Magazine, X contain-
ing Lamb's delightful letter to Southey.§ His remarks
on religion are full of deep feeling, and his eulogy on
Hazlitt and Leigh Hunt most generous. Lamb must
be aware that he would expose himself to obloquy by
such declarations. It seems that he and Hazlitt are no
longer on friendly terms. Nothing that Lamb has ever
written has impressed me more strongly with the sweet-
ness of his disposition and the strength of his affections.

November 10th. — An interesting day. I breakfasted
with Flaxman, by invitation, to meet Schlegel.
Had I as much admiration for Schlegel's personal

* This song was very popular at the time, under the name of ' ' Billy Lack-a-
day's Lament." The verse was :

" Miss Fanny, now she has undone me,
Like any queen looks down upon me ;
And when I kneels to ax for marcy.
It does no good, but wicy warsy."
f Nephew of S. Rogers. Afterwards Q.C., and eminent at the equity bar.
X See the Works of Charles Lamb, Vol. I., p. 322.

§ Southey had said in a review of " Elia's Essays " : — " It is a book which
wants only a sounder religious feeling, to be as delightful as it is original." He
did not intend to let the word sounder stand, but the passage was printed
without his seeing a proof of it.

A. W. Schickel.

259

character as I have for his literary powers, I should
have been gratified by his telling Flaxman that it was
I who first named him to Madame de Stael, and who
gave Madame de Stael her first ideas of German
literature. Schlegel is now devoting himself to Indian
learning, and hardly attends to anything else. Our
conversation during a short breakfast was chiefly on
Oriental subjects. He brought with him his niece, an
artist, who has been studying under Girard at Paris.
Flaxman had made an appointment with Rundle and
Bridge. And we rode there, principally to see
Flaxman's " Shield of Achilles," one of his greatest
designs. Mr. Bridge said it is a disgrace to the English
nobility that only four copies have been ordered, — by
the King, the Duke of York, the Duke of Northumber-
land, and Lord Lonsdale.* Schlegel seemed to admire
the work. It was Lord Mayor's Day, and we stayed to
see the procession.

November \Zth. — I spent the forenoon at home.
Finished Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal. I do not know
when I have felt more humble than in reading it, it is
so superior to my own. She saw so much more than I
did, though we were side by side during a great part of
the time. Her recollection and her observation were
alike employed with so much more effect than mine.
This book revived impressions nearly dormant.

November 2^th. — I walked out early. Went to the
King's Bench, where one of Carlile's men was brought
up for judgment for publishing blasphemy. A half-

• There is a fine cast of it in the Flaxman Gallery, University College,
London, presented by C. R. Cockerell, R.A.

S 2

Chap. ix.

1823.

Flaxman's
Shield of
Achilles.

ATrs.

Words-

Tvorth's

Continental

yournal.

Law of
Hasphfmy.

26o

W/ia^ is Blasphemy ?

Chap. ix.
1823.

Mrs.
Shelley.

Southey.

crazy Catholic, French, spoke in mitigation, — "My
lords," he said, " your lordships cannot punish this
man, now that blasphemy is justified by Act of
Parliament." This roused Lord Ellenborough. " That
cannot be, Mr, French." — " Why, my lord, the late Bill
repealing the penalties on denying the Trinity justifies
blasphemy!"* This was a very sore subject to Lord
Ellenborough, on account of the imputed heterodoxy of
the Bishop of Carlisle, his father. French could only
allege that this might have misled the defendant. He
was put down, after uttering many absurdities. On this
the defendant said : " I should like to know, my lords,
if I may not say Christ was not God without being
punished for it?" This brought up Best, and he said:
" In answer to the question so indecently put, I have
no hesitation in saying that, notwithstanding the Act
referred to, it is a crime punishable by law to say of the
Saviour of the world that he was" — and then there was
a pause — " other than he declared himself to be." He
was about to utter an absurdity, and luckily bethought
himself.

November 26th. — Took tea and supped at Godwin's,
The Lambs there, and some young men. We played
whist, &c. Mrs. Shelley there. She is unaltered, yet
I did not know her at first. She looks elegant and
sickly and young. One would not suppose she was the
author of " Frankenstein."

November 2'jth. — I called early on Southey at his
brother's ; he received me cordially ; we chatted during
a short walk. He wishes me to write an article on

* See ante, p. 135.

Flaxmaiis Belief in Spirits.

261

Germany for the Quarterly, which I am half-incHned
to do. Southey talks liberally and temperately on
Spanish affairs. He believes the King of Portugal
will give a constitution to the people, but he has no
hopes from the King of Spain. He has been furnished
with Sir Hew Dairy mple's papers, from which he has
collected two facts which he does not think it right at
present to make public : one, that the present King of
France* offered to fight in the Spanish army against
Buonaparte ; the other, that of thirty-five despatches
which Sir Hew sent to Lord Castlereagh, only three
were answered. The Spanish Ministry have been very
abstinent in not revealing this fact against Louis
lately ; it would give new bitterness to the national
feeling against him. No one now cares about Castle-
reagh's reputation.

Decetnber '^rd. — I dined in Castle Street, and then
took tea at Flaxman's. A serious conversation on
Jung's " Theorie der Geisterkunde " -f* (" Theory of the
Science of Spirits"). Flaxman is prepared to go a very
great way with Jung, for though he does not believe
in animal magnetism, and has a strong and very
unfavourable opinion of the art, and though he does
not believe in witchcraft, yet he does believe in ghosts,
and he related the following anecdotes as confirming
his belief : Mr. E ordered of Flaxman a monu-
ment for his wife, and directed that a dove should be
introduced. Flaxman supposed it was an armorial
crest, but on making an inquiry was informed that it
was not, and was told this anecdote as explanatory of

* Louis XVIII. t This work has been translated into English.

Chap. ix.
1823.

Flaxman.

Ghosts.

262

Ghost Stories,

Chap. ix.
1823.

the required ornament. When Mrs, E was on

her death-bed, her husband being in the room with her,
perceived that she was apparently conversing with
some one. On asking her what she was saying, Mrs.

E • rephed, " Do not you see Miss at the

window .-• " — " Miss is not here," said her hus-
band. " But she is," said Mrs. E . " She is at

the window, standing with a dove in her hand, and she
says she will come again to me on Wednesday." Now

this Miss , who was a particular friend of Mrs.

E , resided at a distance, and had then been dead

three months. Whether her death was then known to

Mrs. E , I cannot say. On the Wednesday Mrs.

E died. Flaxman also related that he had a

cousin, a Dr. Flaxman, a Dissenting minister, who died
many years ago. Flaxman, when a young man, was a
believer in ghosts, the Doctor an unbeliever. A warm
dispute on the subject having taken place, Mr. Flaxman
said to the Doctor : " I know you are a very candid, as
well as honest man, and I now put it to you whether,
though you are thus incredulous, you have never experi-
enced anything which tends to prove that appearances
of departed spirits are permitted by Divine Providence V
Being thus pressed, the Doctor confessed that the
following circumstance had taken place : — There came
to him once a very ignorant and low fellow, who lived
in his neighbourhood, to ask him what he thought
of an occurrence that had taken place the preceding
night. As he lay in bed, on a sudden a very heavy and
alarming noise had taken place in a room above him
where no one was, and which he could not account for.

Flaxinaii's Swedenborgianism.

263

He thought it must come from a cousin of his at sea,
who had promised to come to him whenever he died.
The Doctor scolded at the man and sent him off. Some
weeks afterwards the man came again, to tell him that
his cousin, he had learned, was drowned that very-
night.

Rem.* — Let me add here, what I may have said
before, that Charles Becher told me a story the very
counterpart of this, — that one night he was awakened
by a sound of his brother's voice crying out, that he
was drowning, and it afterwards appeared that his
brother was drowned that very night. It should be
said that there was a furious tempest at the time,
and Becher was on the English coast, and knew that
his brother was at sea on the coast of Holland.

I should add to what I have said of Flaxman, that
he was satisfied Jung had borrowed his theory from a
much greater man, Swedenborg.

December 22nd. — Dined with Southern in Castle
Street, and then went to Flaxman's. I read to them
parts of Jung's work, but Flaxman thought his system
very inferior to Swedenborg's. Flaxman declared his
conviction that Swedenborg has given the true inter-
pretation of the Old and New Testaments, and he
believes in him as an inspired teacher. He says, that
till he read his explanations of the Scriptures, they
were to him a painful mystery. He has lent me a
summary of the Swedenborgian doctrines.

December 31J/. — A year to me of great enjoyment,
but not of prosperity. My fees amounted to 445

* Written in iS^i.

Chap. ix.

1823.

Flaxman
on Sweden-
borg.

264

Yearly Retrospect.

Chap. ix. ' guineas. As to myself, I have become more and more
1823. desirous to be religious, but seem to be further off than
ever. Whenever I draw near, the negative side of the
magnet works, and I am pushed back by an invisible
power.

^--

Sir jfo/m Franklin.

265

CHAPTER X.
1824.

Jamiary \st. — I dined with Flaxman. An agreeable
afternoon. The FrankHns there.

Rem* — Captain, the now lost Sir John Franklin, had
married Ellen, the youngest daughter of Porden, the
architect. I appear not to have justly appreciated his
bodily nature. My journal says: " His appearance is not
that of a man fit for the privations and labours to which
his voyage of discovery exposed him. He is rather
under-set ; has a dark complexion and black eyes ; a
diffident air, with apparently an organic defect of vision ;
not a bold soldier-like mien. It seemed as if he had not
recovered from his hunger." Flaxman was very cheer-
ful. When he has parties, he seems to think it his duty
to give his friends talk as well as food, and of both his
entertainment is excellent. He tells a story well, but
rather diffusely. We looked over prints, and came home
late. It is a curious coincidence, that being engaged
to dine with Captain Franklin at Flaxman's, I had to
decline an invitation to meet Captain Parry at Mr.
Martineau's, Stamford Hill.

January \oth. — Walked out and called on Miss
Lamb. I looked over Lamb's library in part. He has

♦ Written in i8tI.

Chap. x.

1824.

Lamb.

266

LainUs Library. — Woohnan.

ClIAP. X.

1824.

Irving' s
Argument

of
yudgment

to Come.

John
Woobnan s
yournnl.

the finest collection of shabby books I ever saw ; such
a number of first-rate works in very bad condition is, I
think, nowhere to be found.

January 22nd. — Rode to London from Bury on the
" Telegraph." I was reading all the time it was light
Irving's "Argument of Judgment to Come," which I
have since finished. It is a book of great power, but on
the whole not calculated to resolve doubts. It is more
successful in painting strongly to believers the just
inferences from the received doctrine. It is written
rather to alarm than persuade ; and to some would
have the effect of deterring from belief.

How different this from John Woolman's Journal * I
have been reading at the same time. A perfect gem !
His is a schone Scele (beautiful soul). An illiterate
tailor, he writes in a style of the most exquisite purity
and grace. His moral qualities are transferred to his
writings. Had he not been so very humble he would
have written a still better book, for, fearing to indulge
in vanity, he conceals the events in which he was a
great actor. His religion is love. His whole existence
and all his passions were love ! If one could venture
to impute to his creed, and not to his personal character,
the delightful frame of mind which he exhibited, one
could not hesitate to be a convert. His Christianity is
most inviting, — it is fascinating.

* "John Woolman's Works, containing the Journal of his Life, Gospel
Labours, and Christian Experiences. To which are added his Writings."
Philadelphia, 1775. Dublin, 1794. London, 1824. 8vo. Charles Lamb
greatly admired this work, and brought it to H. C. R.'s notice. Woolman
was an American Quaker, one of those who first had misgivings about the
institution of slavery.

Irving.

267

February ^rd. — Made a long-deferred call on Mr.
Irving, with whom I was very much pleased. He
received me with flattering cordiality, and introduced
me to his wife, a plain but very agreeable woman,
Irving is learning German, which will be an occasion of
acquaintance between us, as I can be of use to him.
We had an agreeable chat ; his free, bold tone, the
recklessness with which he talks, both of men and things,
renders his company piquant. He spoke of the Scottish
character as to be found only in the peasantry, not in
the literati. Jeffrey and the Edinburgh critics do not
represent the people ; neither, I observed, do Hume,
Adam Smith, &c. I adverted to some of the criticisms
on his sermons. He seemed well acquainted with
them, but not much to regard them. He said that
Coleridge had given him a new idea of German meta-
physics, which he meant to study.

February \^th. — Having resolved to devote my Sun-
days in future to the perusal of writings of a religious
character, I this morning made choice of a volume
of Jeremy Taylor as a beginning. I pitched on his
" Marriage Ring," a splendid discourse, equally fine as
a composition and as evidencing deep thought. Yet
it has passages hardly readable at the present day. It
has naive expressions, which raise a smile. In the
midst of a long argument to prove that a husband
ought not to beat his wife^ he asks, " If he cannot
endure her talk, how can she endure his beating V

February \']th. — I had a short chat with Benecke, and
read him extracts from Jeremy Taylor. Glad to find
Benecke a thinking Christian. He is, with all his piety

Chap. x.

Irving s

cotiversa-
iion.

"Jereyny
Taylor.

268

Irving.

Chap. x.
1824.

On the

eternity of

future puti-

iskmcut.

Irving.

J> ving and
Robert
Hall.

and gravity, a believer in universal restoration, or, at
least, a disbeliever in eternal punishment. By the by, I
met the other day this remark : " It is a greater difficulty
how evil should ever come into the world, than that,
there being evil already here, it should be continued for
ever in the shape of punishment. If it is not incon-
sistent with the Divine attributes to suffer guilt, is it so
that he should ordain punishment ?" But I think I
have a short and yet satisfactory answer. Evil here,
and the evil of punishment, like all other may be means
to an end, which end may be the good of all. But
eternal punishment supposes evil to be an End-
February 20th. — Rode to Hammersmith, where,
accompanying Naylor, I dined with Mr. Slater. A
rather large party, rendered interesting by Irving. A

young clergyman, a Mr. P , talked of the crime of

giving opium to persons before death, so that they went
before their Maker stupefied. A silly sentiment, which
Irving had the forbearance not to expose, though his
manner sufficiently indicated to me what his feeling

was. There was also a Mr. C , an old citizen, a

parvenn, said by Slater to be an excellent and very
clever man ; but he quoted Dr. Chalmers to prove that
the smaller the violation of the law, the greater the
crime. Irving spoke as if he knew how Hall had
spoken of him, censured his violent speeches, and re-
ported his having said to a young theological student,
" Do you believe in Christ .'' Do you disbelieve in Dr.
Collier V and incidentally asked, " If such things (some
infirmity of I forget what divine) are overlooked, why
not my censoriousness .''" Speaking of Hall, Irving said

Flaxman on Sir Joshua.

269

Flaxman

about
Reynolds.

that he thought his character had greatly suffered by j Chap, x
the infusion of party spirit, which had disturbed his 1824.
Christian sentiments. Mrs. Irving was also very agree-
able; the cordiality of both husband and wife was gratify-
ing to me. I anticipate pleasant intercourse with them.

February 2'jth. — Had a long chat with Flaxman
about Sir Joshua Reynolds. In the decline of life he
expressed dissatisfaction with himself for not having
attended to religion. He was not always sufficiently
attentive to the feelings of others, and hurt Flaxman
by saying to him on his marriage, — " You are a ruined
man — you will make no further progress now."

February 29//^. — Read the second sermon on Advent.
It has checked my zeal for Jeremy Taylor. It is true,
as Anthony Robinson says, that one does not get on
with him ; or rather he does not get on with his subject.
A diffuse declaimer must, however, expose himself to
this reproach. In eloquence, as in dancing, the object
is not so much to get from the spot as to delight by
graceful postures and movements without going away.
And I find as I go on with Jeremy Taylor that he is
merely eloquent — he dances, but he does not journey
on. And in works of thought there should be a union
of qualities. One might parody Pope, and say :

" Or set on oratoric ground to prance,
Show all his paces, not a step advance."

March ^th. — Walked over to Lamb's. Meant a short
visit, but Monkhouse was there as well as Manning ; so
I took tea and stayed the whole evening, and played
whist. Besides, the talk was agreeable. On religion,
Monkhouse talked as I did not expect ; rather earnestly

Lamb's
religious-
ness.

270

Lamb's Piety. — Dr. Parr.

Chap. x.

1824.

Barker.

on the Atonement, as the essential doctrine of Chris-
tianity, but against the Trinity, which he thinks by a
mere mistake has been adopted from Oriental philo-
sophy, under a notion that it was necessary to the
Atonement. The dogmatism of theology has disgusted
Lamb, and it is that alone which he opposes ; he has
the organ of theosophy, and is by nature pious.

March 26th. — At the Spring Assizes at Thetford. I
dined with my nephew and niece, then living there. I
drank tea with Edmund Henry Barker.* His literary
anecdotes were entertaining. He wrote a work of some
size about Dr. Parr, whose pupil he was. He said
Parr was intolerant of young scoffers at religion ; and
to a Roman Catholic who had jeered at the story of
Balaam's ass and its cross, he said with more severity
than wit, — " It would be well, young man, if you had
less of the ass and more of the cross." To a lady, who,
seeing him impatient at her talk, said, — " You must ex-
cuse us ladies, whose privilege it is to talk nonsense." —
" Pray, madam, did you talk nonsense, it would be your
infirmity, not your privilege, unless, indeed, you deem
it the privilege of a duck to waddle because it cannot
walk." Barker related an anecdote of Parr in connection

with , which makes amends for many a harsh

word. He had lent i^200, as Barlcer thought,

but I think it was, in fact, i^SOO. " I shall never see
the money again," said the Doctor ; " but it is of no
consequence. It is for a good man, and a purpose."

April 19///. — I went after breakfast to Monkhouse.

* Edmund Henry Barker, O.T.N., which symbols being interpreted mean
i>/ Thetford, Norfolk.

Irving and Wordsworth.

271

Mr. Irving there ; he was very courteous. Wordsworth
also there. Listened with interest to a serious con-
versation between the poet and the pulpit orator, and
took a share in it. Wordsworth stated that the great
difficulty which had always pressed on his mind in
religion was the inability to reconcile the Divine
prescience with accountability in man. I stated mine to
be the incompatibility of the existence of evil, as final
and absolute, with the Divine attributes. Irving did
not attempt to solve either. He declared that he was
no metaphysician, and that he did not pretend to know
more of God than was revealed to him. He did not,
however, seem to take any offence at the difficulties
suggested. An interesting hour's conversation.

May \%th. — Called on Irving. He was very friendly,
as was also his wife, A little serious talk ; but Irving is
no metaphysician, nor do I suppose a deep thinker.
But he is liberal, and free from doctrinal superstition.
He received my free remarks on the terrors which he
seeks to inspire with great good-nature. I left him
"John Woolman," a book which exhibits a Christian
all love* Woolman was a missionary, and Irving is
writing on the missionaries. He called it a Godsend.

May 22nd. — After a call on Flaxman, dined with
Captain Franklin. A small but interesting party.
Several friends of Franklin's — travellers, or persons
interested in his journeys — all gentlemen and men of
sense. They talked of the Captain's travels with
vivacity, and he was in good spirits ; he appeared
quite the man for the perilous enterprise he has

* See ante, p. 266.

Chap. x.
1824.

Irving and
Words-
worth on
points of

theological
difficulty.

Irving.

Sir yphn
Franklin.

2/2

Lamb and Mrs. Barbanld.

Chap. x.

1824.

Sir Francis
and Lady
Palgrave.

Wilde.

Lamb and

Mrs.
Barbauld.

Coleridge.

undertaken, Mr. Palgrave (formerly Cohen), a well-
known antiquary, was there, and his wife, the daughter
of Dawson Turner. She has more beauty, elegance,
sense, and taste united than I have seen for a long
time.

Alay 2%th. — I went down to Westminster to hear
Serjeant Wilde in defence of the British Press for a
libel on Mr. Chetwynd. He spoke with great vehe-
mence and acuteness combined. His vehemence is not
united to elegance, so that he is not an orator ; but the
acuteness was not petty. He will soon be at the head
of the Common Pleas.

Rem.* — My prophecy was more than fulfilled. He is
now, as Lord Truro, the Lord High Chancellor; but, like
other recent Chancellors, it is not so that he will be best
known to posterity.

June \st. — I was induced to engage myself to dine
with C. Lamb. After dinner he and I took a walk to
Newington. We sat an hour with Mrs. Barbauld. She
was looking tolerably, but Lamb (contrary to his habit)
was disputatious with her, and not in his best way. He
reasons from feelings, and those often idiosyncrasies ;
she from abstractions and verbal definitions. Such
people can't agree.

June "i^rd. — At nine (much too early), I went to a
dance and rout at Mr. Green's, in Lincoln's Inn Fields,
where I stayed till three. A large party. Luckily for
me, Coleridge was there, and I was as acceptable to him
as a listener as he to me as a talker. Even in the
dancing-room, notwithstanding the noise of the music,

• Written in 1851.

IVi^/i Lamb to Coleridge.

273

he was able to declaim very amusingly on his favourite j Chap. x.

topics. This evening his theme was the growing hypo-
crisy of the age, and the determination of the higher
classes, even in science, to repress alt liberality of
speculation. Sir Humphry Davy has joined the party,
and they are now patronizing Granville Penn's absurd
attack on geology as being against revealed religion.
It seems that these ultra-religionists deem the confir-
mation of the great fact of a deluge from the pheno-
mena within the crust of the globe as inconsistent with
the Mosaic account. After so entire a destruction of
the earth, how could the dove find a growing olive }
Coleridge thinks German philosophy in a state of
rapid deterioration. He metaphysicized a la Schelling
while he abused him, saying the Atheist seeks only
for an infinite cause of all things; the spurious divine
is content with mere personality and personal will,
which is the death of all reason. The philosophic theo-
logian unites both. How this is to be done he did not
say.

June loth. — Dined at Lamb's, and then walked with
him to Highgate, self-invited. There we found a large
party. Mr. and Mrs. Green, the Aderses, Irving, Col-
lins, R.A., a Mr. Taylor,* a young man of talents in the
Colonial Office, Basil Montagu, and one or two others.
It was a rich evening. Coleridge talked his best, and it
appeared better because he and Irving supported the
same doctrines. His superiority was striking. The
subject dwelt on was the superiority of the internal
evidence of Christianity. In a style not clear or

* Henry Taylor, author of " Philip van Artevelde."
VOL. II. T

1824.

Coleridge

and
Irving.

274

A Talk at Coleridge s.

Chap. x.

1824.

Henry
Taylor.

intelligible to me, both Coleridge and Irving declaimed.
The advocatus diaboli for the evening was Mr. Taylor,
who, in a way very creditable to his manners as a
gentleman, but with little more than verbal cleverness,
ordinary logic, and the confidence of a young man who
has no suspicion of his own deficiencies, affirmed that
those evidences which the Christian thinks he finds in
his internal convictions, the Mahometan also thinks he
has; and he also asserted that Mahomet had im-
proved the condition of mankind. When the party were
breaking up, and the gentlemen were severally looking
for their hats, Lamb asked him whether he came in

a turban or a hat. There was also a Mr. C ,

who broke out at last by an opposition to Mr. Irving,
which made the good man so angry that he ex-
claimed, "Sir, I reject the whole bundle of your

opinions." Now it seemed to me that Mr. C. had

no opinions, only words, for his assertions seemed a
mere galimatias.

The least agreeable part of Coleridge's talk was
about German literature. He allowed Goethe no other
merit than that of exquisite taste.

In my talk with Irving alone, he spoke of a friend
who has translated " Wilhelm Meister," and said, " We
do not sympathize on religious matters ; but that is
nothing. Where I find that there is a sincere searching
after truth, I think I like a person the better for not
having found it." — " At least," I replied, " you have an
additional interest in him." Whether Irving said this,
suspecting me to be a doubter, I do not know. Pro-
bably he did.

Athaiccum Club opened.

275

On my walk with Lamb, he spoke with enthusiasm
of Manning,* declaring that he is the most wonderfid
man he ever knew, more extraordinary than Words-
worth or Coleridge. Yet he does nothing. He has
travelled even in China, and has been by land from
India through Thibet, yet, as far as is known, he has
written nothing. Lamb says his criticisms are of the
very first quality.

July 1st. — Made my first call at the Athenaeum, a
genteel establishment ; but I foresee that it will not
answer my purpose as a dining-place, and, if not, I gain
nothing by it as a lounge for papers, &c.

J^e7H.-f — It now constitutes one of the great elements
of my ordinary life, and my becoming a member was
an epoch in my life. Originally it was proposed that
all the members (1,000) of the Athenaeum should be
men of letters, and authors, artists, or men of science
— in a word, producers ; but it was found impossible to
form a club solely of such materials, and, had it been
possible, it would have been scarcely desirable. So the
qualification was extended to lovers of literature, and

* Thomas Manning, at one time a mathematical tutor at Cambridge. Some
of Lamb's most characteristic letters were addressed to him. He resided in
China for several years, pursuing his studies in Chinese; but he did not travel
in China until he went up to Pekin with Lord Amherst, Manning and Sir
George Staunton being interpreters to the English Embassy. Manning, before
he left England for the East (1803 — 4), published a worli on Algebra, in two
vok. He was among the detained after the rupture of the Peace of Amiens,
and released by Napoleon as a savant, and also because he had solved a
mathematical problem for " the First Consul." The only account of Thomas
Manning, who was, as C. Lamb says, a "wonderful man," literary, scientific,
honest, true, benevolent, is to be found in the British and foreign Quarterly
for 1844, article " Wm. Taylor of Norwich."

t Written in 1851.

T 2

Chap. x.
1824.

Lamb on
hi% friend
Manning.

AihencBum.

2/6

Lady Morgan.

Chap. x.
1824.

Lady
Morgan.

when Amyot proposed me to Heber, the great book-
collector, I was declared by Heber to be worthy, on
account of my being a German scholar. He at once
consented to propose me, but I needed a seconder
who knew me. Flaxman named me to Gurney, the
barrister, who consented to second me, and he writing
a letter to that effect, I was in fact seconded by
I know not whom. The entrance fee was £\o, and
the annual subscription £^. A house was building
for us in the square opposite the Park. We occu-
pied for a time the south-west corner of Regent
Street.

July 1st. — I dined with Storks, to meet Lady and Sir
Charles Morgan, and I was much amused by the visit.
Before I went, I was satisfied that I should recognize
in the lady one who had attracted my attention at
Pistrucci's, and my guess was a hit. Lady Morgan did
not displease me till I reflected on her conversation.
She seems good-natured as well as lively. She talked
like one conscious of her importance and superiority.
I quoted Kant's " There are two things which excite
my admiration — the moral law within me, and the starry
heavens above me." — " That is mere vague declamation,"
said Sir Charles ; " German sentiment and nothing else.
The starry heavens, philosophically considered, are no
more objects of admiration than a basin of water!"
Lady Morgan most offended me by her remarks about
Madame de Stael.

She talked of her own books. ^^^2,400 was asked for
a house. " That will cost me two books," she said.
She has seen Prati, who, she says, advises her to go to

Mrs. Opie.

277.

Germany ; " but I have no respect for German litera-
ture or philosophy." — "Your ladyship had better stay
at home. Does your ladyship know anything about
them.?" was my ungallant reply.

Rem* — I saw her once or twice after this, but I
never courted her company ; and I thought the giving
her a pension one of the grossest misapplications of the
small sum at the disposal of the Government. Words-
worth repeatedly declared his opinion that writers for
the people — novelists, poets, and dramatists — had no
claim, but that authors of dictionaries and books of
reference had.

July $th. — I dined in Castle Street, and took tea at
Lamb's. Mr. Irving and his friend, Mr. Carlyle, were
there. An agreeable evening enough ; but there is so
little sympathy between Lamb and Irving, that I do not
think they can or ought to be intimate.

ytily 6th. — Took tea with Lamb. Hessey gave an
account of De Quincey's description of his own bodily
sufferings. " He should have employed as his pub-
lishers," said Lamb, " Pain and Fuss " (Payne and
Foss).

July 14th. — At the Assizes at Norwich. Called on
Mrs. Opie, who had then become a Quakeress. She
received me very kindly, but as a Quakeress in dress and
diction. I found her very agreeable, and not materially
changed. Her dress had something coquettish in it,
and her becoming a Quakeress gave her a sort of eclat ;
yet she was not conscious, I dare say, of any unworthy
motive. She talked in her usual graceful and affec-

* Written in 1851.

Chap. x.
1824.

Lamb and
Irving.

Lamt^

Mrs. Opie.

2/8

Baldwin. — Irvinz.

Chap. x.
1824.

A pun.

Baldwin.

Irving.

tionate manner. She mentioned Lord Gifford — surely
a slip of the tongue.

Jidy lyth. — To-day heard a good pun from the

unfortunate A . The college beer was very bad

at St. John's. " The brewer ought to be drowned

in a butt of his ovy^n beer," said one fellow. A

replied, " He ought. He does, indeed, deserve a
watery bier."

Rem.* Jidy 2T^rd. — My first visit to Charles Baldwin,
at Camberwell, where he dwelt in a sort of park, where
once Dr. Lettsom lived. He has been ever since as
owner, first of Baldwin's Evening Mail, and afterwards
of the Standard, at the head of the Tory and Church
party press, and our acquaintance has, of course,
fluctuated, but has not altogether ceased.

August \2th. — All day in court. In one cause I held
a brief under Henry Cooper. The attorney, a stranger,
Garwood, of Wells, told me that he was informed by
his friend Evans (the son of my old friend, Joseph
Evans), that I was the H. C. R. mentioned in the
London Magazine as the friend of Elia. " I love Elia,"
said Mr. Garwood ; " and that was enough to make me
come to you! "

August \%th. — Called on Mr. Irving, and had an
agreeable chat with him. He is an honourable man in
his feelings. He was called away by a poor minister,
who, having built a chapel, says he must go to prison
unless Mr. Irving would preach a sermon for him. Mr.
Irving refused. He said he had no call or mission to
relieve men from difficulties into which they throw

* Written in 1851.

A nti-Bourbonism.

279

themselves. He says there is much cant and selfishness
which stalk abroad under the mask of the word gospel.
Irving praises exceedingly Luther's "Table-Talk," which
I have lent him. " It is the profoundest table-talk I
ever read," he says.

August 2-^rd. — I went to Brighton, and after spending
a few days with my friends there and at Lewes, I made
a tour almost entirely in Normandy.

Rem* — During my journey I was not inattentive to
the state of public opinion. It was decidedly against
the Bourbons, as far as I accidentally heard sentiments
expressed. Of course I except official zeal. At Caen,
I was amused at the Bureau de la Police by a plaster
cast of the King, like those sold by Italian boys for 6d.
Round the brow a withered leaf, to represent the laurel
" meed of mighty conquerors," with this inscription : —

Franyois fidele ! incline-toi ;
Traitre, fr^mis, — voici le Roi !

This contempt for the family was by no means con-
fined to the Republicans or Imperialists, though cer-
tainly much of it^was, and is, to be ascribed to the
national character, which would lead them to tolerate
sooner King Stork than King Log, if the devouring
sovereign conferred any kind of honour on those he
swallowed.

How low the condition of the French judges is, was
also made evident to me. The salary of the puisne
judges in the provinces — at Avranches, for instance — is
i,2CX) livres per annum, without fees or emoluments of
any kind : and from the conducteur of our diligence I

* Written in 1851.

Chap. x.
1824.

Tour in
Normandy.

Contempt

for the

Bourbons.

French
judges.

28o

French Judges, Bar, and Solicitors.

Chap. x.
1824.

Avouh and
. Avocats,

Walk to the

Monastery

of La

Trappe.

learned that he and his {eWovj-coftdncteurs had recently-
struck, because an attempt had been made to reduce
their salary from 4,000 to 3,000 livres, with permission
to take the usual fees ; and every traveller gives
liberally.

The Avocats, who are distinguishedrfrom the Azwiies,
receive small fees till they become of importance, and
then such men as Berryer will gain as much as several
hundred thousand francs per anmini. The Avones, tout
comme chez nous, earn more than the Avocats in criminal
cases, though the orders are by no means so entirely
separated. The Avones alone represent the client, who
is bound by their admissions' only ; and their bills are
taxed like those of our attorneys.

The most interesting occurrence on this journey was
my visit to the Monastery of La Trappe, to which I
walked on September 21st, from Mortagne. The spot
itself is simple, mean, and ugly — very unlike la grande
Chartreuse. It had been thoroughly destroyed early in
the Revolution, and, when restored, the order was in
great poverty. Its meanness took away all my enthu-
siasm, for my imagination was full of romantic images
of " shaggy woods and caves forlorn." It is situated in
a forest about three leagues from Mortagne. Indica-
tions of its peculiar sanctity were given by inscriptions
on barns and mean houses of husbandry, such as Domus
Dei, Beati qui habitant in ilia; and these beati dind f dices
were repeated so often, as to excite the suspicion that
the inscribers were endeavouring to convince themselves
of their own felicity. The people I saw this day were
mean and vulgar for the greater part, with no heroic

Visit to the Trappists.

281

quality of the monk. Some few had visages indicating
strength of the lowest animal nature, others had a
cunning look. One or two were dignified and in-
teresting.

On knocking at the gate, a dirty old man opened it,
and conducted me to a little room, where I read on the
wall, " Instructions to Visitors." The most significant
of these was, that if, among the monks, any one were
recognized, though he were a son, a parent, or a
brother, he was not to be spoken to. As every monk
had renounced all connection with the world, all his
relations with the world were destroyed.

Visitors were not to speak till spoken to, and then to
answer briefly. I was led into a gallery from which I
could see the monks at mass. As others were on their
knees, I followed their example on entering, but I felt
it to be a kind of hypocrisy, and did not repeat the act
when I had once risen. The only peculiarity in the
performance of the mass was the humility of the
monks, — sometimes on their knees and hands, and at
other times standing bent as a boy does at leapfrog,
when a little boy is to leap over him.

Being beckoned back into the waiting-room, two
monks having white garments entered and prostrated
themselves before me, covering their faces with their
hands. They remained in this posture long enough to
make me feel silly and uncomfortable. Not that I felt
like a Sultan or Grand Turk, as if I were the object of
worship, for I knew that this was an act of humility
which would be performed to a beggar. Only once
before was a man ever on his knees to me, and then I

Chap. x.
1824.

Trappists
at mass.

282

Trappist Food.

Chap. x.
1824.

Trappist
meal.

felt contempt and anger, and this man was a sort of
sovereign, or portion of a king — one of the Junta of
Gahcia, in Spain. Towards these men I felt pity, not
admiration. One had a stupid face, the other a most
benignant expression. This, the good genius of the
two, after leading me into the church, where unintel-
ligible ceremonies were gone through, read to me out of
a book what I did not understand. I was in a state of
confusion, and I did what I was bid as obediently as a
postulant. I was left alone, and then another monk
came. I was offered dinner, which I had previously
resolved to accept, thinking I might, at least for one
day, eat what was the ordinary food for life of men
who at one time had probably fared more sumptuously
than I had ever done ; but it was a trial, I own.

I would leave nothing on my plate, and was prudent
in not overloading it. The following was my fare and
that of two other guests, meanly dressed men. A little
table was covered with a filthy cloth, but I had a clean
napkin. First, a soupe maigre, very insipid ; a dish of
cabbage, boiled in what I should have thought butter,
but that is a prohibited luxury ; a dish of boiled rice
seasoned with a little §alt, but by no means savoury ;
and barley or oatmeal boiled, made somewhat thick with
milk — not disagreeable, considered as prison allowance.
While at dinner there came in the/r^/r cellier, or butler,
who said he had a favour to ask of me. It was that I
would write to him from England, and inform him by
what means the English Gloucester cheese has the
reddish hue given to it. The society have cows and
sell their cheese, which makes a large portion of their

Trappist Ignorance.

283

income. This I promised to do, intimating that the
colour without the flavour would be of little use. In
fact, I did send — what I hope was received — a packet of

,* which cost me about as many shillings as my

dinner cost sous. I was glad of this, for I saw no poor-
box in which I could deposit the cost of my meal.
The man who made this request had a ruddy com-
plexion, and by no means a mortified air. The monk
who brought in the wine also had a laughing eye, and
I saw him smile. All the others were dismal, forlorn,
and silent. He could speak even loudly, yet he had
the dress of a frere convcrs. Among the monks was
the famous Baron Geramb, of whom I heard a romantic
tale (worth telling, were this a part of a book). One of
the young men who dined with me was a seminarist of
Seez. His hands betrayed that he had been accustomed
to day labour. His conversation was that of the most
uneducated. He was so ignorant that, on my expressing
my astonishment that the Emperor of Austria could
allow his daughter to marry Buonaparte, who had a
wife already, he accounted for it by his being a Pro-
testant. This young man made the journey to the
monastery to relieve himself from his college studies at
Seez, as our Cambridge students go to the Lakes. At
the same time, his object was, I fear, purer than theirs.
He came for edification, to be strengthened in the pious
resolution which made him assume the holy office of a
priest, and avail himself of the charitable education
freely given him by his patron, the bishop. He was my
cicerone round the monastery, and felt like a patron

• Probably wliat Mr. Robinson sent was Amotto, or Annatto.

Chap. x.

1824.

The
ignorance
of sofne of
the monks.

284

Laws of the Trappist Order.

Chap. :

1824.

Their beds.

The Laws
of the
Order.

towards me. When I confessed that I was a Protes-
tant, he smiled with satisfaction, that he had had pene-
tration to guess as much, though he had never seen me
before.

At that time the church was in want of supplies
for the lower order of clergy ; but it is otherwise
now.

Under his guidance I could see through the windows
the monks at their dinner at a long table, with a sort
of porridge pot before them, while the readers in the
several apartments were reading to the diners. I saw
the dormitories. The monks sleep on boards covered
with a thin piece of cloth or serge. Each has his name
written on his den. The Pere prieiir does not sleep
better than the others.

My informant told me that the monks have only a
very short interval between prayer and toil and sleep ;
and this is not called recreation lest the recluse should
be led to forget that he is to have no enjoyment but
what arises from the contemplation of God.

If they sweat, they are not allowed to wipe their
sweat from their brows ; probably because they think
this would be resistance to the Divine command.

The monks labour but very little, from pure weakness.
Among the very few books in the strangers' room were
two volumes of the " Laws of the Order." I turned
them over. Among the laws was a list of all those
portions of the Old Testament which the monks were
prohibited reading. Certainly this was not a mutila-
tion of the sacred writings which the Protestants have
any right to make a matter of reproach. On my going

Mrs. Barbaiild.

285

away, the priest who had first spoken to me came
again, and asked me my object in coming, I said, "A
serious curiosity ;" that I wished to see their monastery ;
that I knew CathoHcs grossly misrepresented Pro-
testantism from ignorance, and I beheved Protestants
misrepresented Catholicism in like manner. He took
my hand at parting, and said, " Though you are not of
our religion, we should be glad to see you again. I hope
God in his grace will bring you to the true religion." I
answered, " I thank you for the wish. If your religion
be the true one, I wish to die a believer in it. We
think differently ; God will judge between us." Cer-
tainly this visit did not bring me nearer to Roman
Catholicism in inclination.

October %th. — Came home by Dover, Hastings, and
Brighton, and returned to my chambers on the^^evening
of the 15 th of October.

October i$th. — Mrs. Aders speaks highly — I think,
extravagantly — of Masquerier's picture of me, which
she wishes to copy. She says it is just such a picture
as she would wish to have of a friend — my very best
expression. It need be the best to be endurable.

November 4th. — Walked to Newington. Mrs. Bar-
bauld was going out, but she stayed a short time with
me. The old lady is much shrunk in appearance, and
is declining in strength. She is but the shade of her
former self, but a venerable shade. She is eighty-one
years of age, but she retains her cheerfulness, and
seems not afraid of death. She has a serene hope and
quiet faith — delightful qualities at all times, and in old
age peculiarly enviable.

Chap. x.

1824.

Port rati of
H. C. R.

Airs.
Barbauld,

286

Beware of Cheap Bargains.

Chap. x.

1824.

Proposed
dining club.

The Lambs.

Flaxtnan.

A book-
auction.

November i6th. — Called on Southern. He tells me
that the dining-club he proposes is to be in Essex
Street, and to consist of about fifty members, chiefly
partisans of Bentham. Hume, the M.P., is to be one,
and Bowring, Mill, and others will join. Southern pro-
poses Hogg as a member. I have intimated a strong
doubt whether I would belong to it.

November 21st. — Dined at the Bar mess in Hall, and
then went to Lamb's. AUsop was there, an amiable
man. I believe his acquaintance with Lamb originated
in his sending Coleridge a present of ;^ioo, in admira-
tion of his genius.

December 1st. — Called at Flaxman's. He has been
very ill, even dangerously, and is still unwell, but reco-
vering. These repeated attacks announce a breaking
constitution. One of the salt of the earth will be lost
whenever this great and good man leaves it.

December "i^rd. — A bad morning, for jl went to book-
auctions, and after losing my time at Sotheby's, I lost
my money at Evans's ! I bought the " Annual Register,"
complete, for £,\c) ^s. This is certainly a book of
reference, but how often shall I refer to it } Lamb
says, in all my life, nineteen times. Bought also the
" Essayists," Chalmers's edition, 45 vols., well-bound, for
6^ guineas, little more than the cost of binding ; but
this is a lady's collection. How often shall I want to
refer to it 1 Brydge's " Archaica," 2 vols., 4to, published
in nine one-guinea parts ;' but it is only a curious book,
to be read once and then laid by. " Beware of cheap
bargains," says Franklin — a useless admonition to me.

December loth. — Took tea at home. Mr. Carlyle

Sir Jolm Franklin.

287

with me. He presses me to write an account of my
recollections of Schiller for his book. I was amused
by looking over my MSS., autographs, &c. ; but it
has since given me pain to observe the weakness
and incorrectness of my memory. I find I recollect
nothing of Schiller worth recollection. At ten went
to Talfourd's, where were Haydon and his wife,
and Lamb and his sister ; a very pleasant chat with
them. Miss Mitford there ; pleasing looks, but no
words.

December 14M. — E. Littledale sent me a note
informing me that the Douai Bible and Rheims
Testament were to be sold to-day, by Saunders. I
attended, and bought them both very cheap — for Zs. 6d.
and 3i". 6d. ; but I also bought Law's " Jacob Bohme"
for ^i ys.) though 4 vols., 4to, still a foolish purchase,
for what have I to do with mystical devotion, who am
in vain striving to gain a taste for a more rational
religion "> Had I a depth of reflection and a strength
of sagacity which I am conscious of not possessing, I
might profit by such books.

December 2^th. — Christmas' Day. I dined by invita-
tion with Captain Franklin. Some agreeable people,
whom I expected to meet, were not there. And the
party would have been dull enough had not the Captain
himself proved a very excellent companion. His con-
versation that of a man of knowledge and capacity —
decision of character combined with great gentleness of
manners. He is eminently qualified for the arduous
labour he has undertaken of exploring by land the
Northern regions, in order to meet, if possible, the North

Chap. x.

1824.
Schiller.

At
Talfourd's.

Book-
auction.

Franklin^

Article in Quarterly.

Chap. x.
1824.

Southey.

H. C. R.'s

article in

the
Quarterly.

Pole navigators. Mrs. Franklin still remains very much
an invalid.

December 31^'/. — I went to a party at Captain Frank-
lin's. The Flaxmans were there, also Lieutenant Back,
the former companion of the Captain ; but the company
too numerous for interesting conversation.

I concluded the year at the Athenaeum, a spot where,
if my health and other accidents of felicity which I
have yet been blessed in, be preserved to me, I hope to
have much enjoyment.

Rem.* — When Southey was in town and breakfasted
with me, I mentioned to him that the Prussian Govern-
ment had volunteered very extensive reforms in its ad-
ministration, and acquired so great strength by it, in the
popular sentiment, that it was mainly to be ascribed to
this, that the successful resistance to French'oppression
occurred. Southey said, " I wish you would write an
article on this for the Quarterly.'' I rudely said, " I
should be ashamed to write for the Qtiarterly," and
Southey was evidently offended.

But the article was written, and ultimately appeared
in the Quarterly, though not precisely as written' by me.
It underwent no change, however, beyond the insertion
of a Greek passage, and one or two omissions. It
appeared in Vol. XXXI. No. 62, published in April, 1825.

During this year there was a small rise in the amount
of my fees, from 445 to 469^ guineas ; and I have to
record the sudden death of my fellow-circuiteer, Henry
Cooper.

Several incidents took place during the assizes at

• Written in 1851.

Defects in Criminal Law.

289

Bury, which deserve notice as illustrative of the bad
state of criminal law and practice in the country. One
man indicted pleaded guilty. Eagle said, " I am your
counsel ; say, * Not guilty.' " With difficulty, the Chief
Baron interposing, he did. The prosecutor being called,
refused to be sworn, and was sent to gaol. I tried to
do without him, and failed. The man was acquitted.
In another case I defended, and the evidence being very
slight, the Chief Baron stopped me and told the jury
to acquit ; but the jury said they had doubts, and, the
Chief Baron going on, all the prisoners were convicted,
though against some there was no evidence.

At Norwich, another case occurred exhibiting the
wretched state of the law, in which I was the in-
strument of necessitating a reform. I defended a knot
of burglars, against whom there was a complete case if
the evidence of an accomplice were receivable, but none
without. Now, that accomplice had been convicted of
felony, and sentenced by a Court of Quarter Sessions
to imprisonment alone, without the addition of a fine or
a whipping. And the statute restoring competence
requires an imprisonment and a fine or a whipping.
Gazelee refused to attend to this objection, and all were
convicted ; but I called on Edghill, the clerk of assize,
and told him that, unless the men were discharged, I
would memorialize the Secretary of State. And in
consequence the men were in a few days discharged ;
and Sir Robert Peel, at the opening of the session of
Parliament, brought in a short act amending the law.
Imprisonment or fine alone was rendered sufficient to
give a restoration of legal credit.

VOL. ir. u

Chap, x,

1824.

Anomalies
of the law

290

Dr. Shepherd, of Gateacre.

Chap. xi.

1825.

Lamb.

Anecdote of
Jew and
Christian.

CHAPTER XL
1825.

January 2nd. — Dined at Christie's.* A very agreeable
afternoon. General Gifford and the cousins Edgar and
Richard Taylor there. Had a fine walk to Lamb's.
Read to him his article on Liston — a pretended life,
without a word of truth, and not much wit in it. Its
humour lies in the imitation of the style of biographers.
It will be ill-received ; and, if taken seriously by Liston,
cannot be defended,

January ^.th. — Breakfasted with J, Wood.-f" Shepherd,]:
of Gateacre, the stranger whom we were to meet, Mr,
Field,§ of Warwick, and R, Taylor present. We had a
very pleasant morning. Shepherd an amusing and, I
have no doubt, also an excellent man. He related a
droll anecdote, which he had just heard from the
manager of Covent Garden Theatre. " We have to
do," said the manager, "with a strange set of people.
Yesterday there was a regular quarrel between a car-
penter and a scene-shifter about religion. One was a
Jew, whom the other, a Christian, abused as belonging

* A merchant, one of whose daughters married Edgar Taylor, already
referred to (see p. 199) ; and another. Captain, now Major Gifford.

f See p. 220.

X Rev. Wm. Shepherd, LL.D., a friend of Lord Brougham's, and author
of "The Life of Poggio Bracciolini."

§ Author of "The Life of Dr. Parr."

Quarrel between a Jew and a Christian.

291

to a bloodthirsty race. * Why am I bloodthirsty ? '
replied the Jew. 'When my forefathers conquered
Palestine they killed their enemies, the Philistines ; but
so do you English kill the French. We are no more
bloodthirsty than you.' — ' That is not what I hate your
people for ; but they killed my God, they did.' — ' Did
they ? Then you may kill mine, if you can catch him.' "

Shepherd, like the radicals in general, was very
abusive of Southey, whom it was my difficult office
to defend. Difficult, not because he is not a most
upright man, but because he and his opponents are
alike violent party men, who can make no allowance
for one another.

Jamiary \'jth. — There were but two appeals at the
Bury Epiphany Sessions. I succeeded in obtaining a
verdict in both. They were easy cases. On my saying
of one of them, " The case will be short," that insolent

fellow, R , said, " Do you speak in your professional

or your personal character } " I replied, " Sir, that is a
distinction I do not understand. I always speak as a
gentleman, and the truth." He blushed and apologized,
and said his question was only a joke.

February nth. — Went to Covent Garden Theatre.
A dull time of it, though I went in at half-price. The
pantomime a fatiguing exhibition, but the scenery
beautiful ; and this is one of the attractions of the
theatre for me. A panoramic view of the projected
improvement of the Thames, by the erection of a
terrace on arches along the northern shore, is a pleasing
anticipation of a splendid dream, which not even in this
projecting age can become a reality.

U 2

Chap. xi.
1825.

The

radicals on

Southey.

Bury

Sessions.

A retort.

Early
dreams of a
Thames'
Embank-
ment.

292

Julius Hare.

Chap. xi.

1825.

y utiles
Hare.

March 1 8M, — (Cambridge Spring Assizes.) Went to
a large party at Serjeant Frere's. Met there Julius
Hare, the youngest son of Mr. and Mrs. Hare, who
noticed me at Weimar in 1804. Julius was then a
school-boy, but he has some recollection of me ; and
I was anxious to see him, as he had spoken of me
to Peacock.* Hare is a passionate lover of German
literature and philosophy. He has the air of a man of
talent, and talks well. I was struck with his great
liberality. We had so many points of contact and
interest that I chatted with him exclusively till past
twelve, paying no attention to the music, or the
numerous and fashionable company.

Rein.-\ — Hare became afterwards remarkable as one
of the authors of " Guesses at Truth," with his now
deceased brother Augustus, and also as a writer of
eloquent devotional works — " The Mission of the
Comforter," &c. Yet it is his misfortune to satisfy no
party. The High Church party consider him a heretic,
on account of his intimacy with Bunsen and Arnold,
and especially his affectionate memoir of Sterling ; and
he is as much reprobated in the Record, the oracle
of the Low Church party. He is brother-in-law to
Frederick Maurice. He must be a man of wide charity
and comprehensive affections who makes almost idols
of Goethe, Coleridge, Wordsworth, Bunsen, Arnold,
Maurice, and W. S. Landor.

April i<)th. — After dining with the magistrates, I
gladly stole away to make a call on Hare. I had great
pleasure in looking over his library of German books —

* Afterwards Dean of Ely. f Written in 1851.

A Bar Dinner at the Athenceuni.

293

the best collection of modern German authors I have
ever seen in England. He spoke of Niebuhr's " Roman
History " as a masterpiece ; praised Neander's " St.
Bernard," " Emperor Julian," " St. Chr>'sostom," and
" Denkwurdigkeiten ;" was enthusiastic about Schleier-
macher. Hare represents Count De Maistre as the
superior of De Lamennais. I am to read his " Soirees
de St. Petersbourg." After two very delightful hours
with Hare, I returned to the " Red Lion," and sat up
late chatting with the juniors.

April 22nd. — -In the evening called on C. Lamb. He
and his sister in excellent spirits. He has obtained his
discharge from the India House, with the sacrifice of
rather more than a third of his income. He says he
would not be condemned to a seven years' return to his
office for a hundred thousand pounds. I never saw him
so calmly cheerful as now.

May ^th. — A house dinner at the Athenaeum set on
foot by me. It went off very well indeed. I took the
bottom of the table. We had Edward Littledale at the
top. The rest barristers, or coming to the Bar, viz : —
F. Pollock, Storks, Wightman, L. Adolphus, Wood, and
Amos, Dodd and his pupil, Lloyd — not an unpleasant
man of the party. The conversation not at all pro-
fessional or pedantic. We broke up early. I remained
at the place till late. After my nap, Sir Thomas
Lawrence came in, Dawson Turner, &c. The President
and Turner talked of the present Exhibition, Turner
asserting it to be superior to the Exhibitions in the days
of Sir Joshua. This Sir Thomas denied. He said two
or three paintings by Sir Joshua, with one by Northcote

Chap. xi.

1825.

C. Lamb.

Dinner at

the
AthencBum.

Royal

Academy

Exhibition.

294

J^.A. Exhibition,

Chap. xi.
182?.

Turner

and other
landscape
painters
compared.

or Opie, made an Exhibition of themselves. In number,
there is now a superiority of good works. Both praised
Danby's " Passage of the Red Sea," also a picture
by Mulready. Hilton and Leslie were named, and
Hayter's " Trial of Lord William Russell," The land-
scape by Turner, R.A., was highly extolled. Yet I have
heard that he is going out of fashion. Sir Thomas
mentioned that the Marquis of Stafford, on seeing
Danby's picture, rode immediately to the artist, and
bought it for 500 guineas. An hour afterwards Lord
Liverpool was desirous of purchasing it. Sir Thomas
spoke of Mr. Locke* as having the greatest genius of
all living painters. Not that he is the greatest painter.
I afterwards learned from Flaxman that Locke was the
son of a gentleman once very rich, and was now too far
advanced in years to have recourse to painting as a
profession. He had expressed to Flaxman the very
obvious sentiment, " How happy would it have been if,
in early life, I had been under the necessity of earning
my own livelihood!"

May yth. — Went to the Exhibition, with the ad-
vantage of having had my attention drawn to the best
pictures, which, for the most part, equalled my expecta-
tions. Turner, R,A., has a magnificent view of Dieppe,
If he will invent an atmosphere, and a play of colours
all his own, why will he not assume a romantic name }
No one could find fault with a Garden of Armida, or
even of Eden, so painted. But we know Dieppe, in the
north of France, and can't easily clothe it in such fairy
hues. I can understand why such artists as Constable

* In the Reminiscences Hope is the name.

Scott of Bromley.

295

and Collins are preferred. Constable has a good
landscape, but why does he spot and dot his canvas ?
The effect is good on a great scale. Collins's healthy
scenes are refreshing to look at.

May loth. — Dined at Green's, Lincoln's Inn Fields.
A large party. Phillips, R.A,, there, and his very
pleasing wife ; Ward and Collins, also of the Academy,
and a Mr. Stokes, a disputer, and so far an unpleasant
companion, but said to be able and scientific.

Rem* — Yesterday, at the Athenaeum, I charged
Stokes (now my very agreeable acquaintance) with
being this same man. He pleads guilty, thinking his
identity sufficiently lost after twenty-six years.

May 14/^. — ^William Pattisson, Thomas Clarkson, and
Joseph Beldam, called to the Bar. I dined with them
on the occasion,

Rem.-f — Not many years ago, it was remarked by
Beldam that both of his companions met with an early
and violent death — Pattisson drowned in a lake among
the Pyrenees,! Clarkson thrown from a gig, and killed
on the spot. But the three young men and their friends
rejoiced on the 14th of May, with that "blindness to the
future wisely given."

About this time my sister put herself under the care
of Scott of Bromley. She had known him when he
was in some business or handicraft at Royston. He
was an interloper, and regular practitioners would
not meet him in consultation. He owed all his reputa-
tion and success to his skill as a bandager. He was
especially successful in the cure of sore legs, and the

* Written in 1851. f Written in 1851. J See year 1832.

Chap. xi.

1825.

Stakes.

Scott of
Bromley.

296

Sir James Stephen.

Chap. xr.
182^.

Mathews.

Sir yatnes
Stephen.

heretic, Thomas Belsham, gave him the credit of pro-
longing his hfe several years. I once heard Coleridge
explain the rationale of the treatment. " By a very
close pressure, Scott forces the peccant humour into the
frame, where it is taken up by absorbents, and expelled
by medicine." My sister was benefited for a time, and
thought that an earlier application to him might have
saved her.

jftine nth. — W. Pattisson with me. I went in the
evening to see Mathews, and was amused. But mere
imitations of common life, exposing oddities, cant
phrases, and puerilities, pall on the sense very soon.
Where the original of an imitation is known, the
pleasure is enhanced. " Good night," pronounced as
Kemble, Munden, and others might be supposed to
pronounce it, amused me very much.

June \2th. — A very interesting day. I breakfasted
early and walked to Hampstead ; then proceeded to
Hendon. The exceeding beauty of the morning and.
the country put me into excellent spirits. I found my
friend James Stephen in a most delightfully situated
small house. Two fine children, and an amiable and
sensible wife. I do not know a happier man. He is a
sort of additional Under Secretary of State. He had
previously resolved to leave the Bar, being dissatisfied
with the practice in the Court of Chancery. He has
strict principles, but liberal feelings in religion. Though
a stanch Churchman, he is willing to sacrifice the eccle-
siastical Establishment of Ireland.

June i6ih. — Finding myself released at an early hour
from my professional duties, I took a cold dinner at the

A Talk %vith Coleridge.

297

Athenaeum, and then went to Basil Montagu. Mr.
Edward Irving was there. He and his brother-in-law,
Mr. Martin, and myself placed ourselves in a chariot.
Basil Montagu took a seat on the outside, and we
drove to Highgate, where we took tea at Mr. Oilman's.
I think I never heard Coleridge so very eloquent as
to-day, and yet it was painful to find myself unable to
recall any part of what had so delighted me, — i.e. any-
thing which seemed worthy to be noted down. So that
I could not but suspect some illusion arising out of the
impressive tone and the mystical language of the orator.
He talked on for several hours without intermission.
His subject the ever-recurring one of religion, but so
blended with mythology, metaphysics, and psychology,
that it required great, attention sometimes to find the
religious element. I observed that, when Coleridge
quoted Scripture or used well-known religious phrases,
Irving was constant in his exclamations of delight, but
that he was silent at other times. Dr. Prati* came
in, and Coleridge treated him with marked attention.
Indeed Prati talked better than I ever heard him. One
sentence (Coleridge having appealed to him) deserves
repetition : " I think the old Pantheism of Spinoza far
better than modern Deism, which is but the hypocrisy
of materialism." In which there is an actual sense, and
I believe truth. Coleridge referred to an Italian, Vico,
who is said to have anticipated Wolf's theory concern-
ing Homer, which Coleridge says was his own at Col-
lege. Vico wrote " Principi di una Scienza nuova," viz.
Comparative History. Goethe, in his Life, notices him as

* An Italian : a lawyer by profession.

Chap. xi.

1825.

Coleridge.

Dr. Praii.

298

Lamb, the " Siiperanmiated Ma?i"

Chap. xi.
1825.

Lamb, the
' ' Super-
annuated
Man."

an original thinker and a great man. He wrote on the
origin of Rome. Coleridge drew a parallel between the
relation of the West India planters to the negroes, and
the patricians of Rome to the plebeians ; but when I
inquired concerning the origin of the inequality, he
evaded giving me an answer. He very eloquently
expatiated on history, and on the influence of Chris-
tianity on society. His doctrines assume an orthodox
air, but to me they are unintelligible.

H. C. R. TO Miss Wordsworth.

y^ime, 1825.
I have not seen the Lambs so often as I used to do,
owing to a variety of circumstances. Nor can I give
you the report you so naturally looked for of his con-
duct at so great a change in his life The

expression of his delight has been child-like (in the
good sense of that word). You have read the " Super-
annuated Man." I do not doubt, I do not fear, that he
will be unable to sustain the " weight of chance desires."
Could he — but I fear he cannot — occupy himself in
some great work requiring continued and persevering
attention and labour, the benefit would be equally his
and the world's. Mary Lamb has remained so long
well, that one might almost advise, or rather permit,
a journey to them. But Lamb has no desire to travel.
If he had, few things would give me so much pleasure
as to accompany him. I should be proud of taking
care of him. But he has a passion for solitude, he says,
and hitherto he finds that his retirement from business
has not brought leisure.

William Hotte.

299

Rem* — I bought my first spectacles, July 8th, at
Gilbert's. I became first sensible of the want at the
French Theatre, where I could not read the bills. Flax-
man advised my getting spectacles immediately ; it
being a mistake, he said, to think that the eyes should
be exercised when it causes them inconvenience. I had
no occasion to change the glass for some time, and have
changed but twice in twenty-six years ; nor, happily,
in my seventy-seventh year do I remark any increased
symptom of decaying sight.

October 1 1 th. — In the latter part of the day went to
Lamb's. He seemed to me in better health and spirits.
But Hone the parodist was with him, and society
relieves Lamb. The conversation of Hone, or rather
his manners, pleased me. He is a modest, unassuming
man.

October 29///. — Tea with Anthony Robinson. A long
and serious talk with him on religion, and on that in-
explicable riddle, the origin of evil. He remarked that
the amount of pain here justifies the idea of pain here-
after, and so the popular notion of punishment is
authorized. But I objected that evil or pain here may
be considered a mean towards an end. So may pain,
inflicted as a punishment. But endless punishment
would be itself an end in a state where no ulterior object
could be conceived. Anthony Robinson declared this
to be a better answer to the doctrine of eternal punish-
ment than any given by Price or Priestley. Leibnitz,
who in terms asserts "eternal punishment," explains
away the idea by affirming merely that the conse-

• Written in 1851.

Chap. 'XI.

?. 1825.

Eyes begin
to/ail.

Hone.

Endless
punish-
ment.

300

Flaxman's Dislike of Southey.

Chap. xi.

1825.

7 he new

Regent's

Park.

Flaxtnan's
dislike of
Southey.

St. Bride's
Church.

Irvin^s
preaching.

quences of sin must be eternal, and that a lower degree
of bliss is an eternal punishment.

November \st. — Dined at Wardour Street, and then
went to Flaxman. The family being at dinner, I strolled
in the Regent's Park. The splendour and magnitude of
these improvements are interesting subjects of observa-
tion and speculation. At Flaxman's a pleasing visit.
He was characteristic. I find that his dislike to Southey
originates in the latter's account of Swedenborg and the
doctrines of the sect in his " Espriella." Flaxman
cannot forgive derision on such a subject. To my sur-
prise, he expressed disapprobation of the opening of St,
Bride's steeple.* " It is an ugly thing, and better hid."
On inquiry, I found that his objection is not confined to
the lower part of the tower, in which I should have
concurred, for I think the upper part or spire alone
beautiful ; but he objects to the spire itself, and indeed
to almost every spire attached to Grecian buildings.
He makes an exception in favour of Bow Church.

November 20th, Sunday. — Hundleby and William
Pattisson took breakfast with me, and then we went to
Irving's church. He kept us nearly three hours. But
after a very dull exposition of a very obscure chapter in
Hebrews, we had a very powerful discourse — the com-
mencement of a series on Justification by Faith. That
which he calls religion and the gospel is a something
I have a repugnance to. I must, indeed, be new-born
before I can accept it. But his eloquence is captivating.
He speaks like a man profoundly convinced of the

* The Fleet Street houses to the north had, till lately, formed a continuous
range in front of the church.

Blake and Linnell.

301

truth of what he teaches. He has no cant, hypocrisy,
or ilhberahty. His manner is improved. He is less
theatrical than he was a year ago,

November 27///. — A half hour after midnight died
Mr. Collier. The last two days he was conscious of his
approaching end. On his mentioning a subject which I
thought had better be postponed, I said, " We will leave
that till to-morrow." — " To-morrow } " he exclaimed,
"to-morrow."* That may be ages !" These words were
prophetic, and the last I heard from him. He was one
of the oldest of my friends.

December loth. — Dined with Aders. A very remark-
able and interesting evening. The party at dinner
Blake the painter, and Linnell, also a painter. In the
evening, Miss Denman and Miss Flaxman came.

Shall I call Blake artist, genius, mystic, or madman }
Probably he is all. I will put down without method
what I can recollect of the conversation of this remark-
able man.* He has a most interesting appearance.
He is now old (sixty-eight), pale, with a Socratic
countenance, and an expression of great sweetness,
though with something of languor about it except
when animated, and then he has about him an air
of inspiration. The conversation turned on art, poetry,
and religion. He brought with him an engraving of
his " Canterbury Pilgrims." One of the figures in

* The substance of H. C. R.'s intercourse with Blake is given in a paper of
Recollections, which may be found in Gilchrist's "Life of William Blake,"
vide pp. 337-344, 348-350, &c. In the present work, H. C. R.'s interviews
with that remarkable man will.be given, for the most part, from the Diary
written just after they took place In the National Portrait Gallery may be
seen a fine portrait of Blake, by Thomas PhilUps, R.A. A beautiful minia-
ture of him has also been painted by Mr. Linnell, which he still possesses.

Chap. xi.

1825.

Death of
Mr. Collier.

Blake.

?02

Blake s Religious Opiniotts.

Chap. xi.
1825.

Blake s
religious
opinions.

it is like a figure in a picture belonging to Mr, Aders.
" They say I stole it from this picture," said Blake,
" but I did it twenty years before I knew of this pic-
ture. However, in my youth, I was always studying
paintings of this kind. No wonder there is a resem-
blance." In this he seemed to explain humanly what
he had done. But at another time he spoke of his
paintings as being what he had seen in his visions.
And when he said " my visions," it was in the ordinary
unemphatic tone in which we speak of every-day
matters. In the same tone he said repeatedly, " the
Spirit told me." I took occasion to say, " You express
yourself as Socrates used to do. What resemblance do
you suppose there is between your spirit and his .'' "
" The same as between our countenances." He paused
and added, " I was Socrates," — and then, as if cor-
recting himself, said, " a sort of brother. I must have
had conversations with him. So I had with Jesus
Christ. I have an obscure recollection of having been
with both of them." I suggested, on philosophical
grounds, the impossibility of supposing an immortal
being created, an eternity a parte post without an
eternity a parte ante. His eye brightened at this, and
he fully concurred with me. " To be sure, it is im-
possible. We are all co-existent with God, members of
the Divine body. We are all partakers of the Divine
nature." In this, by-the-by, Blake has but adopted an
ancient Greek idea. As connected with this idea, I will
mention here, though it formed part of our talk as we
were walking homeward, that on my asking in what
light he viewed the great question concerning the deity

Blake on Good and Evil.

303

of Jesus Christ, he said, " He is the only God. But
then," he added, " and so am I, and so are you." He
had just before (and that occasioned my question) been
speaking of the errors of Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ
should not have allowed himself to be crucified, and
should not have attacked the Government. On my
inquiring how this view could be reconciled with the
sanctity and Divine qualities of Jesus, Blake said,
" He was not then become the Father." Connecting,
as well as one can, these fragmentary sentiments, it
would be hard to fix Blake's station between Christi-
anity, Platonism, and Spinozism. Yet he professes to
be very hostile to Plato, and reproaches Wordsworth
with being not a Christian, but a Platonist.

It is one of the subtle remarks of Hume, on certain
religious speculations, that the tendency of them is to
make men indifferent to whatever takes place, by
destroying all ideas of good and evil. I took occasion
to apply this remark to something Blake had said. " If
so," I said, " there is no use in discipline or education —
no difference between good and evil." He hastily broke
in upon me : " There is no use in education. I hold it
to be wrong. It is the great sin. It is eating of the
tree of the knowledge of good and evil. This was the
fault of Plato. He knew of nothing but the virtues
and vices, and good and evil. There is nothing in all
that. Everything is good in God's eyes." On my
putting the obvious question, " Is there nothing abso-
lutely evil in what men do .''" — " I am no judge of that.
Perhaps not in God's eyes." He sometimes spoke as if
he denied altogether the existence of evil, and as if we

Chap. xi.
1825.

Blake on
the evil of
education.

Nothing

evil in

God's eyes.

304

Blake on Art — on Swedenborg.

Chap. xi.
1825.

Nothing

pure in

God's sight.

Art an

inspiration

of the

Spirit.

Fame ati
evil.

Blake on
Sweden-
borg.

had nothing to do with right and wrong ; it being
sufficient to consider all things as alike the work of
God. Yet at other times he spoke of there being error
in heaven. I asked about the moral character of Dante,
in writing his "Vision" — was he pure.-' "Pure," said
Blake, "do you think there is any purity in God's eyes .''
The angels in heaven are no more so than we. * He
chargeth his angels with folly.'" He afterwards repre-
sented the Supreme Being as liable to error. " Did he
not repent him that he had made Nineveh ?" It is easier
to repeat the personal remarks of Blake than these
metaphysical speculations, so nearly allied to the most
opposite systems of philosophy. Of himself, he said he
acted by command. The Spirit said to him, " Blake,
be an artist, and nothing else." In this there is felicity.
His eye glistened while he spoke of the joy of devoting
himself solely to divine art. Art is inspiration. When
Michael Angelo, or Raphael, or Mr. Flaxman, does any
of his fine things, he does them in the Spirit. Blake
said, " I should be sorry if I had any earthly fame, for
whatever natural glory a man has is so much taken
from his spiritual glory. I wish to do nothing for profit.
I wish to live for art. I want nothing whatever. I am
quite happy."

Among the unintelligible things he expressed was his
distinction between the natural world and the spiritual.
The natural world must be consumed. Incidentally,
Swedenborg was referred to. Blake said, " He was a
Divine teacher. He has done much good, and will do
much. He has corrected many errors of Popery, and
also of Luther and Calvin. Yet Swedenborg was wrong

Blake oil Wordszvorth.

30-

in endeavouring to explain to the rational faculty what
the reason cannot comprehend. He should have left
that." Blake, as I have said, thinks Wordsworth no
Christian, but a Platonist. He asked me whether
Wordsworth believed in the Scriptures. On my reply-
ing in the affirmative, he said he had been much pained
by reading the Introduction to "The Excursion." It
brought on a fit of illness. The passage was produced
and read : —

"Jehovah — with his thunder and the choir
Of shouting angels, and the empyreal thrones —
I pass them unalarmed."

This "pass them unalarmed" greatly offended Blake.
Does Mr. Wordsworth think his mind can surpass
Jehovah } I tried to explain this passage in a sense in
harmony with Blake's own theories, but failed, and
Wordsworth was finally set down as a Pagan ; but still
with high praise, as the greatest poet of the age.

Jacob Boehme was spoken of as a divinely inspired
man. Blake praised, too, the figures in Law's translation
as being very beautiful. Michael Angelo could not
have done better.

Though he spoke of his happiness, he also alluded to
past sufferings, and to suffering as necessary. " There
is suffering in heaven, for where there is the capacity of
enjoyment, there is also the capacity of pain."

I have been interrupted by a call from Talfourd, and
cannot now recollect any further remarks. But as Blake
has invited me to go and see him, I shall possibly have
an opportunity of throwing connection, if not system,
into what I have written, and making additions. I feel

VOL. II. X

Chap. xi.

182s.

Thought
Words-
tvorih a
Pagan.

Blake on

Jacob
Boehme.

On
suffering.

3o6

Blake — Aphorisms.

Chap. xi.
1825.

Aphorisms
from Blake.

Blake s
?nan7iers.

great admiration and respect for him. He is certainly
a most amiable man — a good creature. And of his
poetical and pictorial genius there is no doubt, I believe,
in the minds of judges. Wordsworth and Lamb like
his poems, and the Aderses his paintings.

A few detached thoughts occur to me. " Bacon,
Locke, and Newton are the three great teachers of
Atheism, or of Satan's doctrine."

" Everything is Atheism which assumes the reality of
the natural and unspiritual world."

" Irving is a highly gifted man. He is a seftt man.
But they who are sent go further sometimes than they
ought."

" Dante saw devils where I see none. I see good
only. I saw nothing but good in Calvin's house.
Better than in Luther's — in the latter were harlots."

" Parts of Swedenborg's scheme are dangerous. His
sexual religion is so."

" I do not believe the world is round. I believe it is
quite flat."

" I have conversed with the spiritual Sun. I saw him
on Primrose Hill. He said, ' Do you take me for the
Greek Apollo .■" ' — * No,' I said ; ' that ' (pointing to the
sky) ' is the Greek Apollo. He is Satan.' "

" I know what is true by internal conviction. A doc-
trine is told me. My heart says, ' It must be true.' " I
corroborated this by remarking on the impossibility
of the unlearned man judging of what are called the
external evidences of religion, in which he heartily con-
curred.

I regret that I have been unable to do more than

Blake's Manners and Dwelling.

307

put down these few things. The tone and manner are
incommunicable. There are a natural sweetness and
gentility about Blake which are delightful. His friend
Linnell seems a great admirer.*

Perhaps the best thing he said was his comparison
of moral with natural evil. " Who shall say that God
thinks evil .-• That is a wise tale of the Mahometans,
of the angel of the Lord that murdered the infant
(alluding to the ' Hermit ' of Parnell, I suppose). Is
not every infant that dies of disease murdered by an
angel .?"

December lyth. — A short call this morning on Blake.
He dwells in Fountain Court, in the Strand. I found
him in a small room, which seems to be both a working-
room and a bedroom. Nothing could exceed the
squalid air both of the apartment and his dress ; yet
there is diffused over him an air of natural gentility.
His wife has a good expression of countenance.

I found him at work on Dante. The book (Gary)
and his sketches before him. He showed me his
designs, of which I have nothing to say but that they
evince a power I should not have anticipated, of group-
ing and of throwing grace and interest over conceptions
monstrous and horrible.-f-

Our conversation began about Dante. " He was an
Atheist — a mere politician, busied about this world, as
Milton was, till in his old age he returned to God,
whom he had had in his childhood."

* Linnell aided Blake during his life, and after his death took care of his
widow. Linnell possesses a grand collection of Blake's works,
t Linnell possesses the whole series of the Dante drawings.

X 2

Chap. xi.

1825.

Blake's
house.

Blake's

opinion of

Dante.

3o8

B lake — Man icheism.

Chap. xi.

Blake s
doctrine of
Atheism,

And of good
avd evil.

Education

sliould only

be of the

feelings.

On the

Manichean

doctrine.

I tried to ascertain from Blake whether this charge of
Atheism was not to be understood in a different sense
from that which would be given to it according to the
popular use of the word. But he would not admit
this. Yet when he in like manner charged Locke with
Atheism, and I remarked that Locke wrote on the
evidences of Christianity and lived a virtuous life,
Blake had nothing to say in reply. Nor did he make
the charge of wilful deception. I admitted that Locke's
doctrine leads to Atheism, and with this view Blake
seemed to be satisfied.

From this subject we passed over to that of good and
evil, on which he repeated his former assertions more
decidedly. He allowed, indeed, that there are errors,
mistakes, &c. ; and if these be evil, then there is evil.
But these are only negations. Nor would he admit
that any education should be attempted, except that of
the cultivation of the imagination and fine arts. " What
are called the vices in the natural world are the highest
sublimities in the spiritual world." When I asked
whether, if he had been a father, he would not have
grieved if his child had become vicious or a great crimi-
nal, he answered, " When I am endeavouring to think
rightly, I must not regard my own any more than other
people's weaknesses." And when I again remarked
that this doctrine puts an end to all exertion, or even
wish to change anything, he made no reply.

We spoke of the Devil, and I observed that, when a
child, I thought the Manichean doctrine, or that of two
principles, a rational one. He assented to this, and in
confirmation asserted that he did not believe in the

Blake — Jiis Faculty of Vision.

309

omnipotence of God. The language of the Bible on
that subject is only poetical or allegorical. Yet soon
afterwards he denied that the natural world is anything.
" It is all nothing ; and Satan's empire is the empire of
nothing."

He reverted soon to his favourite expression, "My
visions." " I saw Milton, and he told me to beware of
being misled by his ' Paradise Lost' In particular, he
wished me to show the falsehood of the doctrine, that
carnal pleasures arose from the Fall. The Fall could not
produce any pleasure." As he spoke of Milton's appear-
ing to him, I asked whether he resembled the prints of
him. He answered, " All." — " What age did he appear
to be.''" — "Various ages — sometimes a very old man."
He spoke of Milton as being at one time a sort of clas-
sical Atheist, and of Dante as being now with God. His
faculty of vision, he says, he has had from early infancy.
He thinks all men partake of it, but it is lost for want
of being cultivated. He eagerly assented to a remark I
made, that all men have all faculties in a greater or less
degree.

I am to continue my visits, and to read to him
Wordsworth, of whom he seems to entertain a high
idea.

Dined with Flanagan at Richard's Coffee-house. A
pleasant party. Frith, Reader, Brent, Dr. Badham,
Hawkins, Long, Martin Shee, Storks, and myself I
was placed next to Shee, R.A. He gratified me much
by his warm praise of Flaxman, speaking of him as by
far the greatest artist of his country, though his worth
is disgracefully overlooked. ;Shee would not hear of a

Chap. xt.

1825.

Satan's is
the empire
over matter.

On the Fail
of Mail.

Blake's
faculty of

Sir M. A.

Shee,
P.R.A., OH
Flaxman.

310

Flaxvian. — Blake.

Chap. xi.
1825.

Flaxman

phrenology.

Blake on
Words-
worth,

And on

Ufaniche-

hm.

Mrs.

Barhauld's

Legacy.

comparison between Flaxman and his more successful
rival, Chantrey. Dr. Badham was on my other side, and
talked very agreeably. He has travelled in Greece.

December 22ud. — A short call on Flaxman. I find
that, though he is a decided spiritualist, he is a believer
in phrenology. In Swedenborg, there is a doctrine
which reconciles him to Gall's seemingly materialistic
doctrine, viz. the mind forms the body ; and Flaxman
believes that the form of the skull is modified in after
life by the intellectual and moral character.

December 24th. — A call on Blake — my third inter-
view. I read to him Wordsworth's incomparable ode,*
which he heartily enjoyed. But he repeated, " I fear
Wordsworth loves nature, and nature is the work of the
Devil. The Devil is in us as far as we are nature." On
my inquiring whether the Devil, as having, less power,
would not be destroyed by God, he denied that God
has any power, and asserted that the Devil is eternally
created — not by God, but by God's permission. And
when I objected that permission implies power to pre-
vent, he did not seem to understand me. The parts of
Wordsworth's ode which Blake most enjoyed were the
most obscure, — at all events, those which I least like
and comprehend.

December 2'jth. — (At Royston). This morning I read
to the young folks Mrs. Barbauld's " Legacy." This
delightful book has in it some of the sweetest things
I ever read. " The King in his Castle," and " True
Magicians," are perfect allegories, in Mrs. Barbauld's

* " Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood."
Vol. v., p. 103; edition 1857.

Annual Retrospect.

311

best style. Some didactic pieces are also delightful.
We had a family dinner at Mr. Wedd Nash's. Mr.
Nash, Senr., was of the party. He, however, took no
share in the conversation. His mind is, in fact, gone ;
but — and this is singular — his heart remains. He is as
amiable, as conscientious, as pure, as delicate in his
moral feelings as ever. His health continues good, but
a fit of the gout prevented my seeing much of him.
And I believe I shall never see him again. He is a
model of goodness, but, as the bigots think, a child of
wrath, being a heretic.

Rem* — This year my fees rose from 46gj4 guineas
to ^TTYii — a very large increase in amount, but very
far from flattering. The increase arose chiefly from
the death of Henry Cooper,-}- in the summer. If a
stroke of wit occurred to him, he would blurt it out,
even though it told against himself. And sometimes I
succeeded in making this apparent. Still, however,
with all his faults, and though he was as little of a
lawyer almost as myself, his death caused a vacancy
which I was unable to fill.

I wrote to Miss Wordsworth in August : " In Norfolk,
I started for the first time a leader — holding briefs in
sixteen out of seventeen causes, in nine of which I was
either senior or alone."

At the Aylesbury Assizes, there was a trial which
exhibited the aristocratic character of our nation. An
Eton boy was indicted for murder, he having killed
another boy in a boxing match. It was not a case for
a conviction — perhaps not for manslaughter, though,

* Written in 1851. t See'^o\. I., p. 419.

Chap. xi.

1825.
Mr. Nash.

Profession-
al income.

H. C. R. a

leader on

the Norfolk

Circuit.

^12

Aji Arbitration.

Chap. xi. j had the fight taken place between two stable-boys, that,

1825.

Whist club.

Athenceum.

Anthu?iy

Sterry.

probably, would have been the verdict. But what dis-
gusted me was that Lord Nugent stood in the dock by
the side of the boy, and I did not scruple to tell him so.
His desire was to mitigate the boy's pain. The family
of the killed boy took no part in the prosecution, and the
judge dismissed the offender without a word of reproof

During this year I became a member of a whist club,
which, though small in number, made me more a man of
expense. And my being introduced to the Athenseum
was really an epoch in my life. That club has never
ceased to constitute an important feature of my daily
life. I had a place of resort at all times, and my circle
of acquaintance was greatly increased.

The death of old Mrs. Collier, past ninety, brought
me into further connection with Anthony Sterry, the
Quaker — a most benevolent man. My acquaintance
with him began in an act of rudeness towards him,
in ignorance of the facts of the case. He accepted
my apology in a Christian spirit, which, indeed, he
showed throughout. I had to do with a considerable

sum of money in which he and had an interest.

On the present occasion Sterry proposed that, as there
might be doubtful points, I should be Chancellor, to
decide them. Never had arbitrator so easy a task, for
Sterry took an opportunity of saying to me, " I would
not boast, but I believe Providence has favoured me

more than Friend . I wish, therefore, that thou

wouldst always give the turn in his favour, not mine."

And I ought to add that , on his part, seemed to

be equally unselfish.

Pa7tic of 1825.

313

Towards the close of this year, Thornton* became
connected with the Times. Barnes afterwards said to
me, "We are obHged to you, not you to us." I had
mentioned Thornton to Walter.

This winter was rendered memorable by what was
afterwards spoken of as a crisis or crash in the mercan-
tile world. Many banks failed. Some friends of mine
wrote to ask if I would turn a part of my property
into cash, and advance it to them, I consented to do
this ; but their apprehensions proved to be groundless
— the panic did not seriously affect them. To one
friend, to whom I could be of no service, I had the
satisfaction of administering comfort. His was the case
of a man who, after a life of industry and self-denial,
finds the accumulations of more than fifty years put in
peril. He does not know whether he will not be left
destitute. And, to use his own words, he is " too old to
begin life again, and too young to die." He talked
very philosophically, yet with feeling.

I spent my Christmas, as I had done many, at
Royston. All there were in low spirits, on account of
the failure of the Cambridge Bank. The Nashes say
that, among their friends, nine families are reduced from
affluence to poverty, by unexpected blows of adversity.
Neither Wedd Nash's fine organ, nor Pope's " Epistle
on the Use of Riches," could keep up our spirits ; and,
notwithstanding good punch, our vivat to the New Year
was not a cheerful burst of glee. And never was there
a less merry New Year in London than the present.

Chap. xi.

182.V

Mercantile
panic.

* Thomas Thornton, who, in 1823, married Elizabeth, daughter of H. C. R 's j
l)iother Habakkuk. I

314

Blake resists the Angels.

Chap-, xii.
1826.

Blake's
Book of Job.

CHAPTER XII.

1826.

Jaimary 6th. — A call on Blake. His conversation
was very much a repetition of what he said on a former
occasion. He was very cordial. I had procured him
two subscriptions for his " Job," from George Procter
and Basil Montagu. I paid £1 for each. This seemed
to put him in spirits. He spoke of being richer than
ever, in having become acquainted with me ; and he told

Mrs. A that he and I were nearly of the same

opinions. Yet I have practised no deception inten-
tionally, unless silence be so. The strangest thing he
said was, that he had been commanded to do a certain
thing — that is, to write about Milton — and that he was
applauded for refusing. He struggled with the angels,
and was victor. His wife took part in our conversation.

Jaimary ()th. — My ride to Norwich to-day was diver-
sified by an agreeable incident. On the road, a few
miles out of London, we took up a very gentlemanly
Quaker. He and I did not at once get into conversa-
tion, and when it became light, I amused myself by
reading till the coach stopped for breakfast. Then our
conversation began, and permitted very little reading
afterwards. He told me his name on my making an

Joseph John Gurney.

315

inquiry concerning Hudson Gurney. I was speaking to
J. J. Gurney. We soon entered on controversial sub-
jects. I praised a work of Quaker autobiography with-
out naming it. He said, " Thou meanest * John
Woolman ; ' " and added, " let me not take credit for a
sagacity I do not possess. Amelia Opie has told me of
thy admiration of the book." We now knew each
other, and talked like old acquaintances. He is kind in
his feelings, if not liberal in his opinions. He read to
me some letters from Southey. In one Southey thus
expressed himself : — " I cannot believe in an eternity of
hell. I hope God will forgive me if I err, but in this
matter I cannot say, * Lord, help thou mine unbelief "
J.J. Gurney spoke of Mrs. Opie very kindly, and of
the recent death of her father, Dr. Alderson, as edifying.
He was purged from unbelief.

February 'i^rd. — The whole morning in the Courts,
waiting in the Common Pleas for nothing ; but I saw a
meeting of knights girt with swords to elect the Grand
Assize, a proceeding, it is to be hoped, to be soon
brushed off with a multitude of other antiquated pro-
ceedings, which time has rendered inconvenient.

February 6th. — Late at the Athenaeum. Hudson
Gurney was there. He related with great effect the
experience of Ferguson of Pitfour. Ferguson was a
Scotch Member, a great supporter of Pitt's, both in
Parliament and at the table. Not a refined man, but
popular on account of his good-natured hospitality, and
of the favour he showed to national prejudices. In his
old age he was fond of collecting young M.P.'s at his
table, and of giving them the benefit of his Parlia-

Chap. XII.

1826.

7- 7-

Gurfiey.

Knights

electing the

Grand

Assize.

Ferguson of
Pitfour.

3i6

Blake on Wordsworth.

Ferguson s
Parlia-
mentary

experience.

Blake on
Words-
worth's
Paganism.

Chap. xii. mentary experience, which he used to sum up in these
1826. few axiomatic sentences : —

" I was never present at any debate I could avoid, or
absent from any division I could get at.

" I have heard many arguments which convinced my
judgment, but never one that influenced my vote.

" I never voted but once according to my own opinion,
and that was the worst vote I ever gave.

"■ I found that the only way to be quiet in Parliament
was always to vote with the Ministers, and never to take
a place."

February i?>th. — Called on Blake. An amusing chat
with him. He gave me in his own hand-writing a copy
of Wordsworth's Preface to " The Excursion." At the
end there is this note : —

" Solomon, when he married Pharaoh's daughter, and
became a convert to the heathen mythology, talked
exactly in this way of Jehovah, as a very inferior object
of man's contemplation. He also passed him by * un-
alarmed,' and was permitted. Jehovah dropped a tear,
and followed him by his Spirit into the abstract void.
It is called the Divine mercy. Satan dwells in it, but
mercy does not dwell in him."

Of Wordsworth Blake talked as before. Some of
his writings proceed from the Holy Spirit, but others
are the work of the Devil. However, on this subject, I
found Blake's language more in accordance with ortho-
dox Christianity than before. He talked of being
under the direction of self. Reason, as the creature of
man, is opposed to God's grace. He warmly declared
that all he knew is in the Bible. But he understands

On reason

and

inspiration.

Blake on his own Writings.

317

the Bible in its spiritual sense. As to the natural sense,
he says, "Voltaire was commissioned by God to expose
that. I have had much intercourse with Voltaire, and
he said to me, ' I blasphemed the Son of Man, and it
shall be forgiven me ; but they (the enemies of Voltaire)
blasphemed the Holy Ghost in me, and it shall not be
forgiven them." I asked in what language Voltaire
spoke. " To my sensations,- it was English. It was like
the touch of a musical key. He touched it, probably,
French, but to my ear it became English." I spoke
again of the form of the persons who appear to him,
and asked why he did not draw them. " It is not worth
while. There are so many, the labour would be too
great. Besides, there would be no use. As to Shake-
speare, he is exactly like the old engraving, which is
called a bad one. I think it very good."

I inquired of Blake about his writings. " I have
written more than Voltaire or Rousseau. Six or seven
epic poems as long as Homer, and twenty tragedies as
long as Macbeth." He showed me his vision {for so it
may be called) of Genesis — "as understood by a Christian
visionary." He read a passage at random ; it was strik-
ing. He will not print any more. " I write," he says,
" when commanded by the spirits, and the moment I
have written I see the words fly about the room in all
directions. It is then published, and the spirits can
read. My MS. is of no further use. I have been
tempted to burn my MSS., but my wife won't let me."
— " She is right," said I. " You have written these, not
from yourself, but by order of higher beings. The
MSS. are theirs, not yours. You cannot tell what

Chap. xit.

1826.

Voltaire s

Blake s
account of

his oiun
writings.

3i8

Blake s Horror of Mojiey.

CHAP. XII.

1826.

Blake on
the angels
ascending

and
descending.

His horror
of money.

purpose they may answer unforeseen by you." He liked
this, and said he would not destroy them. He repeated
his philosophy. Everything is the work of God or the
Devil. There is a constant falling off from God, angels
becoming devils. Every man has a devil in him, and
the conflict is eternal between a man's self and God,
&c., &c. He told me my copy of his songs would
be five guineas, and was pleased by my manner of
receiving this information. He spoke of his horror of
money, — of his having turned pale when money was
offered him.

H. C. R. TO Miss Wordsworth.

[No date, but the post mark is February.]

My dear Friend,

I did a mighty foolish thing when I intimated at
the close of my last letter that I should write again very
soon. This was encouraging — not to say inviting — you
to postpone writing till I had so written. Now I have,
you see, not fulfilled my intention. And I take up my
pen now, not so much because I have anything to say,
as to discharge myself of the sort of promise which such
an intimation raised. And, besides, the quantity of what
I shall then have sent you will entitle me to some notice
from you.

Of my friends here, there are few to mention. Clark-
son, Junr., you will probably soon see. He means to visit
you, if possible, on the circuit. He will give you all
Playford and Woodbridge news. The Lambs are really
improving. If you look into the last New Monthly
Magazine, you will be delighted by perceiving that

Lamb against Classifying Poeins.

319

Charles Lamb is himself again. His peculiar mixture
of wit and fancy is to be found there in all its charming
individuality. No one knows better than he the pro-
portions of earnestness and gaiety for his undefinable
compositions. His health, I think, is decidedly improv-
ing.

A few evenings ago I met at his house one of the
attaches to the great Lombard Street shop. He said
that Mr. Wordsworth's works had been repeatedly
inquired after lately ; and that the inquirers had been
referred to Hurst's house. This led to a talk about the
new edition, and the new arrangement. Lamb observed,
" There is only one good order — and that is the order in
which they were written — that is, a history of the poet's
mind." This would be true enough of a poet who
produced everything at a heat, where there is no
pondering, and pausing, and combining, and accumu-
lating, and bringing to bear on one point the inspirations
and the wise reflections of years.

In the last edition — I hope I shall never see it — of
course not meaning the variorum editions of Commen-
tators, but in the last of the author's own editions
intended for future generations, the editor will say to
himself — aware of the habit people have of beginning
at the beginning, and ending at the end — How shall I be
best understood and most strongly felt t By what train
of thought and succession of feelings is the reader to be
led on — ^how will his best faculties and wisest curiosity
be most excited .-' The dates given to the table of con-
tents will be sufficient to inform the inquisitive reader
how the poet's own mind was successively engaged.

Chap. xii.
1826.
Lamb.

Lamb on

classifying

poems.

Print them

in the order

of birth.

320

Classification of

Chap. xii.
1826.

An editor's
classifica-
tion not
that of the
poet.

Lamb disapproves (and it gave me pleasure to find I was
authorized by his opinion in the decided opinion I had
from the first) of the classification into poems of fancy,
imagination, and reflection. The reader who is enjoying
(for instance) to the top of his bent the magnificent
Ode which in every classification ought to be the last,
does not stay to ask, nor does he care, what faculty has
been most taxed in the production. This is certain,
that what the poet says of nature is equally true of the
mind of man, and the productions of his faculties.
They exist not in " absolute independent singleness."
To attempt ascertaining curiously the preponderance of
any one faculty in each work is a profitless labour.

An editor such as Dr. Johnson would make short
work of it. All the elegies, all the odes, all the
sonnets, all the etceteras together. But then your
brother has had the impertinence to plague the critics
by producing works that cannot be brought under any
of the heads of Enfield's " Speaker," though he has not
a few that might be entitled, A Copy of Verses. Why a
copy .-• I used to ask when a schoolboy. Goethe has
taken this class of poems under his especial protection.
And his " Gelegenheit's Gedichte " (Occasional Poems)
are among the most delightful of his works. My
favourites of this class among your brother's works are,
" Lady ! the Songs of Spring were in the Grove," and
" Lady ! I rifled a Parnassian Cave."

One exception I am willing to make in favour of the
Sonnet^ though otherwise a classification according to
metrical form is the most unmeaning.

If I may venture to express the order that I should

Wordsworth' s Poems.

521

most enjoy, it would be one formed on the great objects
of human concern ; though I should be by no means
solicitous about any, or care for the inevitable blend -
ings and crossings of classes. Were these poems in
Italian, one grand class would be alia bella Nattira.
Unluckily, we want this phrase, which both the Germans
and French have. Der schonen Natur gewidmet. Such
a heading would be affected in English. Still, I should
like to see brought together all the poems which are
founded on that intense love of nature — that exqui-
sitive discernment of its peculiar charms — and that
almost deification of nature which poor Blake (but of
that hereafter) reproaches your brother with. As sub-
divisions, would be the Duddon, the Memorials, the
naming of places. One division of the Sonnets would
correspond with this great class.

After nature come the contemplations of human life,
viewed in its great features — infancy and youth — active
life (viz. "the happy warrior") — old age and death. Col-
lateral with these are the affections arising out of the
social relations — maternal and filial — fraternal and con-
nubial love, &c,, &c., &c. Then there is a third great
division, which might be entitled The Age. Here we
should be forced to break into the Sonnets, in which
shape most of these poems are. Why is the " Thanks-
giving Ode" to be the last of this class } It is a sort of
moral and intellectual suicide in your brother not to
have continued his admirable series of poems " dedi-
cated to liberty" — he might add "and public virtue."
***♦♦*

I assure you it gives me real pain when I think that
VOL. II. V

Chap. xir.

1826.

The Nature
poems.

The

Human

Life poems.

Poems of
the Age.

322

Classification of Poems.

Chap. xii.

1826.

Political
poems 7iil
after 18 14.

Religious
poems.

H. C. R.

describes
Blake.

some future commentator may possibly hereafter write,
— " This great poet survived to the fifth decennary of
the nineteenth century, but he appears to have died
in the year 18 14, as far as hfe consisted in an active
sympathy with the temporary welfare of his fellow-
creatures. He had written heroically and divinely
against the tyranny of Napoleon, but was quite indif-
ferent to all the successive tyrannies which disgraced
the succeeding times."

A fourth class would be the religious poems. Here I
have a difficulty : ought these to be separated from the
philosophical poems, or united with them } In some
of these poems, Mr. Wordsworth has given poetical
existence to feelings in which the mafiy will join ; others
are moods of his own mind, mystical, as the mob —
philosophical, as the few would say. I should give my
vote for a separation. The longer narrative poems,
such as the " White Doe," would form classes of them-
selves.

I have above mentioned Blake. I forget whether I
have referred before to this very interesting man, with
whom I am now become acquainted. Were the
"Memorials" at my hand, I should quote a fine passage
in the Sonnet on the Cologne Cathedral as applicable to
the contemplation of this singular being.* I gave your
brother some poems in MS. by him, and they interested
him, as well they might ; for there is an affinity between
them, as there is between the regulated imagination of a

» Probably these lines : —
I " O for the help of Angels to complete

; This Temple — Angels governed by a plan

' Thus far pursued (how gloriously ! ) by man.'

Blake described.

323

wise poet and the incoherent outpourings of a dreamer.
Blake is an engraver by trade, a painter and a poet also,
whose works have been a subject of derision to men
in general ; but he has a few admirers, and some of
eminence have eulogized his designs. He has lived in
obscurity and poverty, to which the constant halluci-
nations in which he lives have doomed him. I do not
mean to give you a detailed account of him; a few
words will serve to inform you of what class he is. He
is not so much a disciple of Jacob Bohme and Sweden-
borg as a fellow-visionary. He lives as they did, in a
world of his own, enjoying constant intercourse with
the world of spirits. He receives visits from Shake-
speare, Milton, Dante, Voltaire, &c., and has given me
repeatedly their very words in their conversations. His
paintings are copies of what he sees in his visions. His
books (and his MSS. are immense in quantity) are
dictations from the spirits. A man so favoured, of
course, has sources of wisdom and truth peculiar to
himself. I will not pretend to give you an account
of his religious and philosophical opinions ; they are
a strange compound of Christianity, Spinozism, and
Platonism. I must confine myself to what he has said
about your brother's works, and I fear this may lead
me far enough to fatigue you in following me. After
what I have said, Mr. Wordsworth will not be flattered
by knowing that Blake deems him the only poet of
the age, nor much alarmed by hearing that Blake
thinks that he is often in his works an Atheist.
Now, according to Blake, Atheism consists in wor-
shipping the natural world, which same natural

Y 2

Chap. xii.
1826.

Blake no

man s
follower.

His

religious
opinions.

His
estimate of
Words-
worth,

The slaves
of Nature

are
Atheists.

324

Blake on Wordsworth.

Chap, xii.
1826.

Milton,

Dante, and

Words-

•worth

Atheists.

Diarrhcetic

effect of

The

Excursion.

Passing
'''Jehovah

un-
alarmed."

world, properly speaking, is nothing real, but a mere
illusion produced by Satan. Milton was for a great
part of his life an Atheist, and therefore has fatal errors
in his " Paradise Lost," which he has often begged
Blake to confute. Dante (though now with God) lived
and died an Atheist ; he was the slave of the world
and time. But Dante and Wordsworth, in spite of
their Atheism, were inspired by the Holy Ghost.
Indeed, all real poetry is the work of the Holy Ghost,
and Wordsworth's poems (a large proportion, at least)
are the work of Divine inspiration. Unhappily, he is
left by God to his own illusions, and then the Atheism
is apparent. I had the pleasure of reading to Blake, in
my best style (and you know I am vain on that point,
and think I read Wordsworth's poems peculiarly well),
the " Ode on Immortality." I never witnessed greater
delight in any listener ; and in general Blake loves the
poems. What appears to have disturbed his mind, on
the other hand, is the Preface to " The Excursion." He
told me, six months ago, that it caused him a stomach
complaint, which nearly killed him. When I first saw
Blake at Mrs. Aders', he very earnestly asked me, " Is
Mr. Wordsworth a sincere, real Christian ?" In reply to
my answer, he said, " If so, what does he mean by the
worlds to which the heaven of heavens is but a veil ?
and who is he that shall pass Jehovah unalarmed ?" It
is since then that I have lent Blake all the works which
he but imperfectly knew, I doubt whether what I
have written will excite your and Mr, Wordsworth's
curiosity ; but there is something so delightful about
the man, — though in great poverty, he is so perfect a

Blake's Poverty ajtd Refinement.

325

gentleman, with such genuine dignity and indepen-
dence— scorning presents, and of such native delicacy in
words, &c., &c., &c. — that I have not scrupled promis-
ing to bring him and Mr. Wordsworth together. He
expressed his thanks strongly, saying, " You do me
honour : Mr. Wordsworth is a great man. Besides, he
may convince me I am wrong about him ; I have
been wrong before now," &c. Coleridge has visited
Blake, and I am told talks finely about him.

That I might not encroach on a third sheet, I have
compressed what I had to say about Blake. You must
see him one of these days, and he will interest you, at
all events, whatever character you give to his mind.

I go on the 1st of March on the circuit, which will
last a month. If you write during that time direct,
" On the Norfolk Circuit ;" if before, direct here.

My best remembrances to Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth.
And recollect again that you are not to read all this
letter to any one if it will offend. And you are your-
self to forgive it, coming from one who is

Affectionately your friend,

H. C. R.

March 22nd. — A consultation in a libel case for a
Methodist preacher. Rather a comic scene. The zeal
as well as the taste of the partisans of the prosecutor
was shown in the brief. One sentence I copy as a
specimen : — " This shameful trash, originating in the
profoundest malice, nurtured and propagated on the
base hope of extortion, has ingratitude unparalleled for
its stain, wickedness hitherto undiscovered for its nature,

Chap. xii.

1826.

Blake's
poverty and
refinement.

A Libel
Case,

Methodist

preacher's

brief.

326

Book borrowed from Lamb.

Chap. xii. and the indelible shame of its own reputation to seal

1826.
Niece.

How evil
reports arise
and spread.

Hay s

Essay on

Deformity.

the abhorrent character of its crime,"

March z^rd. — Was much pleased with my great-
niece (daughter of Tom). She has as many indications
of sensibility and talent as I ever witnessed in a child
not much more than two years old. She sings with
apparently a full feeling of what she sings.

April i6th. — A report concerning sufficiently

spread to make his return from the Continent necessary.
Yet A says he is quite satisfied that the report is
groundless. It cannot be traced to any authority what-
ever, and it is of a kind which, though highly injurious,
might arise out of the most insignificant of idle re-
marks. A says to B, " Nobody knows why

keeps abroad : it is quite unaccountable. His friends
say nothing," B says to C, " Have you heard why
keeps away ,-' Can he be in difficulties?" In

speaking of the matter to D, C acknowledges that there

is a suspicion that is in difficulties, and adds, " I

hope there is nothing in it, for I had a high opinion of
him. Better say nothing," Surmises increase, and the
whisper goes down to Z, and comes back and crosses
and jostles ; and unless some one gives himself the
trouble to write to the subject of these reports, he
comes home to find his reputation gone.

April 2-^1'd. — Called late on Lamb. He lent me a
humorous " Essay on Deformity," which I read with
pleasure. It is very much in Lamb's own style of
humour, and is a piece of playful self-satire, if not
written in the assumed character of a hump-backed,
diseased member of Parliament, Published by Dods-

Coleridge s "Aids to Rejlcction."

327

ley, 1794, the author, William Hay, Esq. He would
have been known to the wits of his age.*

May \Wt. — At night over Coleridge's "Aids to
Reflection," a work which has interested me*greatly and
occupied me much of late. It has remarkable talent
and strange singularities. His religion that of the
vulgar, his philosophy his own. This work exhibits the
best adaptation of Kantian principles to English religious
sentiment.

Rem.'f — That beautiful composition, in the special
sense of being compounded of the production of the
Scotch Abp. Leighton and himself, I compared to an
ancient statue said to be made of ivory and gold
likening the part belonging to the Archbishop to ivory,
and that belonging to Coleridge to gold. Coleridge
somewhere admits that, musing over Leighton's text, he
was not always able to distinguish what was properly
his own from what was derived from his master.
Instead of saying in my journal that his philosophy is
his own, and his religion that of the vulgar, might I not
more truly have said that he was not unwilling in some
publication to write both ^j-^terically and ^.r^terically }

May 20th. — At Miss Sharpe's. A small but agree-
able party — the Flaxmans, Aikins, &c. Samuel Rogers
came late, and spoke about Wordsworth's poems with
great respect, but with regret at his obstinate adherence
to his peculiarities.

Rem.\ — There was at this time a current anecdote
that Rogers once said to Wordsworth, " If you would

* Works on Deformity, &c., by William Hay. London, 1794. 4to. 2 vols,
t Written in 1852. J Written in 1852.

Chap. xii.
1826.

Coleridge s

Aids to
Reflection.

Derived
much from
Leighton.

S. Rogers
on Words-
worth.

328

Lamb sitting for his Portrait.

Chap. xii.
1826,

Scar gill.

Portrait of
Lamb.

Lis ton.

Paul Pry.

Dr.

Kitchener,

let me edit your poems, and give me leave to omit
some half-dozen, and make a few trifling alterations, I
would engage that you should be as popular a poet
as any living." Wordsworth's answer is said to have
been, " I am much obliged to you, Mr. Rogers ; I am a
poor man, but I would rather remain as I am."

May 26th. — Mr. Scargill* breakfasted with me. A
sensible man. He said, an Englishman is never happy
but when he is miserable ; a Scotchman is never at
home but when he is abroad ; an Irishman is at peace
only when he is fighting.

Called on Meyer of Red Lion Square, where Lamb
was sitting for his portrait.f A strong likeness ; but it
gives him the air of a thinking man, and is more like
the framer of a system of philosophy than the genial
and gay author of the " Essays of Elia."

May 2'jth. — At the Haymarket. An agreeable
evening. I saw nothing but Liston. In " Quite
Correct" he is an innkeeper, very anxious to be quite
correct, and understanding everything literally. His
humorous stupidity is the only pleasant thing in the
piece. In " Paul Pry" he is not the mar-plot but the
make-plot of the play, for by his prying and picking
out of the water some letter by which a plot is detected,
he exposes a knavish housekeeper, who is on the point
of inveigling an old bachelor into marriage. Liston's
inimitable face is the only amusement.

Jtine $th. — A party at Miss Benger's. Saw Dr.

• The supposed author of the "Autobiography of a Dissenting Minister."
t There is a lithograph by Vinter of this portrait in Barry Cornwall's
"Memoir of Charles Lamb," p. 19a.

Irving's Intolerance,

329

Kitchener, of gastronomic celebrity, but had no conver-
sation with him. A grave and formal man, with long
face and spectacles. Other authors were there — a Mr.
Jerdan, the editor of the Literary Gazette* a work I do
not like ; Miss Landon, a young poetess — a starling —
the " L. E. L." of the Gazette, with a gay good-
humoured face, which gave me a favourable impression ;
an Australian poet, with the face of a frog ; and Miss
Porter (Jane), who is looking much older than when I
last saw her.

June \2th. — With W. Pattisson at Irving's. We took
tea there. Some slight diminution of respect for him.
He avowed intolerance. Thought the Presbyterian
clergy were right in insisting on the execution of
Aikenhead for blasphemy. -f* Yet I cannot deny the
consistency of this. The difficulty lies in reconciling
any form of Christianity with tolerance. There came
in several persons, who were to read the Prophets with
Irving. I liked what I saw of these people, but Pattis-
son and I came away, of course, before the reading
began. Irving has sunk of late in public opinion in
consequence of his writing and preaching about the

* Literary Gazette, and Journal of Belles Lettres, Arts, Sciences, tfc. A
weekly periodical established in 1817, under the editorship of William Jerdan,
Esq., and continued by the Rev. H. Christmas.

t Thomas Aikenhead, a student of eighteen, was hanged at Edinburgh, in
1697, for having uttered free opinions about the Trinity and some of the books
of the Bible. His offence was construed as blasphemy under an old Scottish
statute, which was strained for the purpose of convicting him. After his
sentence he recanted, and begged a short respite to make his peace with God.
This the Privy Council declined to grant, unless the Edinburgh clergy would
intercede for him ; but so far were they from seconding his petition, that they
actually demanded that his execution should not be delayed ! (See " Macaulay's
History," Vol. IV., pp. 781-4.)

Chap. xii.

1826.

Literary
Gazette.

L. E. L.

Irving.

His belief
in a shortly
coming mil-
lennium.

330

Coleridge's Talk difficult to Note.

Chap. xn.
1826.

Blake.

Reason the
only sin.

Coleridge

and
Irving.

Difficulty of
reporting
Coleridge s
conversa-
tion.

Popish

practices of

some who

cry No

Popety.

millennium, which, as he said this afternoon, he believes
will come in less than forty years. He is certainly an
enthusiast — I fear, too, a fanatic.

June iph. — Called early on Blake. He was as wild
as ever, with no great novelty. He talked, as usual,
of the spirits, asserted that he had committed many
murders, that reason is the only evil or sin, and that
careless people are better than those who, &c., &c.

June i$th. — Called at Montagu's. Rode with him,
Mrs. Montagu, and Irving to Highgate. Coleridge, as
usual, very eloquent, but, as usual, nothing remains now
in my mind that I can venture to insert here. I never
took a note of Coleridge's conversation which was not
a caput mortuum. But still there is a spirit, and a
glorious spirit too, in what he says at all times. Irving
was not brilliant, but gloomy in his denunciations of
God's vengeance against the nation for its irreligion.
By-the-by, Coleridge declaims against Irving for his
reveries about the Prophecies. Irving, however, pleased
me by his declaration on Monday, that Coleridge had
convinced him that he was a bibliolatrist.

June lyth, Rem.* — Went down to Witham, and
Pattisson drove me to Maldon, that I might exercise
my electoral franchise. The Pattissons were then Whigs
and Liberals, and Mr. Lennard was their candidate.
There was a sort of medium man, a Mr. Wynn, a Tory,
but less offensive than Quentin Dick, a vulgar anti-
papist. I gave a plumper for Lennard, and made a
speech on the hustings. I began wilfully with a few
sentences meant for fun, and gained a little applause.

* Written in 1853.

Eminence in Art and Politics compared.

331

I declared that I was an enemy to popish practices.
But when I turned round and said that the anti-catholic
laws were of a popish character, and therefore I was
against them, the storm of hisses and screams was
violent. One fellow cried out, " Don't believe that feller
— he's a lawyer — he's paid for what he says." I enjoyed
the row, and could well imagine how a man used to
being abused, and knowing that it is his party, and not
he, that is attacked, can very well bear it.

Jime 2'jth. — Dined at Flaxman's. Mr. Tulk, late
M.P. for Sudbury, his father-in-law, Mr, Norris, and a
namesake of mine, Mr. Robinson, I think an M.P.
Our talk chiefly on public matters. The littleness of
this sort of greatness is now so deeply impressed on me,
that I am in no danger of overestimating the honours
which public office confers. The quiet and dignity at-
tendant on a man of genius, like Flaxman, are worth
immeasurably more than anything which popular favour
can give. The afternoon was as lively as the oppressive
heat would permit.

Irish Tour.*
Jidy T,oth. — I left London early by coach, and the
journey was rendered pleasant by an agreeable com-
panion, the son of an old and valued friend. On
passing through Devizes, I had a mortifying sense of

• This tour is given more at length than usual, as one in which Mr. Robin-
son himself felt especial interest He says of it : " My Reminiscences of this
journey were written nearly eight years ago [i.e. in 1843), when I by no means
thought I should write so much as I have done, and when I hoped merely mat
I might be able to produce something worth preserving for friends after my
death. I had already written an account of my adventures in Holstein in 1807,
and what I wrote next is contained in the following pages."

Chap. xii.
1826.

At
Flaxman' s.

A genius

among

politicians.

Devizes.

332

On a Tour.

Chap. xii.
1826.

The river
Avon at
Bristol.

my own forgetfulness, as well as of the transiency of
human things. There I spent three years at school.
But I could not without difficulty find an individual in
the place who knows me now. Not a school-fellow have
I any recollection of. The very houses had nearly
grown out of knowledge ; and an air of meanness in
the streets was very unpleasant to me. Yet, had I not
been expected elsewhere, I should have stayed a night
at the Bear.* I could, perhaps, have found out some
once familiar walk.

We were set down at Melksham, twelve miles before
Bath, at the house of the mother of my companion,
Mrs. Evans, a widow.f Her sister-in-law and a cousin
were there, one daughter and three sons, besides my
companion. They seemed to have one heart between
them all, and to be as affectionate a knot of worthy
people as I ever saw. Mrs. Evans and her sister were
glad to see an old acquaintance, who enabled them to
live over again some hours they might otherwise have
forgotten for ever.

August ^th. — I proceeded to the Hot Wells, Bristol.

Rem.l — My journal expresses disgust at the sight of
the river Avon, "a deep bank of sohd dirty clay on
each side with a streamlet of liquid mud in the centre."
I should not think it worth while to mention this, were
it not to add that a few years since I found this Western
port vastly improved by the formation of a wet dock, so

* The inn formerly kept by the father of Sir T. Lawrence.

f The widow of my excellent friend Joseph Evans, who died in 1812, and
who was a son of Dr. Evans of Bristol, Principal of a Baptist College there.
— H. C. R.

J Written in 1843.

First Visit to Ireland.

333

that the city is in a degree relieved from the nuisance of
a tidal river. I had the company of a younger son of
Mrs. Evans.*

Atigiist $th. — I embarked in a steamer for Cork.
The cabin passengers paid £i each ; the steerage
passengers 2s. A pleasant voyage, with pleasant com-
panions, whom I have never heard of since.

August 6tk. — Landed early in the Cove of Cork.
And four of us were put on a jaunting-car or jingle.
I was amused and surprised by the efficiency of man
and beast. The animal, small and rough, but vigorous ;
the driver all rags and vivacity. He managed — ^how
I could not conceive — to pack us all on his car, and
vast quantities of luggage too, with the oddest tackle
imaginable — pack-thread, handkerchiefs, &c., &c.

Rem.-\ — My first impression of the Irish poor was
never altered. The men were all rags. Those who did
not beg or look beggingly (and many such I saw) were
worse dressed than an English beggar. The women,
though it was summer, had on dark cloth cloaks. Yet,
except the whining or howling beggars, the gaiety of
these poverty-stricken creatures seemed quite invincible.

"And they, so perfect is their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement."

O'Connell one day, pointing to a wretched house, said
to me, " Had you any idea of so much wretchedness } "
I answered, " I had no idea of so little wretchedness
with such destitution."

* Either he or his brother is now the printer and part proprietor of Punch.
— H. C. R. 1843.
■j- Written in 1843.

Chap. xii.

1826.

Cork.

The Irish
poor.

334

Cork. — Dan. O' Connell in Court.

Chap. xii.
1826.

The Courts
of yustice
at Cork.

Justice
Torrens.

Dan.
O' Conncll.

Baron
Pcnne-
father.

August yth. — I rose early and took a walk in the city.
After breakfast, seeing in the coffee-room two gentle-
men who appeared to be barristers, I presented my card
to them, told them I was an English barrister, and
requested them to take me into court. They complied
with great politeness. The name of one was Thwaites.
The courts, two wretched buildings in the shape of
meeting-houses ; the jury sitting aloft in the gallery,
and the counsel, on one side, sitting so near the gallery
that they were obliged to lift up their heads ludicrously
to catch a glimpse of the foreman.

I went first into the Nisi Prius Court. Mr. Justice
Torrens was sitting. A very young-looking, fair-com-
plexioned, mild and gentlemanly man. A point of law
was being argued. The prominent man at the Bar was
a thick-set, broad-faced, good-humoured, middle-aged
person, who spoke with the air of one conscious of
superiority. It was Daniel O'Connell. He began to
talk over with Mr. Thwaites the point under discussion.
I could not help putting in a word. " You seem, sir,
to be of our profession," said O'Connell. " I am an
English barrister." He asked my name, and from that
moment commenced a series of civilities which seem
likely to be continued, and may greatly modify this
journey. He took me by the arm, led me from court to
court, as he had business in most cases, and yet found
time to chat with me at intervals all the day. He made
much of me, and, as I have no doubt, from a mere
exuberance of good-nature.

In the other court was Baron Pennefather,' a man
whom all the Bar praised for his manners as well as for

H. C. R. finds a School-fellow.

335

his abilities. He had nevertheless a droll air, with a
simplicity somewhat quizzical.

With the judges as well as the Bar and the people
O'Connell seemed to be a sort of pet ; his good-humour
probably atoning for his political perversities, and, what
must have been to his colleagues more objectionable,
his great success. Bennett, K.C., was his chief op-
ponent— a complete contrast. Wagget, Recorder of
Cork, is a man of ingratiating sweetness of manner.
Among the juniors is O'Loghlen, a rising man with a
good face.*

I found that business was transacted with more
gravity and politeness than I had expected. An
Insurance cause was tried, in which both judges and
counsel seemed to be at fault. It is only recently that
insurances have been effected here. On questions of
evidence greater latitude was allowed than in our
English courts. That is, there was more common sense,
with fewer technicalities. I amused myself attending
to the business, with one incident to divert my mind,
and that is worth mentioning.

I recollected that among my school-fellows at Devizes
was a Cork boy, named Johnson. I had heard of his
being an attorney. I recalled his countenance to my
mind — red hair, reddish eyes, very large nose, and fair
complexion. I looked about, and actually discovered
my old school-fellow in the Under Sheriff. On inquiry,
I found I was right in my guess. When the judge

* I have since reet him at Rolfe's, when he, the Solicitor-General of Ireland,
was visiting the Solicitor-General of England. He died, lamented, as Master
of the Rolls —H. C. R.

Chap. xii.
1826.

The Irish
Bar.

An Insur-
ance cause.

An old
school-
fellow.

336

Schoolboy Recollections interchanged.

Dinner

with Under

Sheriff

Johnson,

Schoolboy
recollec-
tions.

Chap. xii. retired I went up to the Under Sheriff and said, " Will
1826. you allow me to ask you an impertinent question?"
His look implied, " Any question that is 7iot imperti-
j nent." — " Were you at school at Devizes ? " — " Yes, I
was. Why, you are not an old school-fellow ? " — " Yes,
I am." — " I shall be glad to talk with you." Our con-
versation ended in my engaging to dine with him to-
morrow.

August ?)th. — The morning was spent in lounging
about the environs of Cork, about which I shall say
nothing here. In the afternoon I went to my old
school-fellow, Johnson, whom I found handsomely housed
in the Parade. Accompanied him and two strangers
in a jingle to his residence at our landing-place. Pas-
sage. From first to last I could not bring myself back
to his recollection ; but I had no difficulty in satisfying
him that I had been his school-fellow, so many were the
recollections we had in common, Johnson has a wife,
an agreeable woman, and a large fine family. He gave
me an account of himself. He began the world with a
guinea, and by close attention to business is now at the
head of his profession. For many years he has been
Solicitor to the Admiralty, Excise, Customs, and Stamp
Office. He is a zealous Protestant — I fear an Orange-
man. I therefore avoided politics, for, had we quarrelled,
we could not, as formerly, have settled our difference by
a harmless boxing-match. But our old school was a
subject on" which we both had great pleasure in talking.
Our recollections were not always of the same circum-
stances, and so we could assist each other. " Do you
remember Cuthbert ? " said his daughter. " What,"

With Dan. O'ConnelL

337

said I, " a shy, blushing lad, very gentle and amiable ? "
She turned to her father, and said, " If we could have
doubted that this gentleman was your school-fellow,
this would be enough to convince us. He has described
Cuthbert as he was to the last." She said this with
tears in her eyes. He was the friend of the family, and
but lately dead. Johnson promised that if I would visit
him on my return, he would invite three or four school-
fellows to meet me.

The drive to Passage was very beautiful ; but the
boy who drove me did not keep his promise, to call for
me before nine, to take me back, and so I had to
walk.

August ()th. — This, too, a very interesting day. I rose
early, strolled on the fine Quay, and breakfasted. After
eight I was packed upon the Killarney Mail, with a
crowded mass of passengers and luggage, heaped up in
defiance of all regulations of Parliament or prudence.
The good humour with which every one submitted to
inconveniences was very national. I was wedged in
behind when I heard a voice exclaim, "You must get
down, Mr. Robinson, and sit by O'Connell in front. He
insists on it." The voice was that of a barrister whom
I had seen in court, and who, by pressing me to change
places with him, led to my having as interesting a ride
as can be imagined ; for " the glorious Counsellor," as
he was hailed by the natives on the road, is a capital
companion, with high animal spirits, infinite good
temper, great earnestness in discussion, and replete with
intelligence on all the subjects we talked upon. There
was sufficient difference between us to produce incessant
VOL. II. Z

Chap. xir.
1826.

Coach
journey

with

Daniel

O' Connell.

Talk with
O ' Conn ell.

338

Starting-point for Controversy.

Chap. xii.
1826.

Talk with
O' Conn ell.

Is Roman
Catholicism
intolerant ?

controversy, and sufficient agreement to generate kind-
ness and respect. Perceiving, at first, that he meant to
have a long talk on the stirring topics of the day, I
took an early opportunity of saying, " In order that we
should be on fair terms, as I know a great deal about
you, and you know nothing about me, it is right that I
should tell you that I am by education a Dissenter, that
I have been brought up to think, and do think, the
Roman Catholic Church the greatest enemy to civil and
religious liberty, and that from a religious point of view
it is the object of my abhorrence. But, at the same time,
you cannot have, politically, a warmer friend. I think
emancipation your right. I do not allow myself to ask
whether in like circumstances you would grant us what
you demand. Emancipation is your right. And were
I a Roman Catholic, there is no extremity I would not
risk in order to get it."

These, as nearly as possible, were my words. On
my ending, he seized me by the hand very cordially,
and said, " I would a thousand times rather talk with
one of your way of thinking than with one of my own."
Of course the question of the truth or falsehood of the
several schemes of religion was not once adverted to,
but merely the collateral questions of a historical or
judicial bearing. And on all these O'Connell had an
infinite advantage over me, in his much greater acquaint-
ance with the subject. He maintained stoutly that
intolerance is no essential principle of the Roman
Catholic Church, but is unhappily introduced by poli-
ticians for secular interests, the priests of all religions >
having yielded on this point to kings and magistrates.

Proclamntion and Shooting Down Catholics.

339

Of this he did not convince me. He also affirmed — and
this may be true — that during the reign of Queen Mary
not a single Protestant was put to death in Ireland.
Nor was there any reaction against the Protestants
during the reign of James II.

Our conversation was now and then amusingly diver-
sified by incidents. It was known on the road that
"the glorious Counsellor" was to be on the coach, and
therefore at every village, and wherever we changed
horses, there was a knot of people assembled to cheer
him. The country we traversed was for the most part
wild, naked, and comfortless.

I will mention only the little town of Macroom,
because I here alighted, and was shown the interior of
a gentleman's seat (Hedges Eyre, Esq.), — a violent
Orangeman, I was told. However, in spite of the
squire, there was in the town a signboard on which
was the very " Counsellor" himself, with a visage as
fierce as the Saracen's head. He would not confess to
having sat for the picture, and promised us one still
finer on the road.

On a very wild plain he directed my attention to a
solitary tree, at a distance so great that it was difficult
to believe a rifle would carry a ball so far. Yet here a
great-uncle of O'Connell's was shot. He had declared
that he would shoot a man who refused to fight him
on account of his being a Catholic. For this he was
proclaimed under a law passed after the Revolution,
authorizing the Government to declare it lawful to put
to death the proclaimed individuals. He never left his
house unarmed, and he kept at a distance from houses

Z 2

Chap. xii.
1826.

Incidents
by the way.

The

Counsellor s

Head.

340

Dan. and the Beggar.

Chap. xii.

1826.

Incidents
by the way.

Talk
continued.

Intolerance
of Roman
Catho-
licism.

and places where his enemies might He in wait for him ;
but he had miscalculated the power of the rifle.

At one of the posting-houses there was with the
crowd a very, very old woman, with grey eyes, far
apart, and an expression that reminded me of that
excellent woman, D. W. As soon as we stopped she
exclaimed, with a piercing voice, " Oh, that I should
hve to see your noble honour again ! Do give me some-
thing, your honour, to ." — " Why, you are an old

cheat," cried the Counsellor, " Did you not ask me for
a sixpence last time, to buy a nail for your coffin ?" — " I
believe I did, your honour, and I thought it." — "Well,
then, there's a shilling for you, but only on condition
that you are dead before I come this way again." She
caught the shilling, and gave a scream of joy that quite
startled me. She set up a caper, and cried out, " I'll
buy a new cloak — I'll buy a new cloak !" — "You foolish
old woman, nobody will give you a shilling if you have
a new cloak on." — " Oh, but I won't wear it here, I
won't wear it here ! " And, when the horses started, we
left her still capering, and the collected mob shouting
the praises of "the glorious Counsellor." Everywhere
he seemed to be the object of warm attachment on
the part of the people. And even from Protestants
I heard a very high character of him as a private
gentleman.

To recur once more to our conversation. On my
telling him that if he could prove his assertion that
intolerance is not inherent in Roman Catholicism, he
would do more than by any other means to reconcile
Protestants to Roman Catholics, — that the fires of

Grattan.

341

Smithfield are oftener thought of than the seven sacra-
ments or the mass, he recommended Milner's " Letters
to a Prebendary," * and a pamphlet on the CathoHc
claims by Dr. Troy.-j* He said, " Of all the powerful
intellects I have ever encountered, Dr. Troy's is the
most powerful."

He related a very important occurrence, which, if
true, ought by this time to be one of the acknowledged
facts of history.| During the famous rising of the Irish
volunteers, in 1786, the leaders of the party, the Bishop
of Bristol, Lord Charlemont, and Mr. Flood, had re-
solved on declaring the independence of Ireland. At a
meeting held for the purpose of drawing up the pro-
clamation, Grattan made his appearance, and confounded
them all by his determined opposition. " Unless you
put me to death this instant, or pledge your honour
that you will abandon the project, I will go instantly
to the Castle, and denounce you all as traitors." His
resolution and courage prevailed. This was known to
the Government, and therefore it was that the Govern-

* "Letters to a Prebendary: being an Answer to Reflections on Popery.
By the Rev. J. Sturges, LL.D. With Remarks on the Opposition of Hoadlyism
to the Doctrines of the Church of England, &c. By the Rev. John Milner."
Winchester, 1800. 4to.

t Archbishop of DubHn. An Irish friend to whom I have shown this pas-
sage, thinks that H. C. R. must have confounded names, and that it was of
Father Arthur O'Leary O'Connell spoke as having produced a powerful
pamphlet on the Catholic claims. O'Leary's "Loyalty Asserted" appeared
in 1777. His "Essay on Toleration; or, Plea for Liberty of Conscience,"
appeared in 1780 or 1781.

X This anecdote does not seem to be correct as it stands. There was no
rising of volunteers in 1786; only a weak and ineffectual convention of
delegates. Their power had been already long on the wane. Flood and
Grattan were then bitter enemies. Moreover, the grant (not pension) to
Grattan was in 1783.

Chap. xii.
1826.

Grattan
and the
indepen-
dence of
Ireland.

342

King Dan!s Commands to H. C. R.

Chap. xii.

1826.

Invitation

to visit

O'Connell

Derrynane.

King Dan.
commands
attendance.

The Lakes

of
Killarney.

ment assented to the grant of a pension by the Irish
Parliament,

We arrived, about four o'clock, at the mean and un-
comfortable little town of Killarney. On our arrival
O'Connell said, just as I was about to alight, " You are
aware by this time that I am king of this part of
Ireland. Now, as I have the power, I tell you that I
will not suffer you to alight until you give me your
word of honour that on Monday next you will be at
the house of .my brother-in-law, Mr. M'Swiney, at
Cahir. There I shall be with my family, and you must
then accompany me to Derrynane, my residence. Now,
promise me that instantly." — " I am too well aware of
your power to resist you ; and therefore I do promise."
He took me to the Kenmare Arms, and introduced me
as a particular friend ; and I have no doubt that the
attentions I received were greatly owing to the recom-
mendation of so powerful a patron. A glance shows
me that this spot deserves all its fame for the beauty
of its environs.

Angust loth. — Having risen early and begun my
breakfast, I was informed by my landlord, that four
gentlemen would be glad if I would join them in an
excursion to the Lower Lake. Two were a father and
son, by no means companionable, but perfectly inno-
cuous. The other two were very good society ; one Mr.
J. White, of Glengariff, a nephew of Lord Bantry ; the
other a Mr. Smith, the son of a magistrate, whose family
came into Ireland under Cromwell. We walked to
Ross Castle, and there embarked on the lake for Muck-
russ Abbey, where we saw bones and fragments of

Kj Harney. — A Hedge-school.

343

coffins lying about most offensively. We next proceeded
to the Tore Lake, landed at Tore Cottage, and saw a
cascade. At Innisfallen Island we had the usual meal
of roasted salmon. The beauties of these places — are
they not written in the guide-books .-* Our coxswain
was an intelligent man, and not the worse for believing
in the O'Donoghue and his spectral appearances.

August nth. — Walked up the mountain Mangerton.
Had a little boy for our guide. He took us by a glen
from Mr. Coltman's new house. On our way we saw a
number of cows, where the pasture is said to be rich,
and our little guide pointed out a ledge of stone where,
he said, " a man goes a-summering." He attends to the
cows, and lives under the shelter of the ledge of stone.
We saw, of course, the famous Devil's Punch-bowl. On
the summit a magnificent mountain scene presented
itself Three gentlemen as well as ourselves were there,
and one of them, a handsome young man, with the air of
an officer, accosted me with the question whether I was
not at Munich three years ago, when a German student
fought a duel. That incident I well recollect.

August \2th. — A drive to the Gap of Dunloe. Near
the entrance I observed a hedge-school — some eight
or ten ragged urchins sitting literally in a ditch. The
boatman said the master is " a man of bright learning
as any in Kerry." A remarkable feature in the rocks of
this pass is that they take a dark colour from the action
of water on them. The charm of the Gap was the echo
called forth in several places by a bugleman, a well-
behaved man, and an admirable player. He played
the huntsman's chorus in " Der Freischiitz." I think

Chap. xii.
1826.

Mangerton.

A hedge-
school.

344

Wiih O'ConnelVs Brother-in-law.

Chap. xii.

1826.

Extreme
old age.

Dinner

•with the
O Connells
at Cahir.

he would, without the echo, make his fortune in
London,

At the middle of the Gap sat a forlorn, cowering
object, a woman aged 105. She is said to have survived
all her kin. She spoke Irish only. Her face all
wrinkles ; her skin like that of a dried fish. I never saw
so frightful a creature in the human form. Swift must
have seen such a one when he described his Goldrums.*

August 14th. — Took my place on an outside car — (a
Russian drosky, in fact) — a by no means inconvenient
vehicle on good roads. At five, reached the house
of Mr. M'Swiney, at Cahir. It would have been
thought forlorn in England. In Ireland, it placed the
occupier among the honoratiores. Here I found a
numerous family of O'Connells. Mrs. O'Connell an
invalid, very lady-like and agreeable. There were six
or seven other ladies, well-bred, some young and hand-
some. It was a strict fast day. The dinner, however,
was a very good one, and no mortification to me.
Salmon, trout, various vegetables, sweet puddings, pie,
cream, custards, &c., &c. There was for the invalid a
single dish of meat, of which I was invited to partake.
On arriving at the table, O'Connell knocked it with the
handle of his knife — every one put his hand to his face
— and O'Connell begged a blessing in the usual way,
adding something in an inaudible whisper. At the end
every one crossed himself. I was told that O'Connell
had not tasted food all day. He is rigid in the dis-
charge of all the formalities of his Church, but with the

* Struldbrugs. The Editor fears it is impossible to correct all H. C. R.'s
mistakes as to names.

Royal Progress to Derrynane.

345

utmost conceivable liberality towards others ; and there
is great hilarity in his ordinary manners.

After tea I was taken to the house of another con-
nection of the O'Connells, named Primrose, and there
I slept.

August i$th. — I did not rise till late. Bad weather
all day. The morning spent in writing. In the after-
noon a large dinner-party from Mr. M'Swiney's.
Before dinner was over the piper was called in. He
was treated with kind familiarity by every one. The
Irish bagpipe is a more complex instrument than the
Scotch, and the sound is less offensive. The young
people danced reels, and we did not break up till late.
O'Connell very lively — the soul of the party.

August i6t/i. — A memorable day. I never before
was of a party which travelled in a way resembling a
royal progress. A chariot for the ladies. A car for
the luggage. Some half-dozen horsemen, of whom I
was one. I was mounted on a safe old horse, and soon
forgot that I had not been on horseback three times
within the last thirty years. The natural scenery little
attractive. Bog and ocean, mountain and rock, had
ceased to be novelties. We passed a few mud huts,
with ragged women and naked urchins ; but all was
redolent of life and interest. At the door of every hut
were the inhabitants, eager to greet their landlord, for
we were now in O'Connell's territory. And their tones
and gesticulations manifested unaffected attachment.
The women have a graceful mode of salutation.
They do not courtesy, but bend their bodies forward.
They join their hands, and then, turning the palms

Chap. xir.
1826.

The Irish
piper.

yourney to
Derrynane.

O'Connelts
tenantry.

34^

A Ruiminz Court held.

Chap. xii.
1826.

Mode of
settling
disputes •
among his
tenantry.

An Irish
hut.

outward, spread them, making a sort of figure of a bell
in the air. And at the same time they utter unin-
telligible Irish sounds.

At several places parties of men were standing in
lanes. Some of these parties joined us, and accom-
panied us several miles. I was surprised by remarking
that some of the men ran by the side of O'Connell's
horse, and were vehement in their gesticulations and
loud in their talk. First one spoke, then another.
O'Connell seemed desirous of shortening their clamour
by whispering me to trot a little faster. Asking after-
wards what all this meant, I learnt from him that all
these men were his tenants, and that one of the
conditions of their holding under him was, that they
should never go to law, but submit all their disputes to
him. In fact, he was trying causes all the morning.*
We were driven into a hut by a shower. The orators
did not cease. Whether we rested under cover or
trotted forward, the eloquence went on. The hut in
which we took shelter was, I was told, of the better-
most kind. It had a sort of chimney, not a mere
hole in the roof, a long wooden seat like a garden chair,
and a recess which I did not explore. The hovels I
afterwards saw seemed to me not enviable even as
pigsties.

At the end of ten miles we entered a neat house, the

* This is worthy of note, especially for its bearing on one of the charges
brought against the agitator on the recent monster trial. He is accused of
conspiring to supersede the law of the land and its tribunals by introducing
arbitrations. I could have borne witness that he had adopted this practice
seventeen years ago, but it would have been exculpatory rather than criminat-
ing testimony. — H. C. R., 1844.

Derrynane.

ZA7

only one we saw. Before the door was the weir of
a salmon fishery. Here Mrs. O'Connell alighted, and
was placed on a pillion, as the carriage could not cross
the mountain. As the road did not suit my horseman-
ship, I preferred walking. The rest of the gentlemen
kept their horses. From the highest point was a scene,
not Alpine, but as wild as any I ever saw in Scotland.
A grand view of the ocean, with rocky islands, bays,
and promontories. The mouth of the Kenmare river
on one side, and Valentia bay and island on the other,
forming the abuttals of O'Connell's country, Derrynane.
In the centre, immediately behind a small nook of
land, with a delicious sea-beach, is the mansion of the
O'Connells — the wreck, as he remarked, of the family
fortune, which has suffered by confiscations in every
reign. The last owner, he told me, Maurice, died two
years ago, aged ninety-nine. He left the estate to his
eldest nephew, the Counsellor. The house is of plain
stone. It was humble when Maurice died, but Daniel
has already added some loftier and more spacious
rooms, wishing to render the abode more suitable to his
rank, as the great leader of the Roman Catholics.

I was delighted by his demeanour towards those who
welcomed him on his arrival. I remarked (myself un-
noticed) the eagerness with which he sprang from his
horse and kissed a toothless old woman, his nurse.

While the ladies were dressing for dinner, he took me
a short walk on the sea-shore, and led me to a penin-
sula, where were the remains of a monastery — a sacred
spot, the cemetery of the O'Connell family. He showed
me inscriptions to the memory of some of his ancestors.

Chap. xii.
1826.

A "wild

mountain

scene.

The family
mansion of

the
O' Connells.

The ceme-
tery of the
O' Conn ell
family.

348

Irish Catholics Bourbonites.

Chap. xii.
1826.

O Conneir s
legitimacy
principles.

It is recorded of the Uncle Maurice, that he lived
a long and prosperous life, rejoicing in the acquisition
of wealth as the means of raising an ancient family
from unjust depression. His loyalty to his king was
eulogized,

O'Connell has an uncle now living in France in high
favour with Charles X,, having continued with him
during his emigration. Circumstances may have radi-
calized the Counsellor, but his uncle was made by the
Revolution a violent Royalist and anti-Gallican, as their
ancestors had always been stanch Jacobites, O'Connell
remarked that, with a little management, the English
Government might have secured the Irish Catholics as
their steadiest friends — at least, said he, significantly,
" but for the Union," He represented the priests as
stanch friends to the Bourbons. They inflexibly hated
Buonaparte, and that is the chief reason why an invasion
in his day was never seriously thought of. " But," said
he, "if the present oppression of the Catholics con-
tinues, and a war should arise between France and
England, with a Bourbon on the throne, there is no
knowing what the consequences might be," *

We had an excellent dinner — the piper there, of
course, and the family chaplain. Tea at night, I slept
in a Very low old-fashioned room, which showed how

- -* I cannot help adverting to one or two late acts of O'Connell, which seem
inconsistent with his Radical professions on other occasions. His uniform
declaration in favour of Don Carlos of Spain against the Queen and her
Liberal adherents ; his violent declamations against Espartero, and the Spanish
Liberals in general; and, not long since, his abuse of the Government of Louis
Philippe, and his assertion of the right of the Pretender, the Duke of Bor-
deau.x, to the throne.— H. C. R., 1844.

O^Connell on the Reformation.

349

little the former lords of this remote district regarded
the comforts and decorations of domestic life.

August lyth. — Rain all day. I scarcely left the
house. During the day chatted occasionally with
O'Connell and various members of the family. Each
did as he liked. Some played backgammon, some
sang to music, many read. I was greatly interested in
the " Tales of the O'Hara Family."

August i8t/i. — Fortunately the weather better. I
took a walk with O'Connell. The family priest accom-
panied us, but left abruptly. In reply to something I
said, O'Connell remarked, " There can be no doubt that
there were great corruptions in our Church at the
time what you call the Reformation took place, and
a real reform did take place in our Church." On
this the priest bolted. I pointed this out to O'Connell.
" Oh," said he, " I forgot he was present, or I would
not have given offence to the good man. . . . . .

He is an excellent parish priest. His whole life is
devoted to acts of charity. He is always with the
poor."

We walked to a small fort, an intrenchment of loose
stones, called a rath, and ascribed to the Danes. He
considered it a place of refuge for the natives against
plundering pirates, Danes or Normans, who landed
and stayed but a short time, ravaging the country.

" Our next parish in that direction," said O'Connell,
pointing sea-ward, " is Newfoundland."

The eldest son, Maurice, has talents and high spirits.
He is coming to the Bar, but will do nothing there.
He is aware that he will be one dav rich. He is fit to

Chap. xit.
1826.

The family
chaplain.

Corrup-
\tions in the
Church
before the
Reforma-
tion.

Maurice
O'Connell.

3SO

Takes leave of Derrynane.

Chap. xii.
1826.

Feelings at
taking
leave.

Are
O' Connelt s
principles
justifiable f

Return to
Killarney.

yourney to
Tralee.

be the chieftain of his race. He has the fair eye which
the name O'Connell imports.

I beheve mass was performed every morning before
I rose. Nothing, however, was said to me about it.

With feehngs of great respect and thankfulness for
personal kindness, I left Derrynane between twelve and
one. I believe my host to be a perfectly sincere man.
I could not wonder at his feeling strongly the injuries
his country has sustained from the English. My fear is
that this sentiment may in the breasts of many have
degenerated into hatred. I did not conceal my decided
approbation of the Union ; on which he spoke gently.
Something having been said about insurrection, he said,
" I never allow myself to ask whether an insurrection
would be right, if it could be successful, for I am sure it
would fail." I had for my journey Maurice O'Connell's
horse, named Captain Rock. Luckily for me, he did
not partake of the qualities of his famed namesake. I
did not, however, mount till we had passed the high
ground before the fishery.

Slept at Mr. Primrose's.

August \<^th. — Returned to Killarney. A ride through
a dreary country, which wanted even the charm of
novelty.

August 2\st. — Before eight o'clock I left my friendly
landlord. I was jammed in a covered jingle, which took
us to Tralee in three hours. Cheerful companions in the
car, who were full of jokes I could not share in. The
country a wild bog-scene, with no other beauty than the
line of the Killarney hills. Tralee is the capital of
Kerry, and bears marks of prosperity. After looking

Labour Market at Kihnallock.

351

round the neighbourhood a little, I walked on to
Ardfert, where were the ruins of a cathedral. I
learned, from the intelligent Protestant family at the
inn, that book-clubs had been established, and that
efforts were being made to get up a mechanic's
institution.

August 2ird. — Having slept at Adare, I proceeded to
Limerick, the third city of Ireland. My impression not
pleasing. The cathedral seemed to me gaol-like with-
out, and squalid within. One noble street, George
Street. While at dinner I heard of a return chaise to
Bruff. My plan was at once formed, and before six I
was off.

August 2Atth. — Rose early, and at eight was on the
road towards the object of this excursion, the Baalbec
of Ireland, the town of Kilmallock, w^hich lies four
miles from Bruff. " Etiain pcricre rumcey This fan-
ciful epithet is intelligible. Though there are only two
remarkable ruins, there are numerous fragments along
the single street of the town. And the man who was
my cicerone, the constable of the place, told me that
within twenty years a large number of old buildings
had been pulled down, and the materials used for
houses. He also told me that there were in Kilmallock
fifty families who would gladly go to America, if they
had a free passage. Many could get no work, though
they would accept sixpence per day as wages. I returned
to Limerick, visiting on the way some Druidical remains
near a lake, Loughgur. During the day I chatted with
several peasant children, and found that they had
nearly all been at school. The schools, though not

Chap. xii.
1826.

Limerick.

Kilmallock,

352

Summons from King Dan.

Chap. xii.

1826.
Waterford.

Roman

Catholic

cathedral.

Roman-
Catholic
meeting.

favoured by the priests, are frequented by Catholics
as well as Protestants.

August 26th. — (At Waterford.) Waterford has the
peculiarity, that being really like a very pretty village,
it has nevertheless a long and handsome quay. Ships
of large burthen are in the river, and near are a village
church, and gentlemen's country houses. I with diffi-
culty obtained a bed at the Commercial Hotel, as a
great assemblage of Catholics was about to take place.
This I learned by accident at Limerick, and I changed
my travelling plan accordingly.

August 2yth. — (Sunday.) I rose early and strolled
into a large Catholic cathedral, where were a crowd of
the lowest of the people. There was one gentleman
in the gallery, almost concealed behind a pillar, and
seemingly fervent in his devotions. I recognized Daniel
O'Connell, my late hospitable host. He slipped away
at a side door, and I could not say a word to him, as I
wished to do. I afterwards went into the handsome
Protestant church. It is here the custom to make the
churches attractive, — not the worst feature of the
Government system, when the Protestants themselves
defray the cost ; which, however, is seldom the case.

August 2Zth. — I was called from my bed by the
waiter. " Sir, Counsellor O'Connell wants you." He
came to present me with a ticket for the forthcoming
pubLfc dinner, and refused to take the price, which was
£2. No Protestant was allowed to pay. He promised
to take me to the private committee meetings, &c.
The first general meeting was held in the chapel, which
contains some thousands, and was crowded. The

Wyse and O'Connell.

353

speeches were of the usual stamp. Mr. Wyse, Lucien
Buonaparte's son-in-law, was the first who attracted any
attention ; but O'Connell himself was the orator of the
day. He spoke with great power and effect. He is
the idol of the people, and was loudly applauded when
he entered the room, and at all the prominent parts of his
speech. His manner is colloquial, his voice very sweet,
his style varied. He seems capable of suiting his tone
to every class of persons, and to every kind of subject.
His language vehement — all but seditious. He spoke
two hours, and then there was an adjournment.*

August 2<)th. — In the forenoon I was taken by
O'Connell to the sacristy, where a committee arranged
what was to be done at the public meeting. As usual
in such cases, whatever difference of opinion there may
be is adjusted in private by the leaders. Here I
remarked that O'Connell always spoke last, and his
opinion invariably prevailed. At this meeting a sub-
scription was opened for the relief of the forty-shilling
freeholders, who had been persecuted by the landlords
for voting with the priests rather than with themselves.
I was glad to pay for my ticket in this way, and put
down £s by " a Protestant English Barrister." The
public meeting was held at half-past two. Two speeches
by priests especially pleased me. A violent and
ludicrous speech was made by a man who designated
O'Connell as "the buttress of liberty in Ireland, who
rules in the wilderness of free minds." O'Connell spoke
with no less energy and point than yesterday.

* My journal does not mention the subject; but in those days emancipation,
and not repeal, was the cry. — H. C. R.

VOL. II. A A

Chap. xii.
1826.

O' ConnelV s

Committee
meeting.

Great
public
meeting.

354

Emancipation Dinner.

Chap. xii.
1826,

Public
dinner.

Lord Fitz-
williafn.

Sir yohn
Newport.

The dinner was fixed for seven, but was not on the
table till past eight. There were present more than
200. The walls of the room were not finished ; but it
was well lighted, and ornamented with transparencies,
on which were the names Curran, Burke, Grattan, &c.
The chair was taken by O'Brien. My memory would
have said Sir Thomas Esmond. O'Gorman, by whom
I sat, was pressing that I should take wine, but I
resisted, and drew a laugh on him by calling him an
intolerant persecutor, even in matters of drink. What
must he be in religion }

The usual patriotic and popular sentiments were
given. The first personal toast was Lord Fitzwilliam,
the former Lord-Lieutenant, who had not been in
Ireland till now since he gave up his office because
he could not carry emancipation. The venerable Earl
returned thanks in a voice scarcely audible. With his
eyes fixed on the ground, and with no emphasis, he
muttered a few words about his wish to serve Ireland.
I recollected that this was the once-honoured friend of
Burke, and it was painful to behold the wreck of a
good, if not a great man. Another old man appeared
to much greater advantage, being in full possession
of his faculties — Sir John Newport ; his countenance
sharp, even somewhat quizzical. Lord Ebrington, too,
returned thanks — a fine spirited young man. The
only remarkable speech was O'Connell's, and that was
short. When the toast, " the Liberal Protestants," was
given, O'Connell introduced an Englishman, who spoke
so prosily that he was set down by acclamation. It
was after twelve, and after the magnates had retired,

H. C. R:s speech.

355

that a toast was given to which I was called upon to
respond, — " Mr. Scarlett and the Liberal members of
the English Bar," My speech was frequently inter-
rupted by applause, which was quite vociferous at the
end. This is easily accounted for, without supposing
more than very ordinary merit in the speaker. I began
by the usual apology, that I felt myself warranted
in rising, from the fact that I was the only English
Protestant barrister who had signed the late petition for
Catholic emancipation. This secured me a favourable
reception. " I now solicit permission to make a few
remarks, in the two distinct characters of Englishman
and Protestant. As an Englishman, I am well aware
that I ought not to be an object of kindness in the eyes
of an Irishman. I know that for some centuries the
relation between the two countries has been charac-
terized by the infliction of injustice and wrong on the
part of the English. If, therefore, I considered myself
the representative of my countrymen, and any indi-
vidual before me the representative of Irishmen, I
should not dare to look him in the face." (Vehement
applause.) " Sir, I own to you I do not feel flattered
by this applause. But I should have been ashamed to
utter this sentence, which might seem flattery, if I had
not meant to repeat it in another application. And I
rely on the good-nature and liberality of Irishmen to
bear with me while I make it. I am Protestant as well
as Englishman. And were I to imagine myself to be
the single Protestant, and any one before me the single
Catholic, I should expect him to hang down his head
while I looked him boldly in the face." There was an

A A 2

Chap. xii.
1826.

Speech of

H. c. /e.

356

All Sects Persecutors.

Chap. xii.

1826.

The spirit
of persecu-
tion tiot
confi7ied to
one sect.

intolerance
inherent in
Roman
Catho-
licism ?

appalling silence — not a sound, and I was glad to escape
from a dangerous position, by adding, " I am aware
that, in these frightful acts of religious zeal, the guilt
is not all on one side. And I am not one of those who
would anxiously strike a balance in the account current
of blood. Least of all would I encourage a pharisaic
memory. On the contrary', I would rather, were it pos-
sible, that, for the sake of universal charity, we should all
recollect the wrongs we have committed, and forget those
we have sustained, — but not too soon. Irishmen ought
not to forget past injustice, till injustice has entirely
ceased." I then went on to safer topics. I confessed
myself brought up an enemy to the Roman Catholic
Church, and would frankly state why I especially feared
it. " I speak with confidence, and beg to be believed
in what I know. The Catholic religion is obnoxious to
thousands in England, not because of the number of
its sacraments, or because it has retained a few more
mysteries than the Anglican acknowledges, but because
it is thought — and I own I cannot get rid of the appre-
hension— that there is in the maxims of your Church
something inconsistent with civil and religious liberty."
On this there was a cry from different parts of the
room, " That 's no longer so," — " Not so now." I then
expressed my satisfaction at the liberal sentiments I had
heard that morning from two reverend gentlemen. " Did
I think that such sentiments would be echoed were the
Roman Catholic Church not suffering, but triumphant,
— could they be published as a papal bull, I do not say
I could become altogether a member of your Church,
but it would be the object of my affection. Nay, if

A Lawyers Diimer-party.

357

such sentiments constitute your religion, then I am of
your Church, whether you will receive me or no." After
I sat down my health was given, and I had a few words
more to say. There was a transparency on the wall
representing the genius of Liberty introducing Ireland
to the Temple of British Freedom. I said, " Your
worthy artist is better versed in Church than in State
painting, for, look at the keys which Liberty holds, —
they are the keys of St. Peter!" A general laugh
confessed that I had hit the mark.

September i^th. — (Dublin.) I mention St. Patrick's
Cathedral for the sake of noticing the common blunder
in the inscribed monument to Swift. He is praised as
the friend to liberty. He was not that ; he was the
enemy of injustice. He resisted certain flagrant acts of
oppression, and tried to redress his country's wrongs,
but he never thought of the liberties of his country.

I prolonged my stay at Dublin in order to spend the
day with Cuthbert, a Protestant barrister. There dined
with him my old acquaintance, Curran, son of the
orator. His tone of conversation excellent. I will
write down a few Irish anecdotes. Lord Chancellor
Redesdale* was slow at taking a joke. In a bill case
before him, he said, "The learned counsellor talks of
flying kites. What does that mean } I recollect
flying kites when I was a boy, in England." — " Oh,
my Lord," said Plunkett, " the difference is very great.
The wipd raised those kites your Lordship speaks of —
ours raise the wind." Every one laughed but the Chan-
cellor, who did not comprehend the illustration. It was

♦ Lord Redesdale was Lord Chancellor of Ireland from 1802 to 1806.

Chap. xii.
1826.

Sw^/t.

Irish

anecdotes

358

A Ride with Sheil.

Chap. xii.
.1826.

Grattan.

A coach-
ride with
Sheil.

A vehement
priest.

Plunkett, also, who said, " If a cause were tried before
Day (the Justice), it would be tried in the dark."
Cuthbert related, in very interesting detail, a memorable
incident of which he was a witness. On the discussion
of the Union question, Grattan had obtained his elec-
tion, and came into the House while the debate was
going on. He made a famous speech, which so pro-
voked Corry, that in his reply he called Grattan a
traitor, and left the House. Grattan followed him.
They fought a duel in the presence of a crowd. And
before the speaker whom they left on his legs had
finished, Grattan returned, having shot his adversary.*

September i^th. — Though not perfectly well, I de-
termined to leave Dublin this day, and had taken my
place on the Longford stage, when I saw Sheil get
inside. I at once alighted, and paid 4^. 6d. additional
for an inside seat to Mullingar, whither I learned he was
going. It was a fortunate speculation, for he was both
communicative and friendly. We had, as companions,
a woman, who was silent, and a priest, who proved to be
a character. We talked immediately on the stirring
topics of the day. Sheil did not appear to me a pro-
found or original thinker, but he was lively and amusing.
Our priest took a leading part in the conversation. He
was a very handsome man, with most prepossessing
manners. He told us he had had the happiness to be

educated under Professor P at Salamanca. "No

one," said he, " could possibly go through a course of
study under him, without being convinced that Protes-

* The Right Honourable Isaac Corry, Chancellor of the Irish Exchequer.
Although in this duel Grattan shot his antagonist, the wound was not fatal.

A 71 Irish Prescription.

359

tantism is no Christianity, and that Roman Catholicism
is the only true religion. Any one who was not con-
vinced must be a knave, a fool, or a madman." To do
justice to Shell, he joined me in a hearty laugh at this.
And we forced the priest at last to make a sort of
apology, and acknowledge that invincible ignorance is
pardonable. I told him drily, that I was a friend to
emancipation, but if it should be proposed in Parlia-
ment, and I should be there, I should certainly move to
except from its benefits all who had studied under

Father P at Salamanca. At Mullingar, a crowd

were waiting for the orator, and received him with
cheers.

September l$th. — Proceeded to Sligo on the mail,. and
had a very pleasant companion in a clergyman, a Mr.
Dawson. He asserted anti-Catholic principles with a
mildness and liberality, and at the same time with an
address and knowledge, I have seldom witnessed. We
went over most of the theologico-political questions of
the day, and if we did not convince we did not offend
each other. Of the journey I shall say nothing, but
that I passed through one town I should wish to
see again — Boyle, lying very beautifully, with pic-
turesque ruins of an abbey. As we approached Sligo
the scenery became more wild and romantic. There I
was seriously indisposed, and Mr. Dawson recommended
me to a medical man, a Dr. Bell, a full-faced, jovial
man, who was remarkably kind. When I had opened
my case, the only answer I could get for some time
was, " You must dine with me to-day." This I refused
to do, but I promised to join the party in the evening,

Chap. xii.

1826.

Boyle.

Dr. Bell.

36o

A Supper-party.

Chap. xir.
1826.

Lord
Palmerston.

Bally-
shannon.

and was gratified by the geniality of all whom I met at
his house, and especially by his own hospitality.

September i6th. — Dr. Bell again asked me to dine with
him, but excused me on my expressing a desire to be
free. I enjoyed, however, another evening at his house,
where Mr. Dawson was the ami de la maison.

September lyth. — After a very hospitable breakfast
with Dr. Bell, availed myself of the opportunity of
proceeding on my journey in my landlord's car. I
noticed some buildings, which a very meanly dressed
man, one who in England would be supposed to belong
to the lowest class, told me were Church school build-
ings, erected by Lord Palmerston, whom he praised
as a generous landlord to the Catholic poor. He said
that, formerly, the peasants were so poor, that having
no building, a priest would come and consecrate some
temporary chapel, and then take away the altar, which
alone makes the place holy. On my expressing myself
strongly at this, the man said, in a style that quite
startled me, " I thank you, sir, for that sentiment."
At nine o'clock, we entered the romantically situated
little town of Ballyshannon. My host and driver took
me to the chief inn, but no bed was to be had. He
said, however, that he would not rest till he had lodged
me somewhere, and he succeeded admirably, for he took
me to the house of a character, — a man who, if he had
not been so merry, might have sat for a picture of
Romeo's apothecary. I had before taken a supper
with a genuine Irish party at the Inn, — an Orange
solicitor, who insolently browbeat the others ; a Papist
manager of a company of strolling players ; and a

Jollification.

361

Quaker so wet as to be — like the others — on the verge of
intoxication. I had to fight against all the endeavours
to find out who I was ; but neither they, nor the apothe-
cary, Mr. Lees, nor my former host, Mr, Boyle, knew
me, till I avowed myself. I found I could not escape
drinking a little whisky with Mr. Lees, who would
first drink with me and then talk with me. On my
saying, in the course of our conversation, that I had
been in Waterford, he sprang up and exclaimed, " May
be you are Counsellor Robinson .''" — " My name is Robin-
son." On this he lifted up his hands, " That I should
have so great a man in my house !" And I had some
difficulty in making him sit down in the presence of
the great man. Here I may say that, at Dublin, I
found a report of my speech at Waterford, in an Irish
paper, containing not a thought or sentiment I actually
uttered, but a mere series of the most vulgar and violent
commonplaces.

September 24th. — The journey to Belfast on a stage-
coach was diversified by my having as companions two
reverend gentlemen, whom I suspected to be Scotch
seceders, — amusingly, I should say instructively, igno-
rant even on points very nearly connected with their
own professional pursuits. They were good-natured, if
not liberal, and with no violent grief lamented the
heretical tendencies in the Academical Institution at
Belfast. " It has," said they, " two notorious Arians
among the professors, Montgomery and Bruce, but they
do not teach theology, and are believed honourably to
abstain from propagating heresy." Arianism, I heard,
had infected the Synod of Ulster, and the Presbytery

Chap. xii.
1826.

Irish
jollification.

Newspaper

mis-
reporting.

Stage-coach

journey to

Belfast.

The plague

of
Artanism,

362

Scotland.

Chap. xii.
1826.

Scotland.

of Antrim consists wholly of Arians. On my men-
tioning Jeremy Taylor, these two good men shook
their heads over " the Arian." I stared. " Why, sir,
you know his very unsound work on original sin ?" — " I
know that he has been thought not quite up to the
orthodox mark on that point." — " Not up to the mark !
He is the oracle of the English Presbyterians of the
last century." This was puzzling. At length, however,
the mist cleared up. They were thinking of Dr. John
Taylor, of Norwich, the ancestor of a family of my
friends. And as to Jeremy Taylor, Bishop of Down
and Connor, they had never heard of such a man. Yet
these were teachers. They were mild enemies of
emancipation, and seemed half-ashamed of being so,
for they had more fear of Arianism than of Popery.

September 26th. — Strolled on the shore of the Lough
that adjoins the town. Then began my homeward
journey, and it was not long before I landed at Port
Patrick. I was now in Scotland. That I felt, but I
had been gradually and almost unconsciously losing all
sense of being in Ireland. The squalid poverty of the
people had been vanishing ; and, though a poor ob-
server of national physiognomies, I had missed the
swarthy complexion, the black eyes, and the long
haggard faces. The signs of Romanism had worn out.
The ear was struck with the Puritan language. The
descendants of Scottish settlers under the Stuarts and
Cromwells, I have always considered as Englishmen
born in Ireland, and the northern counties as a Scotch
colony. And yet I am told that this is not the true
state of things.

A Murder Revenged.

363

September 2Zth. — At Kirkcudbright, where I took up
my quarters with my friend Mrs. Niven, at law my
ward.

October^ ist. — Mr. Niven, no slanderer of his country-
men, related to me in a few words a tale, which in
every incident makes one think how Walter Scott

would have worked it up. Sir Gordon wilfully

shot his neighbour. The man might have been cured,
but he preferred dying, that his murderer might be
hanged. The Gordon fled, and lived many years in

exile, till he was visited by a friend. Sir Maxwell,

who persuaded him that the affair was forgotten, and
that he might return. The friends travelled together to
Edinburgh, and there they attended together the public
worship of God in the kirk. In the middle of the service
the Maxwell cried aloud, " Shut all the doors, here is a
murderer !" The Gordon was seized, tried, and hanged,
and the Maxwell obtained from the crown a grant of a
castle, and the noble demesnes belonging to it. This
account was given to me while I was visiting the pic-
turesque ruins of the castle.

October ^rd. — On my way southward I passed through
Annan, the birthplace of my old acquaintance Edward
Irving.

October $th. — Went round by Keswick to Ambleside.
As I passed through Keswick, I had a chat with the
ladies of Southey's family. Miss D. Wordsworth's illness
prevented my going to Rydal Mount. But I had two
days of Wordsworth's company, and enjoyed a walk on
Loughrigg Fell. In this walk the beauty of the English
and Scotch lakes was compared with those of Killarney,

Chap. xii.
1826.

Mr. Niven.

Annan.

Keswick.

English

and Scotch

lakes

3^4

Two Days zuith Wordsworth.

Chap. xii.

1826.

compared
with those of
■ Killarney.

Words-
worth.

and the preference given to the former was accounted
for by the broken surface of the sides of the mountains,
whence arises a play of colour, ever mixed and ever
changing. The summits of the mountains round Kil-
larney are as finely diversified as could be wished,
but the sides are smooth, little broken by crags, or
clothed with herbage of various colour, though fre-
quently wooded. Wordsworth showed me the field he
has purchased, on which he means to build, should he
be compelled to leave the Mount. And he took me
over Mr. Tillbrook's knacky cottage, the " Rydal wife
trap," really a very pretty toy. He also pointed out
the beautiful spring, a description of which is to be an
introduction to a portion of his great poem, and con-
tains a poetical view of water as an element in the com-
position of our globe. The passages he read appear to
be of the very highest excellence.

October yth. — Incessant rain. I did not leave Amble-
side for Rydal till late. We had no resource but books
and conversation, of which there was no want. Poetry
the staple commodity, of course. A very pleasing
young lady was of our party to-day, as well as yester-
day, a Miss A , from Sussex. Very pretty, and very

naive and sprightly — just as young ladies should be.
The pleasure of the day is not to be measured by the
small space it occupies in my journal. Early at my inn.
A luxurious supper of sherry-negus and cranberry tart.
Read the first part of Osborne's " Advice to his Son,"
— a book Wordsworth gave to Monkhouse, and which,
therefore, I supposed to be a favourite. But I found,
on inquiry, that Wordsworth likes only detached re-

Dawson Turner.

365

marks, for Osborne is a mere counsellor of selfish pru-
dence and caution. Surely there is no need to print
— " Beware lest in trying to save your friend you get
drowned yourself ! "

October 2>th. — Wordsworth full of praises of the fine
scenery of Yorkshire. Gordale Scar (near Malham) he
declares to be one of the grandest objects in nature,
though of no great size. It has never disappointed him.

October 14th. — Reached Bury. Thus ended an enjoy-
able journey. The most remarkable circumstance at-
tending it is, that I seemed to lose that perfect health
which hitherto has accompanied me in my journeys.
But now I feel perfectly well again. Perhaps my indis-
position in Ireland may be beneficial to me, as it has
made me sensible that my health requires attention.

During my absence in Ireland, my excellent sister-
in-law died. I cannot write of her at length here. The
letter respecting her death was missent, and did not
reach me till about a week after it was written. My
sister was a most estimable woman, with a warm heart,
great vivacity of feeling as well as high spirits, great
integrity of character, and a verj' strong understanding.

October 26th. — (At Mr. Dawson Turner's, Yarmouth.)
I was summoned to breakfast . at eight ; and was
delighted to find myself at nine treated with genuine
hospitality and kindness, for I was left to myself Mr.
Turner's family consists of two married daughters, —
Mrs. Hooker, wife of the traveller to Iceland, and now a
professor at Glasgow, a great botanist and naturalist,
and Mrs. Palgrave, wife of the ex-Jew Cohen,* now

• See p. 272.

Chap. xir.
1826.

Bury,

Snter-in-
la'dj's death

Mr.
Dawson
Turner's

266

Dawson Turner's House.

Chap. xii.
1826.

A visit to

Mr.
Dawson
Turner.

Mr. D.

Turner s

autographs.

bearing the name of Mrs. Turner's father, and four
unmarried daughters, all very interesting and accom-
plished young women, full of talent, which has left their
personal attractions unimpaired. He has two sons —
the youngest only at home, a nice boy. At the head of
these is a mother worthy of such children. She, too, is
accomplished, and has etched many engravings, which
were published in Mr. Turner's " Tour in Normandy,"
and many heads, some half-dozen of which he gave me,
or rather I took, he offering me as many as I chose.
The moment breakfast was over, Mr. Turner went to
the bank, Mrs. Turner to her writing-desk, and every
one of the young ladies to drawing, or some other
tasteful occupation, and I was as much disregarded as
if I were nobody. In the adjoining room, the library,
was a fire, and before breakfast Mr. Turner had said
to me, " You will find on that table pen, ink, and
paper." Without a word more being said I took
the hint, and went into that apartment as my own.
And there I spent the greater part of the time
of my visit. I took a short walk with Mr. Turner
— the weather did not allow of a long one. We
had a small party at dinner — Mr. Brightwell, Mr.
Worship, &c. A very lively evening. I sat up late in
my bedroom.

October 2'jth. — Mr. Turner is famous for his collection
of autographs, of which he has nearly twenty thick quarto
volumes, consisting of letters, for the greater part, of
distinguished persons of every class and description.
But these form by far the smallest portion of his riches
in MSS. He has purchased several large collections,

His AiitograpJis.

367

and obtained from friends very copious and varied con-
tributions. Every one who sees such a collection is
desirous of contributing to it. Some are of great
antiquity and curiosity. I was not a little flattered
when Mr. Turner, having opened a closet, and pointed
out to me some remarkable volumes, gave me the
key, with directions not to leave the closet open. He
had before shown me several volumes of his private
correspondence, with an intimation that they were
literary letters, which might be shown to all the world,
and that I might read everything I saw. I began to
look over the printed antiquarian works on Ireland, but
finding so many MSS. at my command, I confined
myself to them. I read to-day a most melancholy
volume of letters by Cowper, the poet, giving a par-
ticular account of his sufferings, his dreams, &c., all
turning on one idea — the assurance that he would be
damned. In one he relates that he thought he was being
dragged to hell, and that he was desirous of taking a
memorial to comfort him. He seized the knocker of the
door, but recollecting that it would melt in the flames,
and so add to his torments, he threw it down ! His
correspondent was in the habit of communicating to
him the answers from God which he received to his
prayers for Cowper, which answers were all promises of
mercy. These Cowper did not disbelieve, and yet they
did not comfort him.

October 2S>th. — I must not forget that the elder Miss
Turner, a very interesting girl, perhaps twenty-five, is a
German student. By no means the least pleasant part
of my time was that which I spent every day in hearing

Chap. xir.
1826.

Cotvper's
letters.

368

Inspired and Uninspired Texts.

Chap. xii.

1826.

Mr. D.

Turner s

collection of

MSS.

Yarmouth
Church.

Worldly
texts.

her read, and in reading to her passages from Goethe
and Schiller.

The only letters I had time to look over among the
Macro papers, purchased by Mr. Turner, including those
of Sir Henry Spelman, were a collection of letters to
Dr. Steward, the former preacher at the Church Gate
Street Meeting, Bury. These were all from Dissenting
ministers, about whom I was able to communicate some
information to Mr. Turner. Dr. Steward lived once in
Dublin, and the letters give an interesting account of
the state of religious parties in Ireland, circa 1750-60.
The Lord-Lieutenant then favoured the New Light
party, i.e., the Arians. These few letters engrossed my
attention. I could not calculate the time requisite for
reading the whole collection.

October 2gtk. — (Sunday.) I accompanied the family
to the large, rambling, one-sided church, which is still
interesting. Unpleasant thoughts suggested by a verse
from Proverbs, read by the preacher, — " He that is
surety for a stranger shall smart for it ; but he that
hateth suretyship is safe." It is remarkable that no
enemy to revealed religion has attacked it by means
of a novel or poem, in which mean and detestable
characters are made to justify themselves by precepts
found in the Bible. A work of that kind would be
insidious, and not the less effective because a super-
ficial objection. But some share of the reproach should
fall on the theologians who neglect to discriminate
between the spiritual or inspired, and the unspiritual
or uninspired parts of the sacred writings. The worldly
wisdom of the above text is not to be disputed, and if

Macaulay.

369

found in the works of a Franklin, unobjectionable — for
he was the philosopher of prudence ; but it is to be
regretted that such a lesson should be taught us as
"the Word of God." I could not help whispering to
Dawson Turner, " Is this the Word of God ?" He
replied, " All bankers think so."

October 2)Oth. — A pleasant forenoon like the rest.
After an early dinner, left my hospitable host and
hostess. This house is the most agreeable I ever
visited. No visit would be unpleasantly long there.

November 2<^th. — At home over books. An hour at
the Temple Library helping Gordon in lettering some
German books. At four I went to James Stephen, and
drove down with him to his house at Hendon. A
dinner-party. I had a most interesting companion in
young Macaulay, one of the most promising of the
rising generation I have seen for a long time. He is
the author of several much admired articles in the
Edinburgh Review. A review of Milton's lately dis-
covered work on Christian Doctrine, and of his political
and poetical character, is by him. I prefer the political
to the critical remarks. In a paper of his on the new
London University, his low estimate of the advantages of
our University education, i.e. at Oxford and Cambridge,
is remarkable in one who is himself so much indebted
to University training. He has a good face, — not the
delicate features of a man of genius and sensibility, but
the strong lines and well-knit limbs of a man sturdy
in body and mind. Very eloquent and cheerful. Over-
flowing with words, and not poor in thought. Liberal
in opinion, but no radical. He seems a correct as well

VOL. II. B B

Chap. xii.
1826.

Mr. and

Mrs.

Turner's

hospitality.

Macaulay.

Estimate of
Macaulay.

370

Death of Flaxman.

Chap. xii.

1826.
Flaxman.

Mr. {after-
wards Sir
y.) Soane.

Death of
Flaxman.

Blake on

Flaxman s

death.

as a full man. He showed a minute knowledge of sub-
jects not introduced by himself

December 4.th. — Dined at Flaxman's. He had a cold,
and was not at all fit for company. Therefore our party
broke up early. At his age every attack of disease is
alarming. Among those present were the Miss Tulks,
sisters of the late M.P. for Sudbury, and Mr. Soane,
architect and R.A. He is an old man, and is suffering
under a loss of sight, though he is not yet blind. He
talked about the New Law Courts,* and with warmth
abused them. He repudiates them as his work, being
constrained by orders. We had a discussion on the
merits of St. Margaret's Church, Westminster, he con-
tending that, even in its present situation, it heightens
instead of diminishing the effect of the Abbey.

December yth. — I was alarmed yesterday by the ac-
count I received when I called at Flaxman's. This
morning I sent to inquire, and my messenger brought
the melancholy intelligence that Flaxman died early in
the morning ! The country has lost one of its greatest
and best men. As an artist, he has done more than any
other man of the age to spread her fame ; as a man,
he exhibited a rare specimen of moral and Christian
excellence.

I walked out, and called at Mr. Soane's. He was
not at home. I then went to Blake's. He received the
intelligence much as I expected. He had himself been
very ill during the summer, and his first observation
was, with a smile, " I thought I should have gone first."
He then said, " I cannot consider death as anything but

* The Courts at Westminster, then just built by Mr. Soane.

Blake. — Flaxmans Funeral.

371

a going from one room to another." By degrees he fell
into his wild rambling way of talk. " Men are born
with a devil and an angel," but this he himself inter-
preted body and soul. Of the Old Testament he
seemed to think not favourably. Christ, said he, took
much after his mother, the Law. On my asking for an
explanation, he referred to the turning the money-
changers out of the . temple. He then declared against
those who sit in judgment on others. " I have never
known a very bad man who had not something very
good about him." He spoke of the Atonement, and
said, " It is a horrible doctrine ! If another man pay
your debt, I do not forgive it." .... He produced
'' Sintram," by Fouque, and said, " This is better than
my things."

December i$th. — The funeral of Flaxman. I rode to
the house with Thompson, R.A., from Somerset House.
Thompson spoke of Flaxman with great warmth. He
said so great a man in the arts had not lived for
centuries, and probably for centuries there would not be
such another. He is so much above the age and his
country, that his merits have never been appreciated.
He made a design (said Thompson) for a monument
for Pitt, in Westminster Abbey — one of the grandest
designs ever composed, far beyond anything imagined
by Canova. But this work, through intrigue, was taken
from him, and the monument to Nelson given him
instead, — a work not to his taste, and in which he took
no pleasure. Yet his genius was so universal that there
is no passion which he has not perfectly expressed.
Thompson allowed that Flaxman's execution was not

B B 2

Chap. xir.
1826.

Flaxman s
funeral.

Zl^

Flaxman Gallery.

Chap. xii.
1826.

Flaxman s
funeral.

equal to his invention, more from want of inclination
than of power. Perhaps there was a want of power in
his wrist* On arriving at Flaxman's house, in Buck-
ingham Street, we found Sir Thomas Lawrence and five
others, who, with Mr. Thompson and Flaxman himself,
constituted the council of the year. The five were
Phillips, Howard, Shee, Jones, and one whose name I
do not recollect. Two Mr. Denmans \ and two Mr.
Mathers were present, and Mr. Tulk and Mr. Hart. I
sat in the same carriage with Sir Thomas Lawrence,
Mr. Hart, and Mr. Tulk ; and Sir Thomas spoke with
great affection and admiration of Flaxman, as of a
man who had not left, and had not had, his equal.
The interment took place in the burial-ground of St.
Giles-in-the-Fields, near the old St. Pancras Church.
Speaking of Michael Angelo, Sir Thomas represented
him as far greater than Raphael.

Reni.\ — Let me add now, though I will not enlarge
on what is not yet completed, that I have for several
years past been employed in fixing within the walls
of University College all the casts of Flaxman, — the
single act of my life which, to all appearance, will leave
sensible and recognizable consequences after my death.

December I'jth. — Dined at Bakewell's, at Hampstead.

A Mr. M there, a Genevese curate, expelled from

his curacy by the Bishop of Friburg. No trial or any
proceeding whatever. This is arbitrary enough. Yet
M being ultra in his opinions, one cannot deem the

* Very lately Charles Stokes, the executor of Chantrey, told me that
Chantrey expressed the same opinion. — H. C. R., 1851.
f Mrs. Flaxman was a Miss Denman. ;J; Written in 1851.

Sir John Soane. — Rolfe.

373

act of despotism very flagrant. The oppression of
mere removal from clerical functions, when the person
is not a believer, does not excite much resentment.

M predicts with confidence a bloody war, ending in

the triumph of liberal principles.

Rem.* — After twenty-five years I may quote a couplet
from Dryden's "Virgil" : —

' ' Tlie gods gave ear, and granted half his prayer,
The rest the winds dispersed in empty air."

December \Zth. — Called upon Soane, the architect,
whom I met at Flaxman's. His house -f is a little
museum, almost unpleasantly full of curiosities. Every
passage as full as it could be stuck with antiques or
casts of sculpture, with paintings, including several of
the most famous Hogarths — the " Election," &c. The
windows are of painted glass, some antiques. There
are designs, plans, and models of famous architectural
works. A model of Herculaneum, since the excavations,
is among the most remarkable. A consciousness of my
having no safe judgment in such matters lessens the
pleasure they would give me. He complained of the
taking down of the double balustrade of the Treasury.
I own I thought it very grand. " According to the
original plan of the Courts, all the conveniences required
by the profession would," he says, " have been afforded."

December 20th. — A morning of calls, and those agree-
able. First with Rolfe, who unites more business
talents with literary tastes than any other of my ac-
quaintance. Later, a long chat with Storks, and a walk
with him. He now encourages my inclination to leave

* Written in 1851. f ^'ow the Soane Mxiseum, Lincoln's Inn Fields.

Chap. xii.
1826.

Soane s
house.

Sir John

Soane' s

Museum.

Rolfe.

Storks.

374

Dr. Dibdin.

Chap. xii.
1826.

Benecke.

Dr. Dibdin.

Curious
books.

the Bar. His own feelings are less favourable to the
profession, and he sees that there may be active em-
ployment without the earning of money, or thoughts
of it.

December 21st. — A call from Benecke. We began an
interesting conversation on religion, and have appointed
a time for a long and serious talk on the subject. I
am deeply prepossessed in favour of everything that
Benecke says. He is an original thinker, pious, and
with no prejudices. Dined with Mr. Payne, and spent
an agreeable afternoon. Dr. Dibdin and Mr. D'Arblay
(son of the famous authoress of " Cecilia") were there.
Dibdin exceedingly gay, too boyish in his laugh for a
D.D., but I should judge kind-hearted.

December 2nd. — An interesting morning. By invita-
tion from Dr. Dibdin,* I went to Lord Spencer's, where
were several other persons, and Dibdin exhibited to us
his lordship's most curious books. I felt myself by no
means qualified to appreciate the worth of such a col-
lection. A very rich man cannot be reproached for
spending thousands in bringing together the earliest
printed copies of the Bible, of Homer, Virgil, Livy,
&c., &c. Some of the copies are a most beautiful
monument of the art of printing, as well as of paper-
making. It is remarkable that the art arose at once to
near perfection. At Dresden, we see the same imme-
diate excellence in pottery. My attention was drawn
to the famous Boccaccio, sold at the Roxburgh sale
(in my presence) to the Duke of Marlborough, for

* Dr. Dibdin was employed by Lord Spencer to write an account of the
rare books in his libraries.

Necessity and Free-will.

375

£2,66^, and, on the sale of the Duke's effects, purchased
by Lord Spencer for (if I am not mistaken) £<^iS.

December 2/^th. — After breakfast I walked down to
Mr. Benecke's, with whom I had a very long and inte-
resting religious conversation. He is a remarkable man,
very religious, with a strong tendency to what is called
enthusiasm, and perfectly liberal in his feeling. The
peculiar doctrine of Christianity, he says, is the fall of
man, of which Paganism has no trace. The nature of
that fall is beautifully indicated in the allegory at the
beginning of the book of Genesis. The garden of
Eden represents that prior and happier state in which
all men were, and in which they sinned. Men come
into this world with the character impressed on them
in their prior state, and all their acts arise out of that
character. There is therefore, in the doctrine of neces-
sity, so much truth as this — all actions are the inevitable
effect of external operations on the mind in a given
state, that state having sprung necessarily out of the
character brought into this world.' Christianity shows
how man is to be redeemed from this fallen condition.
Evil cannot be ascribed to God, who is the author of
good. It could only spring out of the abuse of free-
will in that prior state, which does not continue to
exist.

To this I objected that the difficulties of the neces-
sarian doctrine are only pushed back, not removed, by
this view. In the prior state, there is this inextricable
dilemma. If the free-will were in quality and in
quantity the same in all, then it remains to be explained
how the same cause produces different effects. But if

Chap. xii.

1826.

Talk with

Benecke on

religion.

Necessity
and free-
will.

376

Conflict of English aiid Scotch Lazv.

Chap. xii.
1826.

Prim Hive
powers in-
explicable.

Mrs.
Vardill.

the quality or the quantity of the power called free-will
be unequal, then the diversity in the act or effect may
be ascribed to the primitive diversity in the attribute.
In that case, however, the individual is not responsible,
for he did not create himself, or give himself that power
or attribute of free-will.

Rem.* — To this I would add, after twenty-five years,
that the essential character of free-will places it beyond
the power of being explained. We have no right to
require that we should understand or explain any
primitive or originating power — call it God or free-will.
It is enough that we imist believe it, whether we will or
no ; and we must disclaim all power of explanation.

During this year I was made executor to a Mrs.
Vardill — a character. She was the widow of a clergy-
man, an American Loyalist, a friend of old General
Franklin. The will had this singular devise in it, that
Mrs. Vardill left the residue of her estate, real and
personal, to accumulate till her daughter, Mrs. Niven,
was fifty-two years 'of age. I mention this will, how-
ever, to refer to one of the most remarkable and
interesting law cases which our courts of law have
witnessed since the union of England and Scotland.
The litigation arose not out of the will, but out of a
pending suit, to take from her property in her possession.
The question was, whether a child legitimated in Scot-
land by the marriage (after his birth) of his father and
mother can inherit lands in England } The case (Birt-
whistle V. Vardill) was tried at York, and afterwards
argued on two occasions before the Lords. Scotch

* Written in 1851.

Legitimation by subseqiieiit Marriage.

Z77

lawyers held that such a child was in every respect
entitled to inherit his father's estate in England. But,
happily for my friend, the English lawyers were almost
unanimously of the opposite opinion.

Concluded the year at Ayrton's. We made an awk-
ward attempt at games, in which the English do not
succeed — acting words as rhymes to a given word, and
finding out likenesses from which an undeclared word
was to be guessed. We stayed till after twelve, when
Mrs. Ayrton made us all walk upstairs through her
bedroom for good luck. On coming home, I was
alarmed by a note from Cuthbert Relph, saying, " Our
excellent friend Anthony Robinson is lying alarmingly
ill at his house in Hatton Garden."

Chap. xh.

1826.

End of the
year.

378

Anthony Robinson's Death.

Chap. xiii.
1827.

Anthony
Robtnson.

CHAPTER XIII.
1827.

Rem.^ — The old year closed with a melancholy
announcement, which was verified in the course of the
first month. On the 20th of January died my ex-
cellent friend, Anthony Robinson, one of those who
have had the greatest influence on my character.
During his last illness I was attending the Quarter
Sessions, but left Bury before they closed, as I was
informed that my dying friend declared he should not
die happy without seeing me. I spent nearly all the
day preceding his death at Hatton Garden. He was in
the full possession of his faculties, and able to make
some judicious alterations in his will. On the 20th he
was altogether exhausted — able to say to me, " God
bless you !" but no more. I contributed an article,
containing a sketch of my friend's character, to the
Monthly Repository.^

January 2'jth. — The day of the burial of my old
dear friend Anthony Robinson, which took place in a
vault of the Worship Street General Baptist Meeting
Yard.

* Written in 1851.

f Vol. I. New Series, p. 288. Sec Vol. I. of the present work, p. 358.

Blake.

379

February 2nd. — Gotzenberger, the young painter
from Germany, called, and I accompanied him to
Blake.* We looked over Blake's Dante, Gotzen-
berger was highly gratified by the designs. I was
interpreter between them. Blake seemed gratified by
the visit, but said nothing remarkable.

Rem.^ — It was on this occasion that I saw Blake for
the last time. He died on the I2th of August. His
genius as an artist was praised by Flaxman and Fuseli,
and his poems excited great interest in Wordsworth.
His theosophic dreams bore a close resemblance to
those of Swedenborg. I have already referred to an
article written by me, on Blake, for the Hamburg
" Patriotic Annals." | My interest in this remarkable
man was first excited in 1806. Dr. Malkin, our Bury
grammar-school head-master, published in that year a
memoir of a very precocious child, who died. An
engraving of a portrait of him, by Blake, was prefixed.
Dr. Malkin gave an account of Blake, as a painter and
poet, and of his visions, and added some specimens of
his poems, including the " Tiger." I will now gather
together a few stray recollections. When, in 18 10, I
gave Lamb a copy of the Catalogue of the paintings ex-
hibited in Carnaby Street, he was delighted, especially
with the description of a painting afterwards engraved,
and connected with which there was a circumstance
which, unexplained, might reflect discredit on a most
excellent and amiable man. It was after the friends

• Gotzenberger was one of the pupils of Cornelius, who assisted him in
painting the frescoes, emblematical of Theology, Philosophy, Jurisprudence,
and Medicine, in the Aula of the University of Bonn.

t Written in 1852. J Vol I., p. 299.

Chap. xih.

1827.

Gotzen-
berger at
Blake's.

Last visit
to Blake.

380 Canterbury Pilgrimage by Blake and Stothard.

Chap. xiii.
1827.

The Can-
terbury
Pilgrims.

Blake' s

remarks on

himself.

Hazlitt on
Blake.

of Blake had circulated a subscription paper for an
engraving of his " Canterbury Pilgrims," that Stothard
was made a party to an engraving of a painting of the
same subject, by himself* But Flaxman considered this
as not done wilfully. Stothard's work is well known ;
Blake's is known by very few. Lamb preferred the
latter greatly, and declared that Blake's description
was the finest criticism he had ever read of Chaucer's
poem. In the Catalogue, Blake writes of himself with
the utmost freedom. He says, "This artist defies all
competition in colouring," — that none can beat him, for
none can beat the Holy Ghost, — that he, and Michael
Angelo and Raphael, were under Divine influence,
while Correggio and Titian worshipped a lascivious
and therefore cruel Deity, and Rubens a proud Devil,
&c. Speaking of colour, he declared the men of Titian
to be of leather, and his women of chalk, and ascribed
his own perfection in colouring to the advantage he
enjoyed in seeing daily the primitive men walking in
their native nakedness in the mountains of Wales.
There were about thirty oil paintings, the colouring
excessively dark and high, and the veins black. The
hue of the primitive men was very like that of the
Red Indians. Many of his designs were unconscious imi-
tations. He illustrated Blair's " Grave," the " Book of
Job," and four books of Young's "Night Thoughts." The
last I once showed to William Hazlitt. In the designs
he saw no merit ; but when I read him some of Blake's
poems he was much struck, and expressed himself

* For an account of this matter, see Gilchrist's " Life of Blake," Vol. I.
pp. 203-209.

Blake's Notes on Wordsworth.

381

with his usual strength and singularity. "They are
beautiful," he said, "and only too deep for the vulgar.
As to God, a worm is as worthy as any other object,
all alike being to him indifferent, so to Blake the
chimney-sweeper, &c. He is ruined by vain struggles
to get rid of what presses on his brain ; he attempts
impossibilities." I added, " He is like a man who lifts
a burthen too heavy for him ; he bears it an instant —
it then falls and crushes him."

I lent Blake the 8vo edition, 2 vols., of Wordsworth's
poems, which he had in his possession at the time of his
death. They were sent me then. I did not at first
recognize the pencil notes as his, and was on the point
of rubbing them out when I made the discovery. In
the fly-leaf. Vol. I., under the words Poems referrijig to
the Period of Childhood, the following is written : — " I
see in Wordsworth the natural man rising up against
the spiritual man continually ; and then he is no poet,
but a heathen philosopher, at enmity with all true
poetry or inspiration." On the lines

" And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety,"

he wrote, " There is no such thing as natural piety,
because the natural man is at enmity with God." On
the verses, " To H. C, Six Years Old " (p. 43), the
comment is, " This is all in the highest degree imagina-
tive, and equal to any poet — but not superior. I can-
not think that real poets have any competition. None
are greatest in the kingdom of heaven. It is so in
poetry." At the bottom of page 44, " On the Influence
of Natural Objects," is written, " Natural objects always

Chap. xiii.
1827.

Blake's
notes on
Words-
worth.

382

Imagination the Divine Vision.

Chap. xiii. did and now do weaken, deaden, and obliterate imagi-

1827. nation in me. Wordsworth must know that what he

writes valuable is not to be found in nature. Read

Michael Angelo's Sonnet, Vol. II. p. 179." That is, the

one beginning —

" No mortal object did these eyes behold,
When first they met the lucid light of thine."

It is remarkable that Blake, whose judgments were
in most points so very singular, should nevertheless,
on one subject closely connected with Wordsworth's
poetical reputation, have taken a very commonplace
view. Over the heading of the " Essay Supplementary
to the Preface," at the end of the volume, he wrote :
" I do not know who wrote these Prefaces. They are
very mischievous, and directly contrary to Words-
worth's own practice" (p. 341). This Preface is not
the defence of his own style, in opposition to what
is called poetic diction, but a sort of historic vindication
of the unpopular poets. On Macpherson (p. 364)
Wordsworth wrote with the severity with which all
great writers have written of him. Blake's comment
was : " I believe both Macpherson and Chatterton,
that what they say is ancient is so." And at the end
of the essay he wrote : " It appears to me as if the
last paragraph, beginning ' Is it the right of the whole,
&c.,' was written by another hand and mind from the
rest of these Prefaces. They give the opinions of a
[word effaced] landscape painter. Imagination is the
divine vision, not of the world, nor of man, nor from
man as he is a natural man, but only as he is a spiritual
man. Imagination has nothing to do with memory."

Mrs. Blake.

383

A few months after Blake's death, Barron Field and
I called on Mrs. Blake. The poor old lady was more
affected than I expected she would be at the sight of
me. She spoke of her husband as dying like an angel.
She informed us that she was going to live with Linnell
as his housekeeper. She herself died within a few
years. She seemed to be the very woman to make
her husband happy. She had been formed by him.
Indeed, otherwise, she could not have lived with him.
Notwithstanding her dress, which was poor and dingy,
she had a good expression on her countenance, and
with a dark eye, the remains of youthful beauty. She
had the wife's virtue of virtues — an implicit reverence
for her husband. It is quite certain that she believed
in all his visions. On one occasion, speaking of his
visions, she said, " You know, dear, the first time you
saw God was when you were four years old, and he
put his head to the window, and set you a-screaming."
In a word, she was formed on the Miltonic model,
and, like the first wife. Eve, worshipped God in her
husband.*

" He for God only, she for God in him."

February 2^th. — Went to J affray's, with whom I
dined and spent an agreeable evening. I read to them
Dryden's translation of Lucretius on the fear of
death, which gave them great pleasure. It was quite a
gratification to have excited so much pleasure. Indeed,
this is one of the masterpieces of English transla-
tion, and, next to Christian hopes, the most delight-

• For a full account of Blake's works, as well as his life, see Gilchrist's
"Life of William Blake," 2 vols. Macmillan & Co., 1863.

Chap. xiii.

1827.

Blake's
■wife.

Dryden's
Lucretius,

384

Thomas Belslmm.

Chap. xiii.

1827.

Cannifig.

Thomas
Belsham.

ful and consolatory contemplation of the unknown
world.*

August Ml. — News arrived of the death of Canning,
an event that renders quite uncertain the policy and
government of the country, and may involve it in
ruinous calamities. How insignificant such an occurrence
renders the petty triumphs and mortifications of our
miserable circuit !

September ?>th. — (At Brighton.) Raymond took me
to call on the venerable, infirm. Unitarian minister,
Thomas Belsham. He received me with great cor-
diality, as if I had been an old friend. We talked
of old times, and the old gentleman was delighted
to speak of his juvenile years, when he was the
fellow-student of my uncle Crabb and Mr. Fenner.
He spoke also of Anthony Robinson with respect.
Belsham retains, as usual, a strong recollection of the
affairs of his youth, but he is now fast declining. It
was gratifying to observe so much cheerfulness in these,
perhaps, last months of his existence. I am very glad
I called on him.-|-

C. Lamb to H. C. R.

Chase Side,

Oct. 1st, 1827.
Dear R.,

I am settled for life, I hope, at Enfield. I have

taken the prettiest, compact est house I ever saw, near

to Anthony Robinson's, but, alas ! at the expense of

* This translation was a great favourite with H. C. R., who read it aloud
to many of his friends,
f Rev. T. Belsham died in 1829.

Lamb at Enfield.

38s

poor Mary, who was taken ill of her old complaint the
night before we got into it. So I must suspend the
pleasure I expected in the surprise you would have had
in coming down and finding us householders.

Farewell ! till we can all meet comfortable. Pray
apprise Martin Burney. Him I longed to have seen
with you, but our house is too small to meet either of
you without Iter knowledge.

God bless you !

C. Lamb.

October 2'jth. — Dined with Mr. Naylor. A very
agreeable party. A Mr. Hamilton, a Scotch bookseller,
from Paternoster Row, there ; he had all the charac-
teristic good qualities of his country — good sense,
integrity, and cheerfulness, with manners mild and
conciliating. He enjoyed a bon mot, and laughed
heartily ; therefore, according to Lamb, a licsiis naturce.
He was the publisher of Irving's first work, and spoke
of him with moderation and respect. We told stories
of repartees. By-the-by, Mr. Brass, a clergyman of
Trinity College, Cambridge, says that he heard Dr.
Parr say to Barker, who had teased him on one occa-
sion, " Sir, you are a young man ; you have read much,
thought little, and know nothing at all."

December 26th. — Having heard from Charles Lamb
that his sister was again well, I lost no time in going to
see them. And accordingly, as soon as breakfast was
over, I walked into the City, took the stage to Edmon-
ton, and walked thence to Enfield. I found them in
their new house — a small but comfortable place, and

VOL. II. c c

Chap. xiii.
1827.

Dinner at

Mr.
Naylor s.

The Lambs
at Enfield.

386

Lamb.

Chap. xiii.
1827.

Charles Lamb quite delighted with his retirement. He
fears not the solitude of the situation, though he seems
to be almost without an acquaintance, and dreads rather
than seeks visitors. We called on Mrs. Robinson, who
lives opposite ; she was not at home, but came over in
the evening, and made a fourth in a rubber of whist.
I took a bed at the near public-house.

December 2'jth. — I breakfasted with the Lambs, and
they then accompanied me on my way through the
Green Lanes. I had an agreeable walk home, reading
on the way Roper's " Life of Sir T. More." Not by
any means to be compared with Cavendish's " Wolsey,"
but still interesting from its simplicity.

Recollections of Mrs. Siddons.

387

CHAPTER XIV.

1828.

February yth, Rem* — I read one of the most worth-
less books of biography in existence — Boaden's
"Life of Mrs. Siddons." Yet it gave me very great
pleasure. Indeed, scarcely any of the finest passages
in " Macbeth," or " Henry VIII.," or " Hamlet," could
delight me so much as such a sentence as, " This
evening Mrs. Siddons performed. Lady Macbeth, or
Queen Katharine, or the Queen Mother," for these
names operated on me then as they do now, in recalling
the yet unfaded image of that most marvellous woman,
to think of whom is now a greater enjoyment than to
see any other actress. This is the reason why so many
bad books give pleasure, and in biography more than in
any other class.

March 2nd. — Read the second act of " Prometheus,"
which raised my opinion very much of Shelley as a
poet, and improved it in all respects. No man, who was
not a fanatic, had ever more natural piety than he, and
his supposed Atheism is a mere metaphysical crotchet,
in which he was kept by the affected scorn and real
malignity of dunces.

* Written in 1852.

Chap. xiv.
1828.

Mrs.
Siddons.

Shelley's
Prometheus.

C C 2

388

Repeal of Test Act.

Chap. xiv.
1828.

A walk to
Lamb' 5.

Test and

Corporation

Acts.

French law
against
seditious
articles.

April ^th. — (Good Friday.) I hope not ill-spent ; it
was certainly enjoyed by me. As soon as breakfast
was over, I set out on a walk to Lamb's, whom I
reached in three and a quarter hours — at one. I was
interested in the perusal of the " Profession de Foi
d'tin Cure Savoyard!' The first division is unexcep-
tionable. His system of natural religion is delightful,
even fascinating ; his metaphysics quite reconcilabla
with the scholastic philosophy of the Germans. At
Lamb's I found Moxon and Miss Kelly, who is an un-
affected, sensible, clear-headed, warm-hearted woman.
We talked about the French theatre, and dramatic
matters in general. Mary Lamb and Charles were
glad to have a dummy rubber, and also piquet with
me.

April i()th. — Went for a few minutes into the Court,
but I had nothing to do. Should have gone to Bury,
but for the spending a few hours with Mrs. Wordsworth.
I had last night the pleasure of reading the debate in
the Lords on the repeal of the Corporation and Test
Acts.* No one but Lord Eldon, of any note, appeared
as a non-content, and the Archbishop of York, and the
Bishops of Chester (Blomfield), Lincoln (Kay), and
Durham (Van Mildert), all spoke in favour of the
measure, as well as the prime minister, the Duke of
Wellington. At the same time, the French Ministry
were introducing laws in favour of the liberty of the
press. The censorship and the law of tendency (by

* These Acts required that all persons taking any office under Government
should receive the Lord's Supper, according to the usage of the Church of
England, within three months of their appointment.

A Present from Goetlie.

389

which not particular libels might be the object of
prosecution, but the tendency of a great number of
articles, within six months), and the restriction of the
right to publish journals, were all given up. These are
to me all matters of heartfelt joy.

April 22nd. — Was highly gratified by receiving from
Goethe a present of two pairs of medals, of himself
and the Duke and Duchess of Weimar. Within one
of the cases is an autographic inscription : " Herrn
Robhison zu frenndlichein Gedenken von W. Goethe.
Mdrz, 1828." (To Mr. Robinson, for friendly remem-
brance, from W. Goethe, &c.) This I deem a high

honour.

H. C. R. TO Goethe.

3, King's Bench Walk, Temple ^
^ist January, 1829.

I avail myself of the polite offer of Mr. Des
Voeux, to forward to you a late acknowledgment of
the high honour you conferred on me last year. I had,
indeed, supplied myself with a cast, and with every
engraving and medallion that I had heard of; still the
case you have presented me with is a present very
acceptable as well as most flattering. The delay of the
acknowledgment you will impute to any cause rather
than the want of a due sense of the obligation.

Twenty-four years have elapsed since I exchanged
the study of German literature for the pursuits of an
active life, and a busy but uncongenial profession — the
law. During all this time your works have been the
constant objects of my affectionate admiration, and the
medium by which I have kept alive my early love of

Chap. xiv.
1828.

Goethe.

H. C. R. to
Goethe.

390

Letter to Goethe.

Chap. xiv.

1828.

German poetry. The slow progress they have till
lately been making among my countrymen has been
a source of unavailing regret. Taylor's " Iphigenia in
Tauris," as it was the first, so it remains the best,
version of any of your larger poems.

Recently Des Vceux and Carlyle have brought other
of your greater works before our public, — and with love
and zeal and industry combined, I trust they will yet
succeed in effectually redeeming rather our literature
than yojir name from the disgrace of such publications
as Holcroft's " Hermann and Dorothea," Lord Leveson
Gower's "Faustus," and a catch-penny book from the
French, ludicrous in every page, not excepting the title
— " The Life of Goethe."

I perceive, from your " Kiinst tmd Alterthwn" that
you are not altogether regardless of the progress which
your works are making in foreign countries. Yet I
do not find any notice of the splendid fragments
from "Faust" by Shelley, Lord Byron's friend, a man
of unquestionable genius, the perverse misdirection of
whose powers and early death are alike lamentable.
Coleridge, too, the only living poet of acknowledged
genius, who is also a good German scholar, attempted
" Faust," but shrunk from it in despair. Such an aban-
donment, and such a performance as we have had, force
to one's recollection the line, —

" For fools rush in where angels fear to tread."

As you seem not unacquainted even with our periodical
works, you perhaps know that the most noted of our
Reviews has on a sudden become a loud eulogist.

It was understood, last year, that Herr von Goethe,

University College, London.

391

your son, and his lady were on the point of visiting
England. Could you be induced to accompany them,
you would find a knot, small, but firm and steady, of
friends and admirers, consisting of countrymen of your
own as well as of natives. They would be proud to
conduct you to every object not undeserving your
notice. We possess the works of our own Flaxman,
and we have rescued from destruction the Elgin
Marbles, and here they are.

I had intended visiting my old friend Herr von Knebel
last year, but having planned a journey into Italy in
the Autumn of the present, I have deferred my visit till
the following Spring, when I hope you will permit me
in person to thank you for your flattering attention.
I have the honour to be. Sir,

With the deepest esteem,

H. C. Robinson.

May 'i^rd. — A morning of calls, and a little business
at W, Tooke's, whom I desired to buy for me a
share in the London University.* This I have done at
the suggestion of several friends, including my brother
Thomas, as a sort of debt to the cause of civil and
religious liberty. I think the result of the establish-
ment very doubtful indeed, and shall not consider my
share as of any pecuniary value.-f*

* Afterwards University College.

\ I shall have much to say hereafter of what, for many years, has con-
stituted a main business of my life. Never were ;^ioo better spent, — I
mean considered as an item of personal expense ; for the University College
is far from having yet answered the great purposes originally announced. —
H. C. R., 1852.

Chap. xiv.
1828.

London
Univeisity.

392

Criminals Executed.

Chap. xiv.

1828.

execution of
criminals.

May iT,th. — There were to be five men executed, and
I was desirous to witness for once the ceremony within
the prison. At half-past seven I met the Under
Sheriff, Foss, at the gate. At eight we were joined by-
Sheriff Wilde, when some six or eight of us walked in
procession through long narrow passages to a long,
naked, and wretched apartment, to which were suc-
cessively brought the five unhappy creatures who were
to suffer. The first, a youth, came in pale and
trembling. He fainted as his arms were pinioned.
He whispered some inaudible words to a clergyman
who came and sat by him on a bench, while the others
were prepared for the sacrifice. His name was Brown.
The second, a fine young man, exclaimed, on entering
the room, that he was a murdered man, being picked
out while two others were suffered to escape. Both
these were, I believe, burglars. Two other men were
ill-looking fellows. They were silent, and seemingly
prepared. One man distinguished himself from the
rest — an elderly man, very fat, and with the look of a
substantial tradesman. He said, in a tone of indigna-
tion, to the fellow who pinioned him, " I am not the
first whom you have murdered. I am hanged because
I had a bad character." [I could not but think that
this is, in fact, properly understood, the only legitimate
excuse for hanging any one ; — because his character
(not reputation) is such that his life cannot but be a
curse to himself and others.] A clergyman tried to
persuade him to be quiet, and he said he was resigned.
He was hanged as a receiver of stolen horses, and
had been a notorious dealer for many years. The

Irving on the Test and Corporation Acts.

393

procession was then continued through other passages,
to a small room adjoining the drop, to which the
culprits were successively taken and tied up. I could
not see perfectly what took place, but I obsen^ed that
most of the men ran up the steps and addressed the
mob. The second burglar cried out, " Here 's another
murdered man, my lads ! " and there - was a cry of
" Murder" from the crowd. The horse-stealer also
addressed the crowd. I was within sight of the drop,
and observed it fall, but the sheriffs instantly left the
scaffold, and we returned to the Lord Mayor's parlour,
where the Under Sheriff, the Ordinary, two clergymen,
and two attendants in military dress, and I, breakfasted.

The breakfast was short and sad, and the conversa-
tion about the scene we had just witnessed. All agreed
it was one of the most disgusting of the executions
they had seen, from the want of feeling manifested by
most of the sufferers ; but sympathy was checked by the
appearance of four out of five of the men. However, I
shall not soon see such a sight again.*

May 1 8///. — Read lately Irving's letter to the King,
exhorting him not to commit the horrible act of
apostasy against Christ, the passing the Act repealing
the Test and Corporation Acts, which will draw down
certainly an express judgment from God. He asserts
that it is a form of infidelity to maintain that the King
reigns for the people, and not for Christ ; and that he is
accountable to the people, as he is accountable to Christ
alone. In the course of the pamphlet, however, he
insinuates that the King, who has all his authority from

• Nor have I.— H. C, R., 1852.

Chap. xiv.
1828.

Irving on

the repeal of

the Test and

Corporation

Acts.

394

Breakfast with Wordsworth and Coleridge.

Chap. xiv.

Coleridge
on Irving.

Great
dinner after
the repeal of
the Test and
Corporation

Acts.

Christ, has no power to act against the Church ; and as
he never explains what is the Church, it seems to me to
be a certain inference from his principle, that the King
ought to be resisted whenever he acts against the
judgment of God's minister — the pastor of the church
of the Caledonian Chapel.

yune I %th. — An • interesting day. Breakfasted with
Aders. Wordsworth and Coleridge were there. Alfred
Becher also. Wordsworth was chiefly busied about
making arrangements for his journey into Holland.
Coleridge was, as usual, very eloquent in his dreamy
monologues, but he spoke intelligibly enough on some
interesting subjects. It seems that he has of late been
little acquainted with Irving. He says that he silenced
Irving by showing how completely he had mistaken the
sense of the Revelation and Prophecies, and then Irving
kept away for more than a year. Coleridge says, " I
consider Irving as a man of great power, and I have an
affection for him. He is an excellent man, but his brain
has been turned by the shoutings of the mob. I think
him mad, literally mad.'.' He expressed strong indig-
nation at Irving's intolerance.

June iSth. — A grand dinner was given in Free-
masons' Tavern to celebrate a really great event. The
Duke of Sussex was in the chair — not a bad chairman,
though no orator. Scarcely fewer than 400 persons
were present. I went with my brother and the Pattis-
sons, and did not grudge my two guineas, though I
was not edified by the oratory of the day. Lord John
Russell, as well as Lord Holland, and other great men,
spoke (I thought) moderately, while a speech from

Test Act Dinner.

395

Aspland was admirable. Brougham spoke with great
mastery, both as to style and matter, and Denman with
effect. We did not break up till past one. Aspland's
was the great speech of the day, and was loudly
praised.

Dr. Wurm to H. C. R.

Hamburg,

Jime \c)th, 1828,
» . . . . Did you ever meet with Hegel, or any
of his works "i He is now the great Leviathan among
the philosophical writers of his day. He enjoys the
perfect confidence of the Prussian Government, for he
has contrived to give to a strange sort of pantheism a
curious twist, by which it is constantly turned into a
most edifying " Apologie des Bestehendeu" (Apology for
things as they are). Marheinecke is his theological
amanuensis; his motto is at least as old as the Greek
mysteries, and who knows but it may be older still } —
" Lasst WIS Filosofen den Begriff, gibt dem Volke das
Bild !" (Leave us philosophers the true idea, give to
the multitude the symbol.)

July <,th, Rem* — I saw "Medea" at the Italian Opera,
and for the first and last time in my life had an enjoy-
ment from an Opera singer and actor which might
fairly be compared to that which Mrs. Siddons so often
afforded me. Madame Pasta gave an effect to the
murder scene which I could not have thought possible

♦ Written in 1852.

Chap, xiv,
1828.

Hegel.

Pasta.

39^

Madame Pasta. — Omiiibiis.

Chap. xiv.
1828.

Tour to the
Pyrenees.

Omnibuses.

before I witnessed it as actual. In spite of the want of
a tragic face or figure (for she was forced to strain her
countenance into a frown, and make an effort to look
great, and all her passion was apparently conscious, and
I had never before witnessed the combined effect of
acting with song), still the effect was overpowering.
What would not Mrs. Siddons have made of the
character ? So I asked then, and ask now. The scene
unites all the requisites to call forth the powers she so
eminently possessed ; but the Grecian fable has never
flourished on the English stage.

On Thursday, August 6th, I set out on a tour to the
Pyrenees, having written to Shutt, who was about to
make the journey.

Rem.* — On the loth August, at Paris, my attention
was drawn to a novelty — a number of long diligences
inscribed, "Entreprise generale pour des omnibus."
And on my return, in October, I made frequent use
of them, paying five sous for a course. I remarked
then, that so rapid is the spread of all substantial
comforts, that they would certainly be introduced
in London before Christmas, as in fact they were ; -f-
and at this moment they constitute an important
ingredient in London comfort. Indeed they are now
introduced into all the great cities of Europe and
America.

On the 25th of August, after a walk of seven leagues
from Luchon to Arreau, we had an agreeable adventure,

* Written in 1852.

f They were not introduced in London till the autumn of 1829, and then
only on those roads, off the stones as it was called, on which stage-coaches were
permitted to compete with hackneys and cabs.

Bishop Stanley.

397

the memory of which lasted. Shutt and I had recon-
ciled ourselves to dining in a neat kitchen with the
people of the house, when a lively-looking little man in
black, a sort of Yorick in countenance, having first
surveyed us, stepped up and very civilly offered us the
use of the parlour in which were himself and his family.
" We have finished our dinner," he said, " and shall be
happy to have your company." The lady was a most
agreeable person, and the family altogether very amiable.
We had a very pleasant evening. The gentleman was
a good liberal Whig, and we agreed so well that, 'on
parting next day, he gave us his card. " I am a
Cheshire clergyman," he said, " and I shall be glad to
see you at my living, if you ever are in my neighbour-
hood."

When I next saw him he was become Bishop of
Norwich. He did not at once recognize me when I
first saw him in company with the Arnolds, on my going
to see the Doctor's portrait, but Mrs. Stanley did, and
young Stanley,* the biographer of Dr. Arnold, and the
Bishop afterward showed me courteous hospitality at his
palace at Norwich, when the Archaeological Institute was
held there. This kindness to us strangers in this little
adventure in the Pyrenees was quite in harmony with
his character. The best of Christian bishops, he was
the least of a prelate imaginable ; hence he was treated
with rudeness by the bigots when he took possession
of his bishopric. But he was universally beloved and
lamented at his death.

On this journey I fell in also with two English

* Dean of Westminster.

Chap. xiv.
1828.

Bishop
Stanley.

398

Quitting the Bar.

Chap. xiv.

Lamb's

*' Intruding

Widow."

H. C. R.

quits the

Bar.

exquisites, who, after seeing this district, expressed their
wonder that any Enghshman who knew Derbyshire
could think the Pyrenees worth seeing ; they did not.
They were going to the Alps, and asked me what I
advised them to see. I told them, in a tone of half-
confidence, that, whatever people might say, there was
nothing worth tJieir seeing ; and I was not at all
scrupulous about their misunderstanding me. At
Rome, I saw some sportsmen, who took over dogs
to sport in the Campagna. They were delighted with
their sport, and had been a week there without seeing
St. Peter's, and probably would leave Rome without
going in.

December i^th. — Walked to Enfield from Mr.
Relph's.* I dined with Charles and Mary Lamb, and
after dinner had a long spell at dummy whist with
them. When they went to bed, I read a little drama
by Lamb, " The Intruding Widow," which appeared in
Blackwood's Magazine. It is a piece of great feeling,
but quite unsuitable for performance, there being no
action whatever in it.

A great change took place this year, through my
quitting the Bar at the end of the summer circuit. My
object in being called to the Bar was to acquire a
gentlemanly independence, such at least as would
enable a bachelor, of no luxurious or expensive habits,
to enjoy good society with leisure. And having about
;^200 per annum, with the prospect of something more,
I was not afraid to make known to my friends that,
while I deemed it becoming in me to continue in the

* Mr. Cuthbert Relph, of Turner's Hill, Cheshunt.

Income.

399

profession till I was fifty years of age, and until I
had a net income of ;^500 per annum, I had made
up my mind not to continue longer, unless there
were other inducements than those of mere money-
making.*

* In looking back on his life, Mr. Robinson used to say, that two of the
wisest acts he had done were going to the Bar, and quitting the Bar.

Chap. xiv.
1828.

400

Antiquarian Society.

Chap. xv.

Study of
Italian.

Society of

Anti-
quaries.

CHAPTER XV.

1829.

The New Year opened on me at Witham, where I
enjoyed my visit with an ease I had not for many years
felt, being relieved from all anxieties. I had already
commenced my studies of the Italian language, or
rather renewed what I had begun in Holstein twenty
years before ; and I set about reading Goldoni, a 'dra-
matist admirably suited to that object, whose popularity
showed the fallen state of the drama in Italy, as that of
his superior in the same style, Kotzebue, had lately
been doing in Germany. But the plays — properly sen-
timental comedies — fairly exhibited the national con-
dition and feeling in the last generation.

February 12th. — Before eight I went to the Anti-
quarian Society, to consummate an act of folly by being
admitted an F.S.A. As soon as the step was taken,
every one, even the members themselves, were ready to
tell me how sunken the Society is. They do nothing at
all, says every one. Certainly this evening did not put
me in good-humour with myself. There were about
forty persons present, Hudson Gurney, M.P., in the
chair. Amyot presented me to him, when he ought to
have ceremoniously put on his hat and taken me by the

Royal Society.

401

hand, and gravely repeated a form of words set down
for him.

Two very insignificant little papers were read, from
neither of which did I collect a thought. One was a
genealogical memoir, the other an extract from a cata-
logue of furniture in the palace of Henry VIII. No
attempt to draw any inference, historical or otherwise,
from any one article. After one dull half-hour was
elapsed, another still duller succeeded, and then Amyot
took me as a guest to the Royal Society. Here, indeed,
the handsome hall, fine collection of portraits, the mace,
and the dignified deportment of the President, Davies
Gilbert, were enough to keep one in an agreeable state
of excitement for thirty minutes. But as to the
memoir, what it was about I do not know. Some
chemical substance was the subject of admeasurement,
and there was something about some millionth parts of
an inch. After the meeting the members adjourned to
the library, where tea was served. Chatted there with
Tiarks and others. One circumstance was pleasant
enough. Amyot introduced me to Davies Gilbert, the
P.R.S., and he invited me to his Saturday evening
parties.

Rem* — I have since made some agreeable acquaint-
ance from my connection with the Antiquarian Society,
and its proceedings hav6 not been without incidents of
interest.

February \^th. — I was engaged to dine with Mr.
Wansey at Walthamstow. When I arrived there I was
in the greatest distress, through having forgotten his

* Written in 1852.
VOL. II. I^ D

Chap. xv.
1829.

Its dull
doings.

Palinode,

Lapse of
memory.

402

Cogan.

Chap. xv.
1829,

Mr. Cogan.

Dinner

with the

Linneean

Society.

name. And it was not till after half-an-hour's worry
that I recollected he was a Unitarian, which would
answer as well ; for I instantly proceeded to Mr,
Cogan's. Having been shown into a room, young Mr.
Cogan came — "Your commands,, sir .!*" — "Mr. Cogan,
I have taken the liberty to call on you in order to know
where I am to dine to-day." He smiled. I went on,
" The truth is, I have accepted an invitation to dine with
a gentleman, a recent acquaintance, whose name I have
forgotten ; but I am sure you can tell me, for he is a
Unitarian, and the Unitarians are very few here." And
before I had gone far in my description he said, " This
can be no other than Mr. Wansey. And now, may I
ask your name .-'" — " No, thank you, I am much obliged
to you for enabling me to get a dinner, but that is no
reason why I should enable you to make me table-talk
for the next nine days," He laughed. " There is no
use in your attempting to conceal your name. I know
who you are, and, as a proof, I can tell you that a name-
sake of yours has been dining with us, an old fellow-
circuiteer of yours. We have just finished dinner in
the old Dissenting fashion. My father and mother will
be very glad to see you," Accordingly I went in, and
sat with the Cogans a couple of hours, Mr. Cogan kept
a school for many years, and was almost the only
Dissenting schoolmaster whose competence as a Greek
scholar was acknowledged by Dr. Parr,*

February lyth. — Dined with the members of the
Linnaean Society at the Thatched House Tavern — intro-

* The late Premier, the Right Honourable Benjamin Disraeli, received his
education at this school, where he remained till he was articled to a solicitor.

Littncean Society.

403

duced by Benson. An amusing dinner. In the chair
an old gentleman from the country — Mr. Lambert.
Present, Barrow, of the Admiralty ; Law, Bishop of
Bath and Wells ; Stokes, and, cum miiltis aliis, Sir
George Staunton. I had the good luck to be placed
next the latter, who amused me much. He is the son
of the diplomatic traveller in China, known by his book,
and he himself afterwards filled the situation of his
father. He has a jiffle and a jerk in his bows and
salutations which give him a ludicrous air ; but he is
perfectly gentlemanly, and I believe in every way
respectable. He is a great traveller, a bachelor, and a
man of letters. We adjourned early to the Linnsean
Society, where I found many acquaintances. I can't
say I was much edified by the articles read. They
rivalled those of the Antiquarians and of the Royal
Society in dulness. But the people there, and the fine
collection of birds and insects, were at least amusing.
Lord Stanley in the chair.

February 21st, Rem* — At six dined with Gooden.
Tom Hill, the real original Paul Pry, was there, the man
whom everybody laughed at, and whom, on account of
his good-nature, many tolerated, and some made use
pf as a circulating medium. He was reported to be of
great age ; and Theodore Hook circulated the apology
that his baptismal register could not be found, because
it was burnt in the Fire of London. He dealt in
literary haberdashery, and was once connected with
the Mirror, a magazine, the motto of which was
" A snapper up of unconsidered trifles." He was

• Written in 1852.

D D 2

Chap. xv.
1829.

The

original

Paul Pry.

404

Paul Pry. — Hudson Gurney.

Chap. xv.
1829.

Irving s
sermon on

Catholic
emancipa-
tion.

also a great fetcher and carrier of gossiping para-
graphs for the papers. His habit of questioning
was quite ludicrous ; and because it was so ridi-
culous, it was less offensive, when he was universally
known,

February 22>th, Rem.* — Went with Amyot to dine
with Hudson Gurney. A small party. Mr. Madden,
of the British Museum, Dr. Philpotts, and one lady
from Norwich. A pleasant afternoon. The defeat
of Peel at Oxford was, perhaps, felt by no one but
Dr. Philpotts, and he was in good spirits, and was
very good company. He said his son was against him
at Oxford, and he was not sorry for it, which I recol-
lect being not displeased with him for saying. By-the-
by, the Doctor has recently written in defence of his
conduct on this occasion, in answer to the Edinburgh
Review. Had the Doctor gone on in the same direc-
tion as Lord Palmerston, his conduct would have been
but mildly censured. It is the repeated vacillation,
the changing backwards as well as forwards, which
cannot be forgiven.

March \st (Sunday). — Heard Irving preach a furious
sermon against Catholic emancipation. He kept me
attentive for an hour and a half He was very eloquent,
and there was enough of argument and plan in his
discourse to render it attractive to a thinking man. At
the same time, the extravagant absurdities he uttered
were palpable. His argument was, in short, this : —
Christ ordained that the civil and ecclesiastical go-
vernment should be in different hands ; the King is

» Written in 1852.

Irving against Catholic Emancipation.

40s

his vicegerent in all temporal concerns, and we owe
him implicit and absolute obedience ; the Church is
equally sovereign in all spiritual matters. The Devil
raised up the Papacy, which, grasping both powers,
possesses neither ; for, whenever power is given to a
Churchman, whenever he is raised to a magistracy, there
the mystery of iniquity is made manifest ; hence the
diabolical character of the Papal power. In order to
show that this doctrine is that of the Church of Eng-
land, Irving referred to a clause in the 37th Article, but
that Article merely refuses to the King the power of
preaching, and of administering the Sacraments ; it
gives him Ecclesiastical authority in express terms ; and
what has Irving to say of the bench of bishops "i Irving
prayed against the passing of the threatened bill,, but
exhorted the people to submit to the Government. If
persecution^should follow (as is probable), they are to
submit to martyrdom. In the midst of a furious tirade,
a voice cried from the door, " That is not true ! " He
finished his period, and then exclaimed, after a pause,
" It is well when the Devil speaks from the mouth of
one possessed. It shows that the truth works." When
I heard Irving, I thought of the fanatics of Scotland in
the seventeenth century. His powerful voice, equally
musical and tender ; his admirable enunciation and
glorious figure, are enough to excite his audience
to rebellion, if his doctrine had permitted acts of
violence^

Chap. xv.
1829.

4o6

A Dream by Clarkson.

Chap. xv.
.1829.

A dream.

Mrs. Clarkson to H. C. R.

March 12 th, 1829.
Perhaps it may edify you if I relate a remarkable
dream of my husband's. He dreamt that he was dead
and laid out, and was looking at his toes to see if they
had laid him straight, when his attention was arrested
by the appearance of an angel, who told him that he
was sent from God to tell him that some resurrection
men were coming for him ; that he was to lie quite still
till they came, then take the sword, which the angel
laid down by his side, and pursue them, and that he
should be protected. The angel disappeared — the men
came — my husband did as he was commanded — seized
the men one after the other, and cut off their ears with
the sword. He awoke, laughing, at seeing them run
away with their hands holding their heads where the
ears had been cut off. As you may suppose, this
dream occurred at Christmas time, when we had been
feasting, and the papers were filled with the Edinburgh
murders. If you had heard Mr. Clarkson tell the
dream, you would never have forgotten it. It was so
exquisitely droll that, for a day or two afterwards,
one or other of us was perpetually bursting out into
laughter at the remembrance of it.

H. C. R. TO Wordsworth.

April 22nd, 1829.
My dear Friend,

After walking to and from Deptford,

on the 5th of March, returning over Westminster

Bridge, I must e'en, in the joy of my pro-popery heart,

Rheumatism.

407

step into the avenues of the House of Commons, to
hear the details of the Bill that night brought forward
by the Home Secretary, I loitered about three-
quarters of an hour at midnight, chatting with the
emancipationist members. Went to bed at two, and
in the morning found my left knee as crooked as the
politics of the Ministry are, by the anti-Catholics,
represented to be. After using leeches, poultices, &c.,
for three weeks, I went down to Brighton, and again, in
a most unchristian spirit, put myself under the hands of
the Mahomedan Mahomet — was stewed in his vapour-
baths, and shampooed under his pagan paws. But I
found it easier to rub in than drive out a devil, for I
went with a rheumatic knee, and came away with one
knee, one shoulder, and two elbows, all rheumatic. I
am now under a regular doctor's hands, but the malady
seems obstinate, and my present indisposition, slight as
it is, serves to disturb my visions of enjoyment. It is
sad to feel one's " animal impulses all gone by," when
one is conscious of possessing the higher sensations but
feebly. Hitherto, mere locomotion has been to me, as it
was to Johnson, almost enough to gratify me. There was
a time when mere novelty of external scenery (without
any society whatever) sufficed. I am half-ashamed of
becoming more nice both as to persons and places.

[This is the attack of rheumatism which called forth
Lamb's " Hoax" and " Confession." They have already
been printed in Talfourd's work. For reprinting here,
in situ, these most characteristic productions, the Editor
feels assured that no apology is necessary.]

Chap. xv.
1829.

An attack
of rheu-
matism.

4o8

Lamb's Letter thereon.

Chap. xv.
1829.

C. Lamb to H. C. R.

April, 1829.

Dear Robinson,

We are afraid you will slip from us, from Eng-
land, without again seeing us. It would be charity to
come and see me, I have these three days been laid
up with strong rheumatic pains in loins, back, shoulders,
I shriek sometimes from the violence of them. I get
scarce any sleep, and the consequence is, I am restless,
and want to change sides as I lie, and I cannot turn
without resting on my hands, and so turning all my
body at once, like a log with a lever.

While this rainy weather lasts I have no hope of alle-
viation. I have tried flannels and embrocation in vain-
Just at the hip-joint the pangs sometimes are so excru-
ciating that I cry out. It is as violent as the cramp,
and far more continuous. I am ashamed to whine
about these complaints to you, who can ill enter into
them.

But, indeed, they are sharp. You go about in rain
or fine, at all hours, without discommodity. I envy
you your immunity at a time of life not much removed
from my own. But you owe your exemption to tem-
perance, which it is too late for me to pursue. I, in my
lifetime, have had my good things. Hence tny frame is
brittle — -yours strong as brass. I never knew any ailment
you had. You can go out at night in all weathers, sit
up all hours. Well, I don't want to moralize, I only
wish to say that if you are inclined to a game at Double
Dummy, I would try and bolster up myself in a chair
for a rubber or so. My days are tedious, but less so

Hoax and Confession.

409

and less painful than my nights. May you never know
the pain and difficulty I have in writing so much !
Mary, who is most kind, joins in the wishj

C. Lamb.

Confession of Hoax.

I do confess to mischief. It was the subtlest diabo-
lical piece of malice heart of man has contrived. I
have no more rheumatism than that poker, — never was
freer from all pains and aches ; every joint sound, to
the tip of the ear from the extremity of the lesser toe.
The report of thy torments was blown circuitously here
from Bury. I could not resist the jeer. I conceived
you writhing, when you should just receive my congra-
tulations. How mad you'd be ! Well, it is not in my
method to inflict pangs. I leave that to Heaven. But
in the existing pangs of a friend I have a share. His
disquietude crowns my exemption. I imagine you
howling, and pace across the room, shooting out my
free arms, legs, &c., / \ / f^ this way and that way,
with an assurance of not kindling a spark of pain from
them. I deny that Nature meant us to sympathize with
agonies. Those face-contortions, retortions, distortions,
have the merriness of antics. Nature meant them for
farce, — not so pleasant to the actor, indeed ; but Gri-
maldi cries when we laugh, and 'tis but one that suffers
to make thousands rejoice.

You say that shampooing is ineffectual. But per se it
is good, to show the introvolutions, extravolutions, of
which the animal frame is capable, — to show what the
creature is receptible of, short of dissolution.

Chap. xv.
1829.

4IO

Pretended Palinode.

Chap. xv.
1829.

You are worst of nights, an't you ?
'T will be as good as a sermon to you to lie abed all
this night, and meditate the subject of the day. 'Tis

Good Friday.

* * » # ♦ »

Nobody will be the more justified for your endurance.
You won't save the soul of a mouse. 'Tis a pure selfish
pleasure.

You never was rack'd, was you ? I should like an
authentic map of those feelings.

You seem to have the flying gout. You can scarcely
screw a smile out of your face, can you } I sit at
immunity, and sneer ad libitum.

'Tis now the time for you to make good resolutions.
I may go on breaking 'em, for anything the worse I find
myself.

Your doctor seems to keep you on the long cure.
Precipitate healings are never good.

Don't come while you are so bad. I shan't be able to
attend to your throes and the dummy at once.

I should like to know how slowly the pain goes off.
But don't write, unless the motion will be likely to make
your sensibility more exquisite.

Your affectionate and truly healthy friend,

C. Lamb.

Mary thought a letter from me might amuse you in
your torment.

•\

%
^

S -^

412

Conversation Sharpe.

Chap. xv.

1829.

Conversa-
tion Sharpe.

April 2^tk. — Breakfasted with Richard Sharpe by-
appointment. He gave me verbal advice about my
intended tour in Italy, and which he is to reduce to
writing. A very gratifying two hours' chat with him.
He is commonly called " Conversation Sharpe." He
has lived in the best society, and belongs to the last
generation. In his room were five most interesting
portraits, all of men he knew — Johnson, Burke, and
Reynolds by Reynolds, Henderson by Gainsborough,
and Mackintosh by Opie. I will not pretend here to
put down any part of his conversation, except that he
mentioned the Finstermunz Pass as the very finest spot
in the Tyrol, and that he recommends my going to
Laibach. He spoke of a philosophical work he means
to publish, but I do not think he will ever have any
higher fame than that of being " Conversation Sharpe."
He certainly talks well.*

Wordsworth to H. C. R.

Rydal Mount, Kendal, April 26th, 1829.
My dear Friend,

Dora holds the pen for me. A month ago the
east wind gave me an inflammation in my left eyelid,
which led, as it always does, to great distress of the eye,
so that I have been unable either to read or write,
which privations I bear patiently ; and also a third, full
as grievous — a necessary cessation from the amusement

* He was a partner of Samuel Boddington, and had acquired wealth in
business. He once obtained a seat in Parliament, made a single speech, and
was never heard of afterwards. Wordsworth held him to be better acquainted
with Italy than any other man, and advised me to ask his advice concerning
my journey. — H. C. R.

Wordsworth on Old- Age Travelling.

413

of composition, and almost of thought. Truly were we
grieved to hear of your illness, first, from Mr. Quillinan,
and this morning from your own account, which makes

the case much worse than we had apprehended

I enter thoroughly into what you say of the manner in
which this malady has affected your locomotive habits
and propensities ; and I grieve still more when I bear
in mind how active you have ever been, in going about
to serve your friends and to do good. Motion, so
mischievous in most, was in you a beneficent power

indeed My sister-in-law. Miss Joanna

Hutchinson, and her brother Henry, an ex-sailor, are
about to embark, at the Isle of Man, for Norway, to
remain till July. Were I not tied at home I should cer-
tainly accompany them. As far as I can look back, I
discern in my mind imaginative traces of Norway : the
people are said to be simple and worthy — the Nature is
magnificent. I have heard Sir H. Davy aflSrm that
there is nothing equal to some of the ocean inlets of

that region It would have been a great

joy to us to have seen you, though upon a melancholy
occasion. You talk of the more than chance of your
being absent upwards of two years. I am entered my
sixtieth year. Strength must be failing ; and snappings
off, as the danger my dear sister has just escaped
lamentably proves, ought not to be long out of sight.
Were she to depart, the phasis of my moon would be
robbed of light to a degree that I have not courage to
think of. During her illness, we often thought of your
high esteem of her goodness, and of your kindness
towards her upon all occasions. Mrs. Wordsworth is

Chap. xv.
1829.

Words-
worth on
Norway,

414

Dr. Yoimg.

Chap. xv.

1829.

On hit

home

treasures.

Hudson
Gurney.

Dr. Young.

still with her. Dora is my housekeeper, and did she not
hold the pen, it would run wild in her praises. Sara
Coleridge, one of the lovelfest and best of creatures, is
with me, so that I am an enviable person, notwithstand-
ing our domestic impoverishment. I have nothing to
say of books (newspapers having employed all the
voices I could command), except that the first volume of
Smith's " Nollekens and his Times" has been read to
me. There are some good anecdotes in the book : the
one which made most impression on me was that of
Reynolds, who is reported to have taken from the print
of a halfpenny ballad in the street an effect in one of
his pictures which pleased him more than anything he
had produced. If you were here, I might be tempted
to talk with you about the Duke's settling of the Catholic
question. Yet why? for you are going to Rome, the
very centre of light, and can have no occasion for my
farthing candle. Dora joins me in affectionate regards ;
she is a stanch anti-papist, in a woman's way, and
perceives something of the retributive hand of justice
in your rheumatism ; but, nevertheless, like a true
Christian, she prays for your speedy convalescence. . . .

Wm. Wordsworth.

April 2gth. — Dined at the Athenaium. Hudson
Gurney asked me to dine with him. He was low-
spirited. His friend. Dr. Young, is dying. Gurney
speaks of him as a very great man, the most learned
physician and greatest mathematician of his age, and
the first discoverer of the clue to the Egyptian hiero-
glyphics. Calling on him a few days ago, Gurney

Two Days with Lamb.

415

found him busy about his Egyptian Dictionary, though
very ill. He is aware of his state, but that makes him
most anxious to finish his work. " I would not," he
said to Gurney, " live a single idle day."

May Zth. — Went by the early coach to Enfield, being
on the road from half-past eight till half-past ten o'clock.
Lamb was from home a great part of the morning. I
spent the whole of the day with him and his sister,
without going out of the house, except for a mile before
dinner with Miss Lamb. I had plenty of books to
lounge over. I read Brougham's Introduction to the
Library of Useful Knowledge, remarkable only as com-
ing from the busiest man living, a lawyer in full practice,
a partisan in Parliament, an Edinburgh Reviewer, and
a participator in all public and party matters.

May <^th. — Nearly the whole day within doors. I
merely sunned myself at noon on the beautiful Enfield
Green. When I was not with the Lambs, I employed
myself in looking over Charles's books, of which
no small number are curious. He throws away all
modern books, but retains even the trash he liked
when a boy. Looked over a " Life of Congreve," one
of Curll's infamous publications, containing nothing.
Also the first edition of the " Rape of the Lock," with
the machinery.* It is curious to observe the improve-
ments in the versification. CoUey Gibber's pamphlets
against Pope only flippant and disgusting — nothing
worth notice. Read the beginnings of two wretched

* The poem was first published in two cantos ; but the author, adopting the
idea of enlivening it by the machinery of sylphs, gnomes, nymphs, and sala-
manders, then familiar topics, enlarged the two cantos to five.

Chap. xv.
1829.

Visit to the
Latnbs at
Enfield.

Lamb's
library.

4i6

Croker a Club Despot.

Chap. xv.
1829.

The porch

of the

AthencEum.

Croker.

novels. Lamb and his sister were both in a fidget to-day
about the departure of their old servant Becky, who had
been with them many years, but, being ill-tempered, had
been a plague and a tyrant to them. Yet Miss Lamb
was frightened at the idea of a new servant. However,
their new maid, a cheerful, healthy girl, gave them
spirits, and all the next day Lamb was rejoicing in the
change. Moxon came very late.

May loth. — All the forenoon in the back room with
the Lambs, except that I went out to take a place in
the evening stage. About noon Talfourd came : he had
walked. Moxon, after a long walk, returned to dinner,
and we had an agreeable chat between dinner and tea.

May nth, Rem.* — A general meeting at the Athe-
naeum, at which I rendered good service to the club.
The anecdote is worth relating, mainly because it is
characteristic of a man who played an important part
in public life. I speak of the Right Honourable Wilson
Croker, for many years regarded as really master, though
nominally the Secretary, of the Admiralty, who was
one of the most active of the founders of the Athenaeum
Club. He was one of the Trustees of the House, a
permanent member of the Committee, and, according
to common report, the officious manager and despot,
ruling the club at his will. I had been told in the
•morning that the Committee had meant to have a neat
portico of four columns— the one actually erected —
but that Croker had arbitrarily changed the plan, and
the foundations were then digging for a portico of two
columns, not at all becoming so broad a space as the

* Written in 1852.

The Question put.

417

front comprises. At the meeting, after the report had
been read, Dr. Henderson made an attack on the Com-
mittee, reproaching them for their lavish expenditure.
This suited my purpose admirably, for on this I rose
and said, that so far were the Committee from meriting
this reproach, that, on the contrary, a mistaken desire
to be economical had, I believed, betrayed them into
an act which I thought the body of the proprietors
would not approve, and on which I would take their
opinion. I then began to state the point about the
portico, when Mr. Croker interrupted me, saying I was
under a great mistake — that there never was any inten-
tion to have any other portico than the one now pre-
paring. This for a moment perplexed me, but I said,
" Of course the chairman meant that no other portico
had been resolved on, which might well be. Individual
men might be deterred by his opposition, but I knew,"
raising my voice, " that there were other designs, for I
had seen them." Then Mr. Croker requested me, as an
act of politeness, to abstain from a motion which would
be an affront to the Committee. This roused me,
and I said that if any other gentleman would say he
thought my motion an affront, I would not make
it ; but I meant otherwise. And then I added ex-
pressions which forced him to say that I had certainly
expressed myself most handsomely, but it would be
much better to leave the matter in the hands of the
Committee. "That," I said, "is the question which
you will, in fact, by my motion, submit to the meet-
ing." There was then a cry of " Move, move," and a
very large number of hands were held up for the
VOL. II. E E

Chap. xv.
1829.

Croker's

amateur

architecture

prevented.

4i8

Young Incledon. — Flaxman's Works at

Chap. xv.
1829.

Incledon s
son.

motion. So it passed by acclamation, I was thanked
by the architect, and everybody was pleased with what
I had done.

May \2th. — On the Bury coach met young Incledon,
the son of the famous singer, with whom I had
a long chat. He is about to go on the stage, at
the age of thirty-eight, having been unfortunate in
farming, and having a family to maintain. He has
accepted a very advantageous offer from Drury Lane,
and will come on the stage under the patronage of
Braham, who means to abandon to him his younger
characters. His dislike to the profession is extreme,
and amounts to diseased antipathy ; it partakes of a
moral and religious character.

Rem* — He had always avowed this horror of a
theatrical life, though it used to be said by his Suffolk
friends, that his voice was equal to his father's. I
have no knowledge of his subsequent history, nor
do I recollect hearing of his carrying out this inten-
tion.

May \$th. — Drove with my niece and grand-niece to
see Lord Bristol's new house. A fine object, certainly,
even in its progress. The only work of art it yet
contains is a noble performance by Flaxman, " Athamas
and Ino."-f- It will be the pride of the hall when set up.
It is more massive than Flaxman's works generally are,
and the female figure more embotipomt. The propor-
tions of the head and neck of Ino are not, I fear, to
be justified. There is vast expression of deep passion

* Written in 1852.

f It is still there, but looks very cold and uncomfortable, as does the house.

Lord BristoVs.

419

in all the figures. The beautiful frieze of the " Iliad"
is placed too high to be easily seen, but that of the
" Odyssey " below, is most delightful. There are some
compartments not from the " Odyssey," nor, I believe,
by Flaxman.

Chap. xv.
1829.

E E 2

420

Tour in Germany.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

Tour.

The Rhine.

CHAPTER XVI.

GERMANY.

June \Afth. — Rose at five, though I had gone to bed
at two. My kind friends, the Colliers, made coffee for
me, and at'seven I left them and proceeded to Antwerp
by steamboat. I did not on this occasion leave England
with the holiday feeling which I have had for many
years on beginning my summer excursions. Now I
have given up my chambers, and I set out on a journey
with no very clear or distinct object. I have a vague
desire to see new countries and new people, and I hope
that, as I have hitherto enjoyed myself while travelling,
I shall be still able to relish a rambling life, though my
rheumatic knee will not permit me to be so active as I
have hitherto been.

The rich variety of romantic scenery between
Coblenz and Bingen kept me in a state of excitement
and pleasure, which palled not a moment. Sentiment
was mingled with the perceptions of beauty. I re-
collected with interest my adventures on the Rhine
in 1 801, my walk up the Lahn valley, my night at
St. Goar, &c., &c. I had, besides, the pleasure of
interesting conversation.

I wished to see an interesting man at Mainz —

Frankfort Friends.

421

Hofrath Jung.* I found him a very old man, nearly
blind, and with declining faculties. He is seventy-six.
But to me he is a most interesting man. His family, I
have since heard, would be a source of anxiety to him,
did he not live in a voluntary dream of sentimental
piety. He himself introduced me to his daughter, who
has been many years bedridden, suffering from nervous
complaints. I was permitted to sit with her a quarter
of an hour. She also interested me deeply. With him
I took a walk for nearly two hours in the avenue
beyond the gates. He is one of the cheerful and
hopeful contemplators of human life. He believes
practically that everything is for the best — that the
German governments are all improving — and that truth
is everywhere making progress. This progress he
likens to the travelling in penance of certain pilgrims,
who go'^two steps forward and one back. They get on.
June 2'i^rd. — Arrived at Frankfort, and remained
there, at the Weidenbusch, till the 9th of July. I had
the satisfaction of finding myself not forgotten by my
old friends, though so many years have elapsed since
my last visit. Souchays, Myliuses, Schuncks, Brentanos,
Charlotte Serviere — the old familiar names, and the
faces too — but these all changed. Von Leonhardi has
become enfeebled. " Philosophy," he said, " is gone by
in Germany, and the love of civil and religious liberty
is out of fashion. The liberty of the press the Germans
are not ripe for yet." My old acquaintance Christian
Brentano has become a pietist, and all but a fanatic.
De Lamennais is his hero now.

* Su p. 107.

Chap. xvi.

1829.

Hofrath

Frankfort
and old
friends.

Christian
Brentano.

422

Heidelberg Friends.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

The
healing art.

Heidelberg.

A dinner at
the Castle.

Bene eke.

Among the curiosities of literature I fell in with,
was a treatise on medicine by a Dr. Windischmann,
" Ueber etwas das der Heilkunst Noth thiit" i.e., " Of
Something that the Art of Healing Needs." It treats,
first, of the ordinary modes of cure ; secondly, of
magnetic cures ; and thirdly, of cures by means of
faith and prayer. The author a Professor at the
Prussian University at Bonn — and the English suppose
the Germans are all infidels !

July (^th. — I proceeded to Heidelberg, where I spent
twelve days very pleasantly. My enjoyment was en-
hanced by a very agreeable incident. My arrival having
been announced, a dinner given at the Castle, by
Benecke, to our common friends, was postponed, that I
might be a partaker. Under a shed in a garden at this
delightful spot, a party of more than a dozen assembled ;
and the day was not one to be forgotten with ordinary
festive meetings.

Here I found my friend Benecke in his proper place.
Removed from the cares and anxieties of commerce,
he can devote himself to philosophical speculation. His
religious doctrines, though they have not the assent of
the great body of Christian believers, are yet such as
excite no jealousy on the part of the orthodox, and at
the same time occupy his whole soul, have his entire
confidence, and nourish his warm affections. He is
conscious of enjoying general esteem.

My time at Heidelberg, as at Frankfort, was chiefly
employed in visits to old friends, which afforded me
great pleasure, though I cannot here enter into par-
ticulars.

Schlosser. — Paulus.

423

Among the eminent persons whom I saw was Thi-
baut, head of the Faculty of Law, my protector and
friend at Jena in 1804. He seems dissatisfied with all
religious parties, and it is hard to know what he would
like. I thought of Pococurante: ^^ Quel grand homme^'
says Candide, " rien ne lui platt." Thibaut is a great
musical amateur, and all his leisure is devoted to the
art. But of modern music he spoke contemptuously.
Being a Liberal in politics, he is an admirer of the
political institutions of our country ; but as to fine art,
his opinion of our people is such, that he affirmed no
Englishman ever produced a musical sound worth
hearing, or drew a line worth looking at. Perhaps he
was thinking of colour, rather than outline or sculpture.
I saw also, on two or three occasions, Hofrath Schlosser,
the historian, — a very able man, the maker of his own
fortune. He is a rough, vehement man, but I believe
thoroughly upright and conscientious. His works are
said to be excellent.* He is a man of whom I wish to
see more.

Benecke took me to Mittermaier, the jurist. I feel
humbled in the presence of the very laborious pro-
fessor, who, in addition to mere professional business
as judge, legislative commissioner, and University pro-
fessor, edits, and in a great measure writes, a law
journal. And as a diversion he has studied English
law more learnedly than most of our own lawyers, and
qualified himself to write on the subject.

Twice I had a tete-a-t^te conversation with Paulus.

* His voluminous " History of the Eighteenth Century" was translated into
English by the Rev. D. Davison.

Chap. xvi.

1829.

Thibaut.

Schlosser.

Mitter-
viaier.

Paulus.

424

Baron von Stein,

Chap. xvi.
1829.

Paulus.

Baron von
Stein.

There is something interesting in this famous anti-super-
naturaHst. He is in his old age inspired by a disin-
terested zeal against priests and privileged orders, and
is both honest and benevolent. He declaims against
our Catholic emancipation, because the Government
neglected to avail themselves of the opportunity of
taking education out of the hands of the priests. As
to the state of religion, he says that there is little
right-down orthodoxy left in Protestant Germany. He
was a fine strong man, of great bodily vigour.* Both
he and Hofrath Schlosser thought constitutional liberty
not in danger from the French ultras.

July 22nd. — Returned to Frankfort, A very fine
morning. Darmstadt looked invitingly handsome as I
rode through. At Frankfort, I had the pleasure of
seeing the famous Prussian minister, Baron von Stein,
who was outlawed by Buonaparte. A fine old man,
with a nose nearly as long as Zenobio's, which gives his
countenance an expression of comic sagacity. He is
by no means in favour at the Court of Prussia. I was
glad of an opportunity of telling him that I had written
in his praise in the Quarterly Review.-\

* The Homiletische Correspondenz, in an article on Paulus's " Life of Christ, "
gives an account of his interpretation of the miracles, which is certainly as low
as anything can be imagined. He does not scruple to represent the feeding of
the 5000 as a picnic entertainment. He refers to essence of punch in con-
nection with the turning of water into wine. Jesus Christ is represented as a
good surgeon, who could cure diseases of the nerves by working on the imagi-
nation. The Ascension was a walk up a mountain on which was a cloud.
Such things are common enough among avowed unbelievers, but that they
should be thought compatible with the ministerial office, and also a Professor's
Chair at a University, and by Protestant governments, is the wonder! —
H. C. R.

f See p 288.

Jena. — Knebel and his Family.

42s

I called on Madame Niese, the Protestant sister of
Madame Schlosser. Though herself somewhat a zealot
in religion, the conversion of Madame Schlosser to
Roman Catholicism has caused no alienation of affection
between the sisters. By-the-by, Paulus told me that he
had taken pains to dissuade some Catholics from going
over to the Protestant religion.

Jtily 2^th. — Left Frankfort, and after travelling two
nights reached Weimar on the 26th, early. Very soon
proceeded to Jena in a hired chaise. A dull drive. It
used to be a delightful walk twenty-eight years ago.
But I remarked, with pleasure, that the old steep and
dangerous ascent, the Schnecke, is turned, and the road
is made safe and agreeable. Found my old friend Von
Knebel but little changed, though eleven years older
than when I last saw him. His boy, Bernard, is now
a very interesting youth of sixteen. I have not often
seen a boy who pleases me so much. Went early to
bed, sleeping in my delightful old room, from which the
views on three sides are charming.

July 2()th. — Set out on an interesting excursion of
three days. Frau von Knebel and Bernard accompanied
me in a drosky to Gumperda, near Kahla, in the Duchy
of Altenburg. There Charles von Knebel is feudal lord
of a Rittergut in right of his wife, a widow lady, whom
he married a few years ago. Gumperda lies about three
and a quarter leagues from Jena, in a valley beyond
Kahla, and the ride is through a very fine country. I
received a very cordial welcome from Charles von
Knebel. The mansion is solitary and spacious. We
had tea in a hanging wood, half way up the sides of

Chap. xvi.
1829.

yena and
Knebel.

Visit to

Knebel' s son

Charles.

426

Baronial Court,

Chap. xvi.
1829.

A German

Baronial

Court.

the mountain. I afterwards walked with my host to
the summit, from which the view is extensive and inte-
resting. I retired early to bed, and read Doring's very
unsatisfactory " Life of Herder."

July ydth. — C. von Knebel farms of the Duke of
Weimar the chase of a forest, i.e., he has a right to the
deer, &c. In this forest a hut has been erected for the
use of the foresters, and my friends planned that we
should dine there to-day, in order that I might see the
neighbourhood. After a pleasant drive, we roamed
about the forest, and I enjoyed the day. Forest scenery
wearies less than any.

July 3ij-^. — Interested in attending the Court, of
which my friend is the Lord. A sensible young man
sat as judge, and there was a sort of homage. The
proceedings were both civil and criminal, and so various
as to show an extensive jurisdiction. The most impor-
tant cases were two in which old people delivered up
all their property to their children, on condition of
being maintained by them. The judge explained to the
children their obligation, and all the parties put their
hands into his. The following were some of the punish-
ments : — One man was sentenced to a day's imprison-
ment for stealing a very little wood. Others were
fined for having false weights. One was imprisoned
for resisting gens-d'armes. Another for going into a
court-yard with a lighted pipe. The only act which
offended my notion of justice was fining a man for
killing his own pig, and selling the pork in fraud of the
butcher. The proceedings were quite patriarchal in
their form. A few days of such experience as mine to-

Empress Josephine.

427

day would give a better idea of a country than many
a long journey in mail coaches. One of the domestics
of Charles von Knebel took an oath before the judge to
be a faithful servant. This Court seems a sort of court
of premise instance. The barons in Saxony, I was
assured, are rather desirous to get rid of, than to main-
tain, their higher jurisdiction, from which there is an
appeal to the Ducal Court.

Frau von Knebel (Junr.) related some interesting
particulars of her early life. She was educated at
Nancy, at an establishment kept by Madame la H.
Among the pupils were princesses, and most of the
young ladies were of good family ; but there were a
few of low birth. Not the slightest distinction, how-
ever, was made. They were taught useful things, such
as cooking in all its branches. And certainly Frau von
Knebel, though her life has been spent chiefly in courts,
is a most excellent manager and housewife. She was
maid of honour at the Baden Court, and there used
to see the members of Napoleon's Court. She was
terribly afraid of Napoleon. Of Josephine, on whom
she attended, she spoke with rapture, as equally kind-
hearted and dignified. Josephine was several times in
tears when Frau von Knebel entered the room.

On the 2nd of August I went over to Weimar, and
had an interview with the poet. Goethe is so great
a man that I shall not scruple to copy the minutest
incidents I find in my journal, and add others which I
distinctly recollect. But, fearing repetition, I will post-
pone what I have to say of him till I finally leave Jena.
I continued to make it my head-quarters till the 13th.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

Early life

of C. von

Knebe^s

wife.

428

Knebel. — Voigt.

Chap. xvi.
1829.
Jena.

KnebeTs
faviily
history.

Frau von
Wolzogen.

I saw, of course, most of my old acquaintance. A
considerable portion of my time was spent in reading
poetry with Knebel, and, after all, I did not fully impress
him with Wordsworth's power. My journal gives the
following account of the day before that of my
departure : — Rose at six, and the morning being fine,
I took a delightful walk up the Haus-berg, and, start-
ing on the south side by way of Ziegenhain, ascended
the famous Fuchsthurm, a lofty watch-tower of great
antiquity. It has alsq modern celebrity, for Buona-
parte went up for military purposes, and it was called
Napoleonsberg. This occupied me nearly three hours.
I read an essay by Schleiermacher on the establishment
of a University at Berlin. After breakfast I had a long
chat with Knebel. He informed me of his father's life.
He was in the service of the last Margrave of Anspach,
and was almost the only nobleman whom the Margrave
associated with after he was entangled with Lady
Craven, whom Knebel himself recollected. He did not
give a favourable account of her. But the Margrave
was a kind-hearted man, and a good prince. His people
loved him. I dined with Voigt, and returned early to
Knebel, with whom I had in the evening a long and
interesting conversation. It is but too probable that
I have now seen for the last time one of the most
amiable men I ever knew, and one most truly attached
to me. He is eighty-five years of age.

I saw. on several occasions Frau von Wolzogen. She
was in the decline of life, and belonged to the com-
plainers. She appeared in the literary world as the
author of a novel, entitled " Agnes von Lilien," which was

Correspondence of Goethe and Schiller.

429

ascribed to Goethe ; and she is now remembered as the
author of a " Life of Schiller," whose wife was her sister.
She belonged to the aristocracy of Jena, and her house
was visited by the higher classes, though she was not
rich.

During my stay at Jena I had leisure for reading,
early and late. Among the books I read with most
interest was the " Correspondence of Goethe and Schil-
ler." This collection is chiefly interesting from the
contrast between the two. A delightful effect is pro-
duced by the affectionate reverence of Schiller towards
Goethe ; and infinitely below Goethe as Schiller must
be deemed in intellect and poetical power, yet as a
man he engrosses our affection. Goethe seems too
great to be an object of love, even to one so great as
Schiller. Their poetical creed, if called in question,
might be thought the same, but their practice was
directly opposed, Schiller was raised by Goethe, and
Goethe was sustained by Schiller : without Schiller,
Goethe might have mournfully quoted Pope's couplet, —

" Condemn'd in business, as in life, to trudge.
Without a second, and without a judge."

Schiller was not, indeed, a perfect judge, for that
implies a superior — at least one who can overlook ; but
his was an inspiring mind. Goethe was able to read
himself in Schiller, and understood himself from the
reflection. The book will be invaluable to future his-
torians of German literature at this its most glorious
epoch.

August 2nd. — A golden day ! Voigt and I left Jena
before seven, and in three hours were at Weimar.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

Correspon-
dence of

Goethe and
Schiller.

Visit to
Goethe,

430

Visits to Goethe.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

Goethe's
home life.

Description
of Goethe.

Having left our cards at Goethe's dwelling-house, we
proceeded to the garden-house in the park, and were
at once admitted to the great man. I was aware, by
the present of medals from him, that I was not for-
gotten, and I had heard from Hall and others that I
was expected. Yet I was oppressed by the kindness
of his reception. We found the old man in his cot-
tage in the park, to which he retires for solitude from
his town house, where are his son, his daughter-in-law,
and three grandchildren. He generally eats and drinks
alone ; and when he invites a stranger, it is to a tete-i-
tete. This is a wise sparing of his strength. Twenty-
seven years ago I thus described him : — " In Goethe I
beheld an elderly man of terrific dignity ; a penetrating
and insupportable eye — ' the eye, like Jove, to threaten
or command' — a somewhat aquiline nose, and most
expressive lips, which, when closed, seemed to be making
an effort to move, as if they could with difficulty keep
their hidden treasures from bursting forth. His step
was firm, ennobling an otherwise too corpulent body ;
there was ease in his gestures, and he had a free and
enkindled air." Now I beheld the same eye, indeed,
but the eyebrows were become thin, the cheeks were
furrowed, the lips no longer curled with fearful com-
pression, and the lofty, erect posture had sunk to a
gentle stoop. Then he never honoured me with a look
after the first haughty bow, 7iow he was all courtesy.
" Well, you are come at last," he said ; " we have waited
years for you. How is my old friend Knebel ? You
have given him youth again, I have no doubt." In his
room, in which there was a French bed without cur-

His Hotise and Rooms. — Conversatiojt.

431

tains, hung two large engravings : one, the well-known
panoramic view of Rome ; the other, the old square
engraving, an Imaginary restoration of the ancient pub-
lic buildings. Both of these I then possessed, but I
have now given them to University Hall, London. He
spoke of the old engraving as what delighted him,
as showing what the scholars thought in the fifteenth
century. The opinion of scholars is now changed. In
like manner he thought favourably of the panoramic
view, though it is incorrect, including objects which
cannot be seen from the same spot.

I had a second chat with him late in the evening.
We talked much of Lord Byron, and the subject was
renewed afterwards. To refer to detached subjects of
conversation, I ascertained that he was unacquainted
with Burns's "Vision." This is most remarkable, on
account of its close resemblance to the Ziieignung (dedi-
cation) to his own works, because the whole logic of
the two poems is the same. Each poet confesses his
infirmities ; each is consoled by the Muse — the holly-
leaf of the Scotch poet being the "veil of dew and
sunbeams" of the German. I pointed out this resem-
blance to Frau von Goethe, and she acknowledged it.

This evening I gave Goethe an account of De La-
mennais, and quoted from him a passage importing that
all truth comes from God, and is made known to us by
the Church. He held at the moment a flower in his
hand, and a beautiful butterfly was in the room. He
exclaimed, " No doubt all truth comes from God ; but
the Church ! There 's the point. God speaks to us
through this flower and that butterfly ; and that's a lan-

CHAP. XVI.

1829.

Burns and
Goethe.

Goethe on
the Church.

432

Goethe on Napoleon's Taste.

Chap. xvi.

J829.

Goethe on
Ossian,

Catholic
emancipa-
tion.

Conversa-
tions with
Goethe.

guage these Spitzhiihen don't understand." Something
led him to speak of Ossian with contempt. I remarked,
" The taste for Ossian is to be ascribed to you in a great
measure. It was Werter that set the fashion." He
smiled, and said, " That's partly true ; but it was never
perceived by the critics that Werter praised Homer
while he retained his senses, and Ossian when he was
going mad. But reviewers do not notice such things."
I reminded Goethe that Napoleon loved Ossian. " It
was the contrast with his own nature," Goethe replied.
"He loved soft and melancholy music. 'Werter 'was
among his books at St. Helena."

We spoke of the emancipation of the Catholics.
Goethe said, " My daughter will be glad to talk about
it ; I take no interest in such matters." On leaving him
the first evening, he kissed me three times. (I was
always before disgusted with man's kisses.) Voigt never
saw him do so much to any other.

He pressed me to spend some days at Weimar on
my return ; and, indeed, afterwards induced me to pro-
tract my stay. I was there from the 13th of August till
the 19th.

I cannot pretend to set down our conversations in
the order in which they occurred. On my return from
Jena, I was more aware than before that Goethe was
grown old ; perhaps, because he did not exert himself
so much. His expression of feeling was, however, con-
stantly tender and kind. He was alive to his reputa-
tion in England, and apparently mortified at the poor
account I gave of Lord Leveson Gower's translation of
" Faust ; " though I did not choose to tell him that his

Goethe's Nature Sketching.

433

noble translator, as an apology, said he did it as an
exercise while learning the language. On my mention-
ing that Lord Leveson Gower had not ventured to
translate the " Prologue in Heaven," he seemed sur-
prised. " How so .'' that is quite unobjectionable. The
idea is in Job." He did not perceive that that was
the aggravation, not the excuse. He was surprised
when I told him that the " Sorrozvs of Werter " was a
mistranslation — sorrow being Kummer — Leiden is suf-
ferings.

I spoke with especial admiration of his " Carnival
at Rome." " I shall be there next winter, and shall be
glad if the thing give me half the pleasure I had in
reading the description." — "Ay, mein Lieber, but it
won't do that ! To let you into a secret, nothing can
be more wearisome {ennuyant) than that Carnival. I
wrote that account really to relieve myself. My lodg-
ings were in the Corso. I stood on the balcony, and
jotted down everything I saw. There is not a single
item invented." And then, smiling, he said, " We poets
are much more matter-of-fact people than they who are
not poets have any idea of ; and it was the truth and
reality which made that writing so popular," This is
in harmony with Goethe's known doctrine : he was a
decided realist, and an enemy to the ideal, as he relates
in the history of his first acquaintance with Schiller.
Speaking this evening of his travels in Switzerland, he
said that he still possessed all that he has in print
called his "Acteustiicke'' (documents); that is, tavern-
bills, accounts, advertisements, &c. And he repeated
his remark that it is by the laborious collection of

VOL. ir. . V V

Chap. xvr.
1829.

Goethe's
Carnival
at Row
sketched
from
nature.

Goethe
a realist.

434

Goethe on Byron.

Chap. xvi.

1829.

Marlowe s
Faust.

Goethe's
connection
with Byron.

Goethe on
Byron.

facts that even a poetical view of nature is to be
corrected and authenticated. I mentioned Marlowe's
" Faust." He burst out into an exclamation of praise.
" How greatly is it all planned !" He had thought of
translating it. He was fully aware that Shakespeare
did not stand alone.

This, and indeed every evening, I believe, Lord
Byron was the subject of his praise. He said, " Es sind
keine Flickwortcr im Gedichte." (There is no padding
in his poetry). And he compared the brilliancy and
clearness of his style to a metal wire drawn through a
steel plate. In the complete edition of Byron's works,
including the " Life " by Moore, there is a statement
of the connection between Goethe and Byron. At
the time of my interviews with Goethe, Byron's " Life "
was actually in preparation. '.Goethe was by no means
indifferent to the account which was to be given to the
world of his own relations to the English poet, and was
desirous of contributing all in his power to its com-
pleteness. For that purpose he put into my hands the
lithographic dedication of " Sardanapalus " to himself,
and all the original papers which had passed betAveen
them. He permitted me to take these to my hotel,
and to do with them what I pleased ; in other words, I
was to copy them, and add such recollections as I was
able to supply of Goethe's remarks on Byron. These
filled a very closely-written folio letter, which I de-
spatched to England ; but Moore afterwards assured
me that he had never received it.

One or two of the following remarks will be found as
significant as anything Goethe has written of Byron.

Ejuiui the Mother of the Muses.

435

It was a satisfaction to me to find that Goethe preferred
to all the other serious poems of Byron, the " Heaven
and Earth," though it seemed almost satire when he
exclaimed, " A bishop might have written it ! " He
added, " Byron should have lived to execute his voca-
tion."— "And that was?" I asked, "To dramatize
the Old Testament. What a subject under his hands
would the Tower of Babel have been !" He continued :
" You must not take it ill ; but Byron was indebted for
the profound views he took of the Bible to the ennui he
suffered from it at school." Goethe, it will be remem-
bered, in one of his ironical epigrams, derives his
poetry from ennni (Langeweile) ; he greets her as the
Mother of the Muses. It was with reference to the
poems of the Old Testament that Goethe praised the
views which Byron took of Nature ; they were equally
profound and poetical. " He had not," Goethe said,
" like me, devoted a long life to the study of Nature,
and yet in all his works I found but two or three pas-
sages I could have wished to alter."

I had the courage to confess my inability to relish
the serious poems of Byron, and to intimate my dis-
satisfaction with the comparison generally made be-
tween Manfred and Faust. I remarked, " Faust had
nothing left but to sell his soul to the Devil when he
had exhausted all the resources of science in vain ; but
Manfred's was a poor reason — his passion for Astarte."
He smiled, and said, " That is true." But then he fell
back on the indomitable spirit of Manfred. Even at
the last he was not conquered. Power in all its forms
Goethe had respect for. This he had in common with

F F 2

Chap. xvr.
1829.

Ennui the
Mother of
the Muses.

The
indomitable
in Manfred,

436

Goethe on Byron.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

On Byron s

Vision of

yudgment.

Carlyle. And the impudence of Byron's satire he felt
and enjoyed. I pointed out " The Deformed Trans-
formed," as being really an imitation of " Faust," and
was pleased to find that Goethe especially praised this
piece.*

I read to him the " Vision of Judgment," explaining
the obscurer allusions. He enjoyed it as a child might,
but his criticisms scarcely went beyond the exclama-
tions— " Too bad !" " Heavenly !" " Unsurpassable !"
He praised, however, especially the speeches of Wilkes
and Junius, and the concealment of the countenance of
the latter. " Byron has surpassed himself." Goethe
praised Stanza IX. for its clear description. He re-
peated Stanza X., and emphatically the last two lines,
recollecting that he was himself eighty years of age.
Stanza XXIV. he declared to be sublime : —

" But bringing up the rear of this bright host,

A spirit of a different aspect waved
• His wings, like thunder-clouds above some coast

Whose barren beach with frequent wrecks is paved ;
His brow was like the deep when tempest-toss'd;

Fierce and unfathomable thoughts engraved
Eternal wrath on his immortal face.
And where he gazed a gloom pervaded space."

Goethe concurred in my suggested praise of Stanzas
XIII., XIV., XV. Indeed Goethe was in this hke
Coleridge, that he was by no means addicted to con-
tradiction. This encourages those who might not
otherwise venture on obtruding a sentiment. He did
not reject the preference I expressed for Byron's satiri-
cal poems, nor my suggestion that to " Don Juan " a

* Byron himself denies that "Faust" suggested "Manfred." See a note
in the " Works," Vol. IX., p. 71.

Samson Agoitistes."

437

motto might have been taken from Mephistopheles'
speech aside to the student who asked his opinion of
medicine : —

" Ich bin des trockenen Zeugs doch satt.
Ich will den iichten Teufel spielen."

Byron's verses on George IV., he said, were the
sublime of hatred. I took an opportunity to mention
Milton, and found Goethe unacquainted with " Samson
Agonistes." I read to him the first part, to the end of
the scene with Delilah. He fully conceived the spirit
of it, though he did not praise Milton with the warmth
with which he eulogized Byron, of whom he said that
"the like would never come again ; he was inimitable."
Ariosto was not so daring as Byron in the " Vision of
Judgment."

Goethe said Samson's confession of his guilt was in
a better spirit than anything in Byron. " There is fine
logic in all the speeches." On my reading Delilah's
vindication of herself, he exclaimed : — " That is capital ;
he has put her in the right." To one of Samson's
speeches he cried out, " Oh, the parson ! " He thanked
me for making him acquainted with this poem, and
said, " It gives me a higher opinion of Milton than I
had before. It lets me more into the nature of his
mind than any other of his works."

I read to him Coleridge's " Fire, Famine, and
Slaughter;" his praise was faint. I inquired whether he
knew the name of Lamb. " Oh, yes ! Did he not write
a pretty sonnet on his own name .-'" Charles Lamb,
though he always affected contempt for Goethe, yet was
manifestly pleased that his name was known to him.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

Samson
Agonistes.

Goethe -on
Milton.

438

Goethe on Schiller.

Chap. xvi.

1829.

IVieland's
Bust.

Goethe on
Schiller.

I informed Goethe of my possession of Wieland's
bust by Schadow * He said, " It is like a lost child
found. The Duchess Amelia sent for Schadow to do it,
and when done gave it to Wieland. He died when the
French were here, and we were all away. Wieland's
goods were sold by auction, and we heard that the
bust was bought by an Englishman. Vestigia nulla
retrorsum." I related to him how I had bought it at
the recommendation of Flaxman, who deemed it " a
perfect work." Goethe then said, " You must be sensible
that it ought to be here. A time will come when you
can no longer enjoy it. Take care that it comes here
hereafter." This I promised. And I have in my will
given it to the Grand Duke, in trust, for the public
library at Weimar. Goethe expressed to me his
pleasure that I had retained so lively a recollection of
Weimar at its " schme Zeit^' when Schiller, Herder, and
Wieland all lived. I remember no other mention of
Herder, nor did I expect it. Goethe spoke of Wieland
as a man of genius, and of Schiller with great regard.
He said that Schiller's rendering of the witch-scenes in
"Macbeth" was "detestable." "But it was his way;
you must let every man have his own character." This
was a tolerance characteristic of Goethe.

I have already mentioned Goethe's fondness for
keeping portrait memorials, and can only consider it
as an extreme instance of this that I was desired to
go to one Schmeller to have my portrait taken — a head
in crayons, frightfully ugly, and very like. The artist
told me that he had within a few years done for Goethe

* Vide p. 108.

Goethe on H. C. R.

439

more than three hundred. It is the kind of Andenken
he preferred. They are all done in the same style — full-
face. I sat to Schmeller also for a portrait for Knebel
— a profile, and much less offensive.

In this way I spent five evenings with Goethe. When
he took leave of me, it was very kindly, and he re-
quested me to write every three or four months, when I
came to an interesting place. But this I did not ven-
ture to do. I went upstairs and looked over his rooms.
They had little furniture, but there were interesting
engravings on the walls. His bed was without curtains —
a mere couch. I saw much of his daughter-in-law ; he
is said to have called her, " Ein verriickter Engel" (a
crazy angel), and the epithet is felicitous.

Goethe, in his correspondence with Zelter, has filled
a couple of pages with an account of this visit. He
speaks of me as a sort of missionary on behalf of
English poetry. He was not aware that I had not the
courage to name the poet to whom I was and am most
attached — Wordsworth ; for I knew that there were
too many dissonances of character between them. As
Southey remarked to me, " How many sympathies, how
many dispathies do I feel with Goethe ! " *

* This correspondence of Goethe with Zelter continued to within a few
hours of Goethe's death. Indeed these oldest friends died within so short a
time of each other, that neither heard of the other's death. Goethe used to
give to Zelter an account of all that occurred to him in the way of gossip,
books, visits, &c., and in my visit to Heidelberg, in 1834, I met with the ex-
tract which I now translate. It is in the fifth volume of the " Correspondence."
After mentioning Mucewitz, the Polish poet, Goethe proceeds : " At the same
time there was an Englishman with us, who had studied at Jena at the begin-
ning of the century, and who had since that time pursued German literature in
a way of which no one could form an idea. He was so truly initiated into the
grounds of merit in our situation, that if I had wished to do so, and as we are

Chap. xvi.
1829.

Five even-
ings with
Goethe.

Goethe on
H. C. R.

440

A t Court. — Weimar.

Chap. xvi.

[In 1832 Mr. S. Naylor, Junr., sent to Mr. Robinson
the following extract from a letter written by Frau
von Goethe to himself This extract can have no place
so suitable as here : — ]

" If it be possible that the glowing forms of Italy
have not wholly obliterated in him the pale image of a
Northern, tell him (this him is Robinson), that we all
look for him with longing, and regard him as a literary
missionary, who will bring us the right articles of faith."

The day after my arrival at Weimar, I met the
Chamberlain of the Duchess Dowager (the Court were
away). He said, " You must call. The Grand Duchess
knows you are here. Go with me now." I objected,

accustomed to do towards foreigners, there was no casting a mist before his
eyes. From his conversation it resulted that, for twenty years and more, highly
cultivated Englishmen have been coming to Germany, and acquiring correct
information concerning the personal, assthetical, and moral relations of those
who may be called our forefathers. Of Klopstock's ' Verknocherung '
(Ossification) he related strange things. Then he seemed a kind of missionary
of English literature, and read to me and my daughter, together and apart,
single poems. Byron's ' Heaven and Earth ' it was very agreeable to become
acquainted with by the eye and ear at once, as I held a second copy in my hand.
At last he drew my attention to Milton's ' Samson Agonistes," and read it with
me. It is to be remarked that in this we acquire a knowledge of a predecessor
of Lord Byron, who is as grand and comprehensive [grandios U7id umsichtig)
as Byron himself. But, to be sure, the successor is as vast and wildly varied as
the other appears simple and stately."

In a later letter, speaking of Handel's "Samson," Goethe remarks — I
quote from memory — that a literary friend had, in the preceding summer, read
Milton's " Samson" to him, and that he never before met with so perfect an
imitation of the antique in style and spirit.

I have not the slightest recollection of having mentioned Klopstock at all,
and cannot think what he referred to. Voigt says he never knew Goethe
forget anything, so perfect was his memory to the last, and that, therefore, I
probably did speak about Klopitock. - H. C. R.

TJic Grand Duchess.

441

that I was not dressed. "That's of no consequence.
She will be sure not to see you." And a message being
sent, the Chamberlain was desired to invite me to
dinner. I was engaged with Goethe, but knew that
these invitations are commands. Next morning a like
invitation came, and again on Monday. On the last
evening of my stay at Weimar, wishing to accept an
invitation to a party elsewhere, I asked the Chamberlain
how I could avoid being invited by the Dowager. " You
must ask the Grand Duchess for leave to quit the
country," he said. Such is Court etiquette !

These three dinners do not supply much matter for
these Reminiscences. The Grand Duchess Louise, a
Princess of Hesse-Darmstadt, was a woman highly and
universally esteemed. Of her interview with Napoleon,
after the battle of Jena, I have already given an account.
She says my narrative* is quite correct, and added one
circumstance. Napoleon said to her : " Madam, they
will force me to declare myself Emperor of the West."

I was received by her with great cordiality. She either
recollected me, or affected to do so. She was above
seventy, looking old, and I thought remarkably like
Otway Cave. The conversation at table was unreserved
and easy. One day there was a popular festival in the
town — Vogel-Schiessen (bird-shooting). Here the Grand
Duchess attended, and it was the etiquette for all who
were known to her, to stand near her, till she had seen
and saluted them, and then each one retired. At these
dinners there was a uniform tone of dignified courtesy,
and I left her with an agreeable impression. Yet I

• Vide pages loi, 102.

Chap. xvi.

1829.

The
Duchess
Dowager.

The Grand
Duchess.

Dinner at
the Grand
Duchess's.

442

Leipzig and Dresden.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

The Court
on ducal
alliances.

SchlegeV s
Julius
CcBsar.

Dresden.

Picture
gallery.

could not but feel low when I recollected the change
that had 'taken place since 1804, when the Duchess
Amelia, Graf Einsiedel, Fraulein Geckhausen, and Wie-
land, were present. My journal refers to but one sub-
ject of conversation — the marriage of the Duke of St.
Albans with Mrs. Coutts. That a duke should marry
an actress, who had preserved her character, was termed
noble at the Duchess's table.

August i^th. — This certainly belongs to the uninte-
resting days of my journey. I was travelling through
a dull country in a close carriage with uninteresting
people. But I had been so much stimulated at
Weimar, that the change was not altogether unpleasant.
I was glad to rest. Arrived at Leipzig soon after five.
Went to the theatre, where was played Schlegel's
translation of "Julius Caesar." I saw it with pleasure,
though the actors appeared to me by no means good.
Cassius was grave, Brutus sentimental, Caesar insig-
nificant. But that was not altogether the fault of the
actor. Portia wa^s petite. I could recall the English in
most of the scenes, and thought the translation admir-
able.

August 20th. — Reached Dresden towards evening,
and fixed myself for a few days at the Hotel de Berlin.
During these days I was frequently at the famous
picture gallery, but, conscious of my want of knowledge
in fine art, I shall merely say that I paid my homage to
the " Madonna di San Sisto,"* which still in my eyes
retains its place as the finest picture in the world. But for
me the great attraction of Dresden was Ludwig Tieck,

* Vide page 45.

Ltidwig Tieck.

443

who was then among the German poets to Goethe
" proximus, longo sed proximus intervallo." Tieck and
his wife Hve in the same house with Grafinn Finkenstein,
a lady of fortune. I was received with not only great
politeness, but much cordiality. He recognized me at
once. A large party of ladies and gentlemen came to
hear him read. He is famous for his talent as a reader,
and I was not surprised at it. His voice is melodious,
and without pretension or exaggeration he gave great
effect to what he read.

Next day I dined with him. Herr von Stachelberg
and others were there. The conversation general and
agreeable. In politics we seemed pretty well agreed.
All friends to Greece. A triple alliance, between Eng-
land, France, and Austria, talked of. Thank God ! the
governments are poor. Tieck showed me his English
books, and talked of Shakespeare. Not only does he
believe that the disputed plays are by him (most
certainly " Lord Cromwell "), but even some others.
He calls Goethe's very great admiration of Byron an
infatuation. The " Hebrew Melodies " Tieck likes, but
not " Manfred." In the evening read with pleasure, in
the Foreign Review, an article on the German play-
wrights.*

August 2'^rd. — At the Catholic Chapel from eleven
till twelve. The music delighted me beyond any I
ever heard. At six went to Tieck again, with whom I
spent four hours most agreeably. He read his prologue
to Goethe's " Faust," which is to be performed on
Thursday, and also his translation of " The Pinner of

* By Carlyle.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

Ludwig
Tieck.

Dinner at
L. Tieck s.

Tieck' s

prologue to

Faust.

444

Ticck on English Classics.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

Tieck's
readings.

Wakefield."* It is a sort of dramatized ballad. The
Pinner is a loyal subject of King Edward, thrashes
traitors and everybody he meets with, and is a match
for Robin Hood. We had a deal of literary gossip.
Tieck's literary opinions seem to me for the most part
true. He appreciates our 'classics, Richardson and
Fielding. But he likes even Smollett's " Peregrine
Pickle." He loves Sterne, Of Lamb he spoke warmly.
He expressed his great admiration of Goethe, but freely
criticised him. He thinks Goethe's way of turning into
poetry real incidents, memoirs, &c., has occasioned the
composition of his worst pieces.

August 24//^. — Another charming three hours with
Tieck, with whom I dined. I have made up my mind
to stay till after Thursday. I shall thus disturb my
original plan ; but I shall be a gainer on the whole.
Tieck is, indeed, far from being Goethe's equal, but I
enjoy his company more. Accompanied Bottiger to the
Grafinn von der R , a sort of patroness, aged seventy-
five. The poet she patronized was Tiedge, author of
" Urania," a didactic poem.-j* He was more like Tieck
in name than in any other respect. The Countess
is a character, and honoured me with a particular
account of her infirmities. She is, without doubt, a
very estimable person, and I am glad to have seen her.
At seven I returned to Tieck, and heard him read
Holbein's capital play, "The Chattering Barber," to

* " A Pleasant Conceyted Comedie of George-a-Greene : The Pinner of
Wakefield." London, 1599. 4to, An anonymous play " sundry times
acted by the seruants of the Earl of Sussex." It has been attributed to John
Heywood and to Robert Greene.

t Christopher Augustus Tiedge. Born 1752. Died 1841.

Goetlie's Eightieth Birthday.

445

which he gave full effect. He read also a little comedy,
"The Pfalzgraf."

August 2$th. — Preparing for my departure. Had no
time for sight-seeing, but in the evening heard Tieck
read " Richard H." Felt low at leaving the place.
The trouble of getting off, the apprehended solitude,
annoyances at the custom-house, search of books, &c,,
all trouble me.

August 26th. — A family dinner-party at Tieck's.
Returned early to my room, where I read a most
delightful iV(3w//<? by him, "The 15th November," On
that day a dyke burst in Holland, and a family were
saved by a sort of idiot, who, having suddenly lost all
his faculties, except that of shipbuilding, built a ship
from a kind of miraculous presentiment. Nothing can
exceed the beauty of the representation, however im-
probable the story may be. W. Schlegel has said that
the only four perfect narrators he knows are Boccaccio,
Cervantes, Goethe, and Tieck. I returned to Tieck's
at six. A large party were assembled to hear him
read the " Midsummer Night's Dream," which he did
delightfully. I prefer his comic reading to his tragic.

August 2'jth. — This day terminated what I consider
my preliminary German journey. Dined with Tieck ;
the family all alone. A very interesting evening.
"Faust" was performed for the first time in Germany,
in honour of Goethe's birthday. To-morrow, the 28th,
. he will be eighty years old. I greatly enjoyed the
performance. The prologue, by Tieck, was a beautiful
eulogy on Goethe. The house was crowded. Faust
was played by Devrient. He looked the philosopher

Chap. xvr.
1829.

Tieck's
"The \^th
November."

Faust per-
formed in
celebration
of Goethe's
birthday.

446

Schellmg.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

Carlsbad.

Schelling.

On the
Bavarian
Govern-
ment.

well, and his rich and melodious voice was very-
effective ; but he pleased me less when he became the
gallant seducer. Pauli was Mephistopheles. He was
too passionate occasionally, and neither looked nor

talked enough like the D . The scene with the

student was very well got up. In general, however, the
wise sayings were less heeded than the spectacle. The
Blocksberg afforded a grand pantomime, Margaret
was rendered deeply affecting by Mademoiselle Gleig.
After the play, I found at the poet's house a number
of friends, congratulating him on the success of the
evening's undertaking. Like performances took place
in many of the larger towns of Germany in honour of
the great poet.

On the 28/// of August I set out on my Italian tour.
I passed through Teplitz and Carlsbad (Goethe's
favourite resort) to Ratisbon. At Carlsbad, I ventured
to introduce myself to the not-yet-forgotten famous
metaphysician, Schelling. I had been a pupil of his,
but an insignificant one, and never a partisan, I
believe he did not recollect me. He talked with some
constraint during our walk in the Wandelbahn, but
meeting him afterwards at dinner, I found him commu-
nicative, and were I remaining at Carlsbad, his company
would be very pleasant to me. The most agreeable
part of his conversation was that which showed me I
was wrong in supposing him to have become a Roman
Catholic. On the contrary, he spoke in a tone of
seeming disappointment both of Schlegel and Tieck for
their change. He spoke of the King of Bavaria as a
benevolent, liberally inclined, and wise sovereign. Far

On Bavarian Government.

447

from being, as it was once feared he might be, the tool
of the Jesuitical party, he is aware how dangerous
that party is. He is, nevertheless, religious, and all his
ministers are Roman Catholics ; not because they are
Catholics, but because his Protestant States do not
supply the fitting men. The Minister of the Interior is
a convert, but he has brought to the ministry the liberal
po.tions of his Protestant education. Though taking
more interest in public matters than Goethe, Schelling
yet said Goethe was right in disregarding politics,
conscious, as he must be, that the composition of one
of his great works would be a blessing for ages, while
the political state of Germany might be but of short
duration, Schelling regards Tieck as hardly an appre-
ciator of Goethe. He spoke of Uhland and Graf
Platen, author of the " Verhdngnissvolle Gabel" and
other satirical works, as the best of the new generation
of poets, I shunned philosophy, but remarked that
England showed no inclination to receive the German
philosophers. He answered that at present nothing
had appeared suitable for translation. He spoke of
Coleridge and Carlyle as men of talent, who are ac-
quainted with German philosophy. He says Carlyle is
certainly the author of the articles in the Edinburgh
Review.

At Ratisbon, I embarked on the Danube for Vienna,
passing those fine town.s, Passau and Linz, Vienna
had little to attract me. I had a letter of introduction
to the celebrated preacher Veit, a Jesuit, whose sermons
had produced a great effect upon the Vienna populace. I
called on him at the monastery, a sort of public school,

Chap. xvr.
1829.

Veit, the
famous
preacher.

448

Vienna. — Veifs Preaching.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

Veit's
preaching.

of which he was the head. He had the appearance
more of a man of the world than of an enthusiast, and
his language was perfectly liberal. He said, " I believe
firmly in all the doctrines of the Church. The Church
never errs, but Churchmen do err. And all attempt to
compel men by violence to enter the Church is contrary
to the Gospel." His main objection to the Protestants
is their ascetic habits. He spoke of Pascal as a pietist,
using that word in an unfavourable sense. He declared
himself an anti-ultramontanist, and assented to a remark
of mine, that an enlightened Romanist in Germany is
nearer to a pious Protestant than to a doctor of Sala-
manca. Veit wishes to travel, and to learn English. It
would, he says, be worth while to learn English if only
for the sake of reading Shakespeare. This interview
was less remarkable than the sermon I heard him
preach in the crowded church of the Rigoristen (the
order of which he is the head). His manner is singular.
He half shuts his eyes, and with little action speaks in
a familiar style, in a tone of mixed earnestness and
humour. The discourse was quite moral, and very
efficient. Its subject, pharisaic pride. The style was
occasionally vehement. He introduced the story of the
Lord of a manor going in a plain dress to the Hall
on a rent-day, when his steward was feasting the
tenants. He slipped in unperceived, and was jostled by
the greedy company to the bottom of the table. When
the steward saw him, he saluted him with reverence, and
reproached the people with their ignorance. Then the
preacher, changing his tone, exclaimed, " Ihr seid die
wahren Krdhivinkler'' (ye are the real Gothamites) ; and

Veifs Action in tJie Pulpit.

449

producing a huge crucifix from the bottom of the pulpit,
he cried out in a screaming voice, " Here's your God,
and you don't know him ! " The manifest want of logic
in the application of the tale did not prevent its having
effect. Every one seemed touched, for it was the
upstart pride of the citizens he managed to attack.
He brought Huntington to my recollection, but wanted
his perfect style.

Chap. xvi.
1829.

VOL. 11.

G G

450

Venice.

Chap.xvii.

Venice,

CHAPTER XVII.

ITALY.

From Vienna I proceeded, through Styria and Car-
niola, to Trieste, and after a digression to Fiume, to
visit my old friend Grafton Smith, entered Italy at
Venice, the rich, but / say the romantic. I had but
a sort of feverish pleasure there, and have no wish to go
again. And yet the St. Mark's Place, and the Duomo,
built with barbaric pomp, the ducal palace, and the
Rialto, and the canals, and Palladio's churches, are worth
a pilgrimage, and I am almost ashamed of what I have
written. But I could not help thinking of the odious
Governments. I must here translate one of Goethe's
Venetian epigrams : " Laboriously wanders the pilgrim,
and will he find the saint ? Will he see and hear the
man who wrought the miracles .-' No ! Time has taken
him away, and all that belongs to him. Only his skull
and a few of his bones are preserved. Pilgrims are we —
we who visit Italy. It is only a scattered bone which
we honour with faith and joy." This is perfect as to
thought ; the magic of the verse I cannot give.

On the I'jth of November I entered Rome.

[In the following account of Mr. Robinson's stay in
Rome and elsewhere, the extracts will have especial

Rome.

451

regard to what is of personal interest, and will not
include even a mention of all the places visited by
him. It was in connection with this journey that he
wrote to Miss Wordsworth : " That thing called one's
self, loses much of itself when travelling, for it becomes
a mere thing with two eyes and two ears, and has no
more individuality than a looking-glass." And Mr.
Robinson says in a letter to his brother, December 1 7th,
of this year, " I never was more busy in my life. I
have Rome as well as Italian to learn. Every fine day
I visit one or more of the curiosities of this wonderful
city. It is itself a little world, and comprehends within
its walls a greater number of objects of high interest —
either historical memorials or works of fine art — than I
have ever seen in all my former journeys put together.
But do not imagine that I am going to give you an
account of what there is to be seen in Rome — the
subject is so immense. I will, however, give you some
account of what occurs to me there."]

On the 20th I went in search of a few acquaintances
whom I expected to meet. I found a very obliging
friend in the Wurtemberg minister, Kolle, whom I first
saw at Nicolai's in Berlin ; I owe him a great deal.
On calling upon Alexander Torlonia, to whom I had
shown attentions in England, I found he had either
forgotten me or affected to do so.* I took an oppor-
tunity, a few days after, to say to his half-brother :
" I am delighted to find that my memory is better
than I feared — at least it is better than your brother

♦ This \vas^the young Italian whom, with his tutor, Mr. Robinson introduced
to the Wordsworths in 1816. See p. 18.

j<rjQ.r-"<.-jj G G 2

Chap. XVII
1829.

Kolle.

Torlonia s

short
memory.

452

Kdstner.

Chap. XVII,
1829.

Kastnct;

Miss
Burney.

Alexander's. We were a week together, and I
recollected him in an instant ; but although he is the
younger man he cannot recollect me." I believe I
was understood.

November 2^th. — Carried Mrs, Benecke's letter of
introduction to one of the most amiable of men, Kast-
ner, the Hanoverian Minister to the Court of Rome.
And as our English bigotry did not permit us to have
a Minister, he supplied the office of master of the
ceremonies to all the English. He was a man of taste,
and most kind in his behaviour, — not at all a politician.
He was considered to have an undignified manner, but
was loved by every one. He was fond of talking Eng-
lish, and his English was very amusing, though the
tales told of him in this respect were possibly apocry-
phal. It was said, for instance, that he declared he
had taken a young lady under his protection because
she was so dissolute and abandoned. He made for me
a selection of plaster casts of antique gems, of which
I am proud. He was Evangelical in his religious views,
and partook of Benecke's opinions of Goethe. But
virtu was more his pursuit than politics or speculation
of any kind.

November 2$th. — When I passed through Florence I
was told by a stranger that he had been travelling with
Miss Burney, a younger sister of Madame d'Arblay :
he gave a promising account of her, and I begged him
to introduce me. On my telling her of being well
acquainted with her brother, the admiral, my vanity
was a little hurt by finding that she had never heard
of me. She informed me that she had set out on

Miss Burney.

453

this journey with a female friend, who had deserted
her at Dover, not daring to cross the water in rough
weather. " I could not," said Miss Burney, " afford to
lose the money I had paid for my journey (board
included^ all the way to Milan. So I ventured alone,
without servant or acquaintance. My travelling com-
panions were all respectable, and I shall soon be at
Rome." I said we should be sure to meet there, and
offered her my services when we should meet again,
which she accepted at once. I had not forgotten her,
when to-day on coming home I found upon my table
a letter from Ayrton to me, introducing Miss Burney.
"Who brought this.?" said I to our landlord. "The
lady." — " What lady ?" — " The lady who is occupying
the rooms below." — " Is she at home ? " — " Yes." I went
down, and was received by her with a hearty laugh.
She told me that, bringing many letters from England,
she had separated them into bundles, and not opened
those addressed to Rome until now. Our irregular
introduction to each other was now legalized, and we
became well acquainted, as will appear hereafter. Our
acquaintance ripened into friendship, which did not end
but with her life. She was a very amiable person, of
whom I think with great respect. She at once con-
fessed that she was obliged to be economical, and I
made an arrangement for her which reduced her ex-
penses considerably. I had before this time found that
the German artists dined at a respectable, but cheap
restaurant in the Corso, and I occasionally saw ladies
there — Italian, not English. There were several rooms,
one of them small, with a single table, which our party

CHAP.XVII.

1829.

Economical
arrange-
ments.

454

CJuvalier Bunsen.

Chap.xvii.
1829.

Mr. and
Mrs. Finch.

Bunsen.

could nearly fill. This I frequently engaged, and I intro-
duced Miss Burney to our party. She became our pet,
and generally dined with us. When I was engaged else-
where, there were several proud to take her. Our party
had increased. Mrs. Payne had given me a letter of intro-
duction to Mr. Finch — a character — and to-day my old
friend KoUe offered to introduce me to him. Mr. Finch
was married to a lady who at once claimed me for an
acquaintance. She was a Miss Thompson, who used
to attend the Attic Chest meetings at Porden's.* She
had two sisters residing with her, as well as a nephew,
a young M.D. — Dr. Seth Thompson.

This same day was rendered further remarkable by
an introduction, through the Chevalier Kastner, to one
who has a European reputation, and whose acquaint-
ance I still enjoy. This was the Chevalier Bunsen, a man
of whom I do not think it becomes me to say more than
what appertains to my personal intercourse with him.
I was not at first aware of his eminent qualities. My
journal describes him as "a fair, smooth-faced, thick-
set man, who talks, though he does not look, like a man
of talents." He was in the habit of receiving, once a
week, at his house, his German friends, and on another
day his English friends, his wife being an English lady
— a Miss Waddington. Chevalier Bunsen very cour-
teously said to me, " I consider you both German and
English, and shall expect you both days " — a privilege
I did not hesitate to avail myself of. Whatever my
fears might be of feeling alone at Rome, I felt myself,
in a week, not encumbered, but full of acquaintance.

* Vide Vol. I., p 376.

Tfiorwaldsen and Gibson.

455

On the 30th I was introduced to Thorwaldsen in his
studio, and conceived a higher opinion of him as an
artist than of Canova. I heard him give an account
of some of his works, especially the scheme of a series
of colossal figures, for which a church has been since
built at Copenhagen — the objection raised by some of
the bishops that they tend to idolatry being overcome.
Before the portico and in the pediment were to be
placed, and probably now are, St. John the Baptist, and
the various classes of the human race receiving instruc-
tion ; in the vestibules, the aybils and prophets ; in the
nave, the apostles ; Christ before the head altar. Many
of these I possess in engravings, as I do casts in minia-
ture of the triumphs of Alexander. What I have to say
personally of Thorwaldsen I shall say hereafter.

On this day I first saw Eastlake, now the President
of our Royal Academy, and Gibson, the sculptor. At
this time Rome was my study as no other place could
ever be. I read what I could get, — Forsyth, one of the
few books which is a voice, not an echo, the style
proving the originality ; and " Rome in the Nineteenth
Century," a pert, flippant book, the only claim to origi-
nality being that, in a commonplace way, it opposes
common notions ; but being written smartly, and with
great labour, it has a certain popularity.

December 6th. — A stroll in the Isola Tiberina. How
filthy a spot ; yet how magnificent a plate it has supplied
to Piranesi ! " Sir," said a king's messenger to me one
day, " don't believe what travellers tell about Rome. It
is all a humbug. Rome is more like Wapping than any
place I know." — " That man is no fool," said Flaxman,

Chap.xvii.

1829.

Thor-
waldsen.

Eastlake

and

Gibson, the

R.A.s.

Studies.

Rome
likened to
Wapping.

456

The Sights.

Chap. XVII.

The
Capitol.

Exercises
in antique
physiog-
nomy.

Guido's
Aurora.

Tower of
the Capitol.

Coliseum.

who laughed on my repeating this. " Of course he could
not understand, perhaps he did not see, the antiquities ;
but some of the finest are in places that resemble
Wapping in general appearance."

On the 7th I first saw the marbles of the Capitol.
The most noticeable part is the gallery of busts,
arranged in classes. That of the philosophers afforded a
trial of skill to Miss Burney and myself in guessing. " In
general," says my journal, " each head seemed worthy
of its name," but not one Plato among many there
satisfied me. Had I taken my philosophy from the
head of any master, I must have been an Epicurean.
Democritus is really grinning ; I took him for a slave.
Cicero and Demosthenes express passion rather than
thought. Cicero, however, reminded me of Goethe.
The same day I saw Guido's " Aurora," the first picture
that made me heartily love fresco painting. We went
also to the Barberini Palace. Here are the " Andrea
Corsini," by Guido, and a " Fornarina " by Raphael,
offensive to me in spite of myself; and the far-famed
Cenci. Kolle, a dogmatist in art, declared it to be
neither a Cenci nor a Guido. Without its name, he
said, it would not fetch ;^io. In defiance of my monitor,
I could not but imagine it to be painfully expressive of
sweetness and innocence. What did Shelley hold the
picture to be when he wrote his tragedy t

December loth. — Ascended the tower of the Capitol.
That would be enough for any one day. A panoramic
view — ancient Rome on one side, and modern Rome on
the other. The same evening I had another glorious
view, from the top of the Coliseum, by moonlight.

Year's Retrospect.

457

Afterwards a party at Lord Northampton's. Having
had a lesson in the forenoon from Cola, and seen
the Palazzo Doria, my journal notes this as a day
of an unparalleled variety of enjoyment, and with
reason.

December i$th. — Mr. Finch related anecdotes of Dr.
Parr. At a party at Charles Burney's, being called
on to name a toast, he gave the third Greek scholar
in Europe. Being called on to explain who this
might be, he said, " Our excellent host. The first
Greek scholar is my friend here" (indicating Person).
" Don't blush, Dicky. The second, modesty does not
permit me to name." Now and then Parr's rudeness
was checked. Asking a lady what she thought of his
Spital sermon, she answered, " My opinion is expressed
in the first five words of the sermon itself, 'Enough,
and more than enough.' " He was out of humour for
the rest of the evening.

At the close of the year I wrote in my journal : " The
old year is dying away with enviable repose. I do not
know when I have spent a more quiet New Year's Eve,
as I do not recollect when I have passed a year of more
intense and varied personal enjoyment. But it has
brought a great calamity into my brother's house — the
loss of my nephew's only child, Caroline. She died from
the effects of an attack of scarlet fever. She was one of
the most fascinating creatures I ever saw, and was doated
on both by parents and grandfather." The sentiment
expressed in those few sentences is associated with a
religious service in the church of Gesu in the evening.
Whether owing to the music itself, aided by the edifice.

Chap.xvii.
1825.

Dr. Parr

Close of the
year

458

Overbeck. — Ranch.

Chap.xvii.
1830.

Winter
occupations.

Overbeck.

Rauch.

TheKneipe.

Goethe.

or to the power of the Italian voice, I know not, but
the choir seemed to me to express an earnest, not a
merely formal, service.

1830.

I raay say in general of the winter season I passed in
Rome, that my days were divided between the not dis-
cordant occupations of studying the topography of the
city, with Nibbi in hand, and the language of Italy, with
the aid of Dr. Cola ; and that my evenings were seldom
disengaged. The parties of the Prussian Minister and
of Lord Northampton were of weekly occurrence ; occa-
sional dinners and frequent evening gatherings at the
houses of other friends prevented my time from ever
hanging heavily.

Jatiitary yth. — This evening, at Bunsen's, I was struck
by the appearance of a tall man with lank hair and
sallow cheeks. I pointed him out to a German as the
specimen of an EngHsh Methodist. He laughed, and
exclaimed, " Why, that is the Roman Catholic convert,
Overbeck, — a rigid ascetic and melancholy devotee."
Rauch, the great Prussian sculptor, was also there. I
chatted with him, but have no recollection of his person.

Jmiuary 22nd. — Westphal, a German scholar, whom I
met at Lord Northampton's parties, took me to a very
interesting spot, which all Germans of taste should hold
sacred — the Kneipe, or pot-house, in which Goethe made
those assignations which are so marvellously described
in his Roman Elegies. The spot in which I ate and
drank was one of the vaults in the Theatre of Marcellus ;
the stone wall was black with the smoke of centuries.

Bon Mot of Byron's.

459

and a wooden table and wooden benches formed all the
furniture of the den. The contrast between such a
Spelunca — Goethe's own appellation — and the refined
taste which could there conceive and give form to crea-
tions which will be the delight of cultivated minds in
all ages, was to me a lesson of humanity. The German
artists ought here to place an inscription, which, though
unintelligible to the many, would be most instructive
to the few ; — a new lesson, certainly, in archaeology, but
in conformity with the lesson taught by Niebuhr and
his followers, who delight to have that which is in com-
mon in ancient and modern institutions. There might
be a reference to the Elegy in which Amor trims the
lamp, and thinks of the time when he rendered the
same service to his triumvirs : —

"Amor schiiret die Lamp'indess und denket der Zeiten,
Da er den niimlichen Dienst seinen Triumvim gethan."

February 2nd. — At Finch's. He repeated a retort
uttered in his (Finch's) house by Lord Byron. Ward had
been a Whig, and became Ministerial. " I wonder what
could make me turn Whig again," said Ward. " That
I can tell you," said Byron. "They have only to
re- Ward you."

Febrtmry 2ist. — At one of the most remarkable
dinners I ever partook of. It was at Prince Gargarin's,
the Russian Minister. But it was the eye, not the
palate, that was peculiarly gratified. The apartments
were splendid, and the dining-hall illuminated by eighty-
nine wax lights. The peculiarity of the dinner lay in
this — that there was nothing on the table on which the
eye of the gourmand could rest. In the centre of the

Chap.xvii.

1830.

Bvron to
Ward.

Russian

Minister s

dinner.

460

Dinner d la Rtisse.

Chap.xvii.
1830.

Cat- nival.

long table (the guests being twenty-six in number)
were a succession of magnificent plateaux, beautiful
figures of nymphs in chased gold, urns, vases of flowers,
decanters in rich stands, with sweetmeats in little
golden plates, &c. &c. A servant between each couple.
At every instant was your servant whispering in your
ear the name of some unknown dish. There was no
harm in taking a dish at a venture, for the moment
you paused your plate was whisked away, and another
instantly offered. There was great variety, and every-
thing was of first-rate excellence. So of the wines.
I named my own bottle, and drank of it in a large
tumbler, every kind of rich wine being offered at the
proper time. I sat between two Russian Princesses,
with whom it was my severe task to keep up a conver-
sation. The company consisted chiefly of Russian
subjects, and I was the only Englishman there. Many
of the former had names " which nobody can read and
nobody can spell." A few beautiful women were there,
including the belle of the season.

February 2yd. — This was the last day of the Carni-
val, which began on the lOth. I was pelted from the
balcony of a Palazzo, and looking up to discover my
assailant, recognized Mrs. Finch, who beckoned to me
to join her. I did so, and took a note of passing
objects, not expecting to rival Goethe in so doing.
Here they are — the produce of a few minutes. A
fellow with a wig of paper shavings ; another all paper,
save his old hat, which had candles, soon to be lighted ; .
a rich devil, with crimson tail ; a Turkish coachman ;
lawyers with paper frills and collars; a conjurer; a bear;

Naples.

461

a man covered with bells ; a postilion with a huge whip ;
several carrying men pick-a-back, one with a machine,
which on a jerk opens like a ladder, and rising to the
first floor, conveys flowers to the ladies. The race was
poor. I noticed balls witR spikes, which hanging on
the necks of the wretched horses, must have inflicted
the more torture the faster they ran. The fun peculiar
to the close of the Carnival was the blowing out of each
other's lights, with the cry of " Senza moccolo." With
exemplary obedience, at a given signal, the Carnival
ends, and the crowds disperse. At eleven the theatre
was closed, that the festivity should not encroach on
the sacred day that followed — Ash Wednesday.

March i6th. — We reached Naples, and, as at Venice,
found high enjoyment on our first arrival. A walk
along the noble street, the Toledo, passing the Royal
Palace. A view of the bay from Santa Lucia — that bay
which surpasses every other bay in the world, as all
travellers agree — not as a bay simply, but including its
matchless islands and unique Vesuvius. Then the line
of palaces, the Chiaja, more than a mile long, fronting
the bay. To pass away the evening, after the excite-
ment of seeing all this for the first time, we went to a
popular theatre.

March \Zth. — As Rome is beyond all doubt incom-
parably the most memorable place I ever saw, no other
rivalling it in my imagination, so is Naples decidedly
the second. And the efi*ect of going to the one after
the other is heightened by contrast. Rome is the city
of tombs, of solemn and heroic recollections, in which
everything~reminds you of the past to the disadvantage

CHAP.xvir.

Naples.

462

Naples.

Chap.xvii.
1830.

Places to
have seen.

of the present, and altogether as Httle sensual and
epicurean as can be in its essential character. Naples,
on the .contrary, is the seat of voluptuous enjoyment —
as Wordsworth happily designated it, " Soft Parthe-
nope." The affluent seem to have nothing to do but
saunter about, sip ices, and be gallant. I have seen it
but for a short time comparatively, and would gladly in
my old age visit it again.

H. C. R. TO Mrs. Collier.

Florence, ydth July, 1830.
. . . ... I reached Naples on the 17th of

March. It has not quite put Rome's nose out of joint,
and that is all I can say. So astonishing and so
delicious a spot (a broad one though, for it includes the
environs and almost excludes the city) certainly no-
where else exists. Vedi Napoli e imiore, they say. They
are right. But I would recommend everybody, before
he dies, just to make the circuit of Sicily. And, on
second thoughts, it may be as well to come to England,
and rave about this paradisiacal hell, for seven years
before he dies the death of a philosophic hero, by
throwing himself into the crater of Vesuvius. I have
told you before to read Forsyth, and it is only in the
faith that you will obey me, that I in mercy spare you
an enumeration of all the wonders of my last journey.
I merely say that from my bed, without changing my
position, I could see the lurid light from the burning
mountain, — that I made the usual excursions to the
Phlegrsean fields, saw the passage into hell through
which .^neas went, and even beheld Acheron itself and

Paestiim.

463

the Elysian fields. To be sure, that same Virgil did
bounce most shamefully. Would you believe it ? The
lake of Avernus is a round muddy pond, and the
abode of the blessed looks not a bit better than a
hop-garden. So Cumae, and Baiae, and Ischia, and
Capua are all like gentlemen's seats, with none but
servants kept there to show them to visitors. Vesuvius
is but an upstart of yesterday. All Naples and the
country around betray the fire that is burning beneath.
Every now and then a little shake of the earth reminds
the people of their peril. Peril did I say i* — ^There is
none. St. Januarius is a sufficient protection.

To Mrs. Masquerier H. C. R. writes : " I have made
an excursion through Salerno to Paestum, including
the finest water excursion to Amalfi. I thought of
Masquerier all day. Such rocks — such temples — such
ruffians ! I believe, after all, the ruffians would have
delighted him most, that is, provided he could have
found means to draw them without having his throat
cut while at the work. Such wretches for us common
people — such glorious creatures for you artists ! I have
traversed Pompeii. I have ascended Vesuvius."

In a letter to his brother, H. C. R. says : " Many a
volume has been written about this disinterred town
(Pompeii). It was buried by a shower of dust, and
therefore without difficulty is being brought to light.
The most striking circumstance is the small size of the
buildings. They are like baby houses. But very in-
teresting indeed is the detail of a Roman house. The
very ovens in the kitchens — the meanest of conveniences

CHAP.XVIT.

1830.

Pjestunu.

Pompeii.

464

TJie TJieatre,

Chap.xvii.

1830.

Vesuvius,

San Carlo
Theatre.

The Molo.

l.azzaroni.

— the whole economy of domestic Hfe — baths, temples,
forums, courts of justice, everything appertaining to a
town of small size and rank. Not furniture only, but
also food contained in metallic and wooden vessels.
There are also fresco paintings, curious rather than
beautiful. My last excursion was to Vesuvius. More
than half a century ago you read about this in the
' Curiosities of Art and Nature,' one of my books. In
spite of the exaggerations of schoolboy fancy, the excur-
sion surpassed my expectations. The picturesque line
round the rim of the outer crater, with the fine sunset
views on all sides, and, when night drew on, the rivulets
of fire which gradually brightened, or rather the vein-
like currents which diversified the broad surface, and
the occasionareruptions from the cone round the inner
crater, all delighted me."

I followed the custom of the country in going to the
opera at the San Carlo Theatre, probably the noblest
in the world. The Scala, at Milan, alone produced
the like effect on me. This theatre at Naples is so
placed that, on occasion when the back is open, Vesu-
vius may be seen from the royal box in front. When
this mountain is the background to the dancing of the
Neapolitan peasants, the scene is incomparable, — save
by a scene which I shall soon mention, and from which,
perhaps, the idea in the present instance was taken.

Before leaving Naples, I must mention briefly the
sight to be generally beheld on the space before the
sea, called the Molo, where the Lazzaroni are fond of
assembling. Here may often be seen a half-naked
fellow, who spouts or reads verses from a MS. pf un-

The Lazzaroni.

465

imaginable filth, and all in tatters. It is Tasso. There
is, I understand, a Tasso in the Neapolitan dialect. Or
it may be some other popular poet, to which an audience
of the lowest of the people is listening gravely. And I
do not recollect having ever heard a laugh which would
imply there was anything by which a well-bred man
would be offended. Goethe has eloquently defended
the Lazzaroni, and even eulogized them for their
industrious habits ; which is by no means the irony
one might imagine. Certainly, I saw nothing to make
me think ill of the Lazzaroni. If offended they are
ferocious, but they are affectionate, and are said to
be honest to an exemplary degree. They will be
praised for their piety or derided for their superstition
by men who would not differ as to the facts they so
variously designate. I know not whether the extreme
poor of London, and, indeed, of any part of England,
all things considered, are not more to be pitied. I
say this of the extreme poor ; and out of this extremity
of poverty it is somewhat less difficult for the English-
man than the Neapolitan to make his escape. The
Neapolitan professor of poetry receives from his pupils
their Jwnoraria in farthings.

An arrangement had been made that Richmond *
and I should accompany Von Sacken and Westphal
to Sicily, on their way to Greece ; and on the 6th of
April we set out on our journey to Sicily, which ought
to be the finale, as it would be the crown and com-
pletion, of every Italian tour.

* An American clergyman, with whom H. C. R. had fallen in by the way.

Chap. XVII.
1830.

Reciter or

Impronjisa-

tore.

Journey to
Sicily.

VOL. II.

II H

466

Letter on

Chap.xvii.

1830.

A letter on
Sicily.

H. C. R. TO W. Pattisson and Sons.

Florence, July 17, 1830.
My dear Friends,

Many thanks for your very kind and most
acceptable joint and several letter. I must place you
at the very head of my correspondents for promptitude

in reply and for variety of information

I had a delightful tour in Sicily. Go, run for the
map, or you won't understand me. There, you see the
northern coast, between Palermo and Messina. Here
are all the magnificent scenes of this most glorious
island. Palermo unites every charm which mere nature
can give. The five days' journey a-muleback to Mes-
sina is over mountains, sea-shore, and valleys, of which
the perfume is so strong that a lady with weak nerves
would be oppressed. After two days at Messina, we
proceeded to Taormina. What think you of a theatre
so built that, the back scenes opening, the spectators
could see Mount Etna ! This real fire is better than
the real water at Sadler's Wells. Then to Catania,
built amid masses of black lava. Etna I did not dare
ascend. Richmond went, and was rewarded with
noble views. Then to Syracuse — an awful place.
This city of two millions of men is shrunk into a
mean town on a tongue of land. Not a spot worth
seeing by the bodily eye, but to the eye of memory
how glorious ! I was taken to a dirty cistern ; seventy
women were washing, with their clothes tucked up,
and themselves standing in a pool, — a disgusting scene.
" What do you bring me here for .?" — " Why, sir, this is
the Fountain of Arethusa " ! ! ! Oh, those rascally poets,

Sicily.

467

again say I. Plato did right to banish the liars from
his republic. The day before I was in good humour
with them, for I saw the very rock that the Cyclop
hurled at Ulysses. To be sure, the cave is not there
now ; but iHimporte. I saw the ear of Dionysius — a silly
story of modern invention ; but it is the finest quarry
in the world. Continuing my ride, I came in four days
to Girgenti. I must refer you to some book of travels ;
enough for me to say that, having one day seen these
miracles of art with a guide, Richmond and I separated
on the next, and each alone spent two hours under the
pillars of these Grecian temples, at least 3,cxx) years old.
In front, the sea ; behind, a rich valley under mountains.
This city had fourteen temples. The ruins of two are
mere rubbish, but colossal ; those of two others consist
of the columns entire. Then we went on to Selinunte.
Here lie sixty columns on the ground, like so many
sheaves of corn left by the reaper : an earthquake threw
them down. And then I saw Segeste, a temple in a
wilderness. Not a living thing did we see but wild-fowl.
Then we went to Alcamo (having omitted to go to
Trapani and Marsala, which are not worth seeing). You
may serve a friend by giving him this account. We
were thirteen days in riding over somewhat more than
400 miles ; and we rested seven days on the way.
I was, besides, a week at Palermo, All the stories
about banditti are sheer fable, when asserted of the
present times ; and, except on the north coast, the
accommodations are good.

May 20th. — (Rome.) I went to my old apartments in |

H II 2

Chap.xvii,

1830.

468

Rome. — Bunsen.

Chap.xvii.

1830.

Papal

Government

on the

watch for

libels.

Polemics in
Prussia.

Krahl leav-
ing Rome.

the Piazza di Spagna : little as I liked Brunetti, I pre-
ferred to bear "the ills I had, than fly to others that I
knew not of." From the Thompsons I heard an anec-
dote too rich and characteristic to be lost. Mr. Severn*
had sent to the late Exhibition a painting of Ariel on
a bat's back — " on a bat's back I do fly " — and had put
over the head of Ariel a peacock's feather. It was re-
jected ; first, it was said, for its indecency. At length
the cause was confessed ; Cardinal Albani, the Secretary
of State, had discovered in it a satire on the Romish
Church. He interpreted the picture to represent an
Angel astride over the Devil, but perceived in the
peacock's feather the emblem of Papal vanity.

May 2()th. — An interesting talk with Bunsen about
the embarrassments of the Prussian Government, pressed
as it is between the extreme liberality of Gesenius and
Wegscheider, at Halle, and the intolerance of those
who support the established religion, such as Gerlich,
whom, however, Neander, though orthodox, does not
support. Bunsen's remedy is, "Let Gesenius be re-
moved from Halle, where he does harm, to Berlin, where
he will have his equals." Wegscheider (who does not
go so far as Paulus) would be hissed at Berlin, were he
to advance there what he promulgates at Halle.

June 2nd. — With a numerous party of Germans, at a
Trattoria beyond San Giovanni, in honour of a success-
ful artist, Krahl, leaving Rome. A cordial though
humble supper, at six pauls (3^-.) each. I was touched
when I heard the familiar sounds from my Btirschenzeit,
when a vivat was sung to the " Scheidenden Bruder,'*

* The friend and biographer of Keats.

The Pope at a Fete.

469

the departing brother, &c. A laurel crown was put on
his head. Nothing affects me so much as partings.

H. C. R. TO T. R.

Rome, June 26th, 1830.
On the 1 0th of June v/e saw a sight, in its way one
of the most remarkable ever seen — the procession of
the Pope at the fete of Corpus Domini. It was got up
with great splendour. You of course know that this
fete celebrates the great mystery of transubstantiation.
All that is of rank in the Roman Church unites to do
homage to the bread-God. The Piazza of St. Peter is
environed by a tented covering, which is adorned with
leaves and flowers ; and the procession, issuing from the
great door of the cathedral, makes the circuit of the
square, and re-enters the cathedral. All the monastic
orders, canons, and higher clergy — all the bishops and
cardinals — attend, but the great object is His Holiness.
He is chaired, and most artfully is the chair prepared.
The Pope is covered with an immense garment of white
satin, studded with golden stars. His robe hangs in
folds behind him, and is made to lie as if his feet were
there — he acts kneeling. In like manner you see under
the satin what you take to be his arms ; and upon what
look like his hands stands the Monstrance, within which
is the Host. On this the Pope fixed his eye intently,
and never once turned it aside, while his lips moved as if
he were absorbed in prayer, and not noticing the people,
all of whom, as he drew near, threw themselves on their
knees. I was at a window, and therefore without offence
could keep my position. Behind His Holiness were

Chap.xvii.
1830.

Fife of

Corpus

Domini.

The Holy

Father's

part in the

ceremony.

470

The Popes "Make-up.

Chap.xvii.

1830.

Goethe on
such things.

Fite of
Flowers at
Genzano.

carried two immense fans of peacock's feathers ; and
the Roman nobihty followed in gala dresses. Indeed, all
were in gala dress — spectators as well as actors. It was
certainly an imposing sight ; though, placed as I was,
I could see very clearly that the Pope was sitting most
comfortably in an arm-chair, with his hands in his lap,
and no otherwise annoyed than by the necessity of
keeping his eyes fixed, as schoolboys do, or try to do,
without winking. After the procession had passed I
ran into the cathedral. It was nearly full, and it was
an awful moment when the benediction was given. I
was out of sight of the chief performer, but on a sudden
the thousands who filled the cathedral, except a few
heretics, were on their knees. You might have heard a
mouse stir. On a sudden every one rose, and triumphant
music rang out. God's representative had given his
blessing to the faithful ; of which representative Goethe
says, "There is not a relic of primitive Christianity
here ; and if Jesus Christ were to return to see what his
deputy was about, he would run a fair chance of being
crucified again." Mind, Goethe says this, not I ; and
I repeat it more for the point of the thing than for its

truth

On the Y'jth and id>th of Jtine I made an excursion
of great interest with a young German artist — we went
to Genzano to see the Feast of Flowers. This is one of
the most primitive, simple, and idyllic feasts ever seen in
Italy. Genzano, as you will see in my account of my
journey to Naples, is one of the mountain towns beyond
Albano, and under Monte Cavo. It is an ancient Latin
city. Its situation is romantic. I went the first day to

Fete of Flowers.

471

Aricia, also a delightful mountain town, where I stayed
with simple-hearted excellent people. We spent the
next day in strolling in a romantic country, and in the
evening we went to the fete. Two long streets were
paved with flowers. The whole ground was covered
with boughs of box, and the centre was covered with
the richest imaginable carpet of flower-leaves. These
were arranged in the form of temples, altars, crosses,
and other sacred symbols. Also the Austrian, French,
and Papal arms were in the same way formed, "like
chalk on rich men's floors."* Poppy-leaves, for instance,
made a brilliant red, which was the border of all the
plot-grounds, or frameworks ; and various flowers of
rich yellows, blues, &c., were used for the appropriate
heraldic colours. The procession, of course, was not to
be compared with that of the Pope and cardinals on
Corpus Donmti, but it was pretty. Children gaudily
dressed, with golden wings like angels, carried the signs
of the Passion ; priests and monks in abundance ; ban-
ners, crosses ; and, borne by a bishop with great pomp,
the Monstrance, before which all knelt, except a few
foreigners. All that was wanting to render the sight
interesting was — not a belief in the value of such shows,
but a sympathy with the feelings of others.

The great principle of the Catholic Church is to keep
the faithful in subjection by frightening them ; and at
the same time there is an endeavour to make the shows
as interesting as possible.

* ' ' Like forms, with chalk
Painted on rich men's floors, for one feast night."

Wordsworth's Sonnet. I. Personal Talk. Vol IV. p. 219.

Chap.xvii.
1830.

472

Illumination of St. Peter's.

Chap.xvii.
.1830.

Feast of the
Vigil of
St. Peter

and
St. Paul.

The illumi-
nation of
St. Peter's.

Goethe.

June 2%th. — In the evening, the Feast of the Vigil
of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. It is much celebrated,
and usually detains many foreigners in Rome, on
account of the famous illumination of the exterior of
Saint Peter's. I accompanied Gotzenberger* and a
Madame Louska, a German artiste with whom he was
intimate. There are peculiar ceremonies on this day,
all of which are noted down in the books of the Church.
And the church itself too was in full dress. I de-
scended into the subterranean church. A very curious
sight in this crypt. Here are numerous low passages,
only now and then open ; to-day to men only. There
are many very old statues, some Grecian and Roman —
turned Christian. Among others, a head of Saint Peter
manifestly clapped on to the body of a Roman Senator.
After a bad supper at a Trattoi'ia, we went to see the
first illumination, which had begun at eight. " A
sight," as I wrote to my brother, " followed, which is
worth a pilgrimage, being unforgetable." Imagine Saint
Paul's blazing in the air, graceful lines running from the
Ball to the Stone Gallery, of a pale yellow flame. The
clock strikes nine, and instantly the first illumination is
lost in a blaze of lurid light. A regular corps of work-
men are stationed at intervals about the dome, and
effect the change with marvellous celerity ; and there
are added fireworks from the adjacent Castle of Saint
Angelo.

My last days before I left Rome for the summer,
were spent in reading Goethe about Rome.f It was

* A German artist. See p. 379. '

t " Italianische Reise." Vol. XXIII Goethes Werke. Also " Zweiter Au-
fenthalt in Rom." Vol. XXIV.

Goetfie on Rome.

475

when he was himself about to depart that he wrote the
wise sentence, " In jeder grossen Trenniing liegt ein
Keim von Wahnsinn. Man muss sick huten ihn nach-
denklich ausznbreiten und zii pflegen!'^ It was when
he had written the first volume of his works — in the
opinion of many, his best works — that he wrote, " Wie
wenig Spur Idsst 'man von einem Leben zuruck!"-\
Goethe was not a vain man. He thought little of what
he actually did, compared with the possibilities of his
nature.

After spending a few days at Siena, where it is said
the best Italian is spoken, and where certainly it seemed
to me that even the servant-maids had an agreeable
pronunciation, we arrived, on the 15th of July, at
Florence. When Mr. Finch heard of my wish to spend
the summer months in this favourite place of resort, he
said, " There are living, in a genteel part of the town,
two elderly ladies, highly respectable, who let their best
apartments, but not to entire strangers. Nor are they
particularly cheap ; but there you will be at your ease.
Niccolini, the dramatic poet, is their intimate friend.
He visits them regularly twice a day ; but seldom, if
ever, breaks bread in the house. Such are Italian
habits. Every evening there is a conversazione, attended
by from six to ten friends ; and this particularly re-
commends the house to you." (This indeed led me to
resist all attempts to detain me at Siena.) Accordingly,
my first business, after taking coffee, was to go to

* " In every great separation there lies a germ of madness. One must
thoughtfully beware of extending and cherishing it."
f " How little trace of a life does one leave behind him."

Chap. XVII.
1830.

Florence.

474

H. C. R.'s Life in Florence.

Ghap.xvii.

1830.

H. C. R.'s
hosts in
Florence,

Daily life
at Florence.

Niccolini
the drama-
tic f Get.

Mesdames Certellini, 1341, Via della Nuova Vigna ; and
I was, without any difficulty, at once installed, having
a large sitting-room, and a bed-room beyond, in the
piano secondo. I was pleased at once with their un-
pretending manners, and I had a confidence in their
integrity in which I was not disappointed. I paid five
pauls a day for my room, and the servants were to cook
for me, Niccolini was with us for two hours in the
evening, with whom I immediately entered into discus-
sion on German literature, of which he was as much an
opponent as I was a decided partisan.

In a letter to my brother, dated August 15, I wrote :
" This has been my daily life since I came here, I
spend my mornings, from six till three, in my room
reading Machiavelli and Alfieri. Political works are my
favourite reading now. At three I dine. In the after-
noon I lounge over the papers at the Reading-room,
a liberal institution, kept by M. Vieusseux,* a man to
whom Tuscany owes much. From six to nine he is at
home, and, as I brought a letter to him from Mr, Finch,
I generally step in. There I see a number of the most
distinguished literati in Italy, all Liberals, a large pro-
portion of them Neapolitans and Sardinians, From nine
to eleven there is always a conversazione at home, Nic-
colini, the dramatic poet, is the intimate friend of the
house, and never fails. We talk on politics and on
poetry, and never want subjects to dispute about. You

• Jean Pierre Vieusseux, a native of Leghorn, born of a Genevese family.
He was the founder not only of the Reading-room above mentioned, but also
of several critical and literary periodicals of very high repute. A brief account
of him will be found in the Conversations Lexicon.

Count Pecchids Works.

A7S

will smile to hear that I am under the necessity of de-
fending Catholic emancipation in a country in which none
but the Roman Catholic religion is legally recognized.
I have endured the heat very well. My breakfast
throws me into a perspiration. At evening parties the
gentlemen are allowed to take off their coats and their
neckcloths. The other evening I burnt my hand by
heedlessly putting it on the parapet of a bridge ; yet
it was then eight o'clock. I was returning from a play
performed by daylight, — the spectators sitting in the
open air, but in the shade."

ytily 22nd. — I was instructed by reading Pecchio's*
" History of the Science of Political Economy." He
taught me that the Italian writers had the merit of
showing the effect of commerce, agriculture, &c., on the
moral state and happiness of a country ; while English
writers confined their inquiry to the mere wealth of

* This Pecchio I afterwards knew at Brighton. He was fortunate in marry-
ing an estimable English lady, who survives him in retirement at Brighton.
He was a worthy man, of quiet habits, and much respected. His opinion
was, that though the science of the Italians had not supplied the want of
liberty, it had mitigated many evils : evils as often proceeding from ignorance
as from the love of power and selfishness. — H. C. R.

Giuseppe Pecchio was born at Milan in 1785. The occupation of Lombardy
caused him to vmte a political work, in connection with his own country ; and
an attempt at insurrection, in which he was implicated, led to his spending
some time in Switzerland, Spain, and Portugal. He wrote works on the latter
two countries. He also visited Greece, and helped to write ' ' A Picture of
Greece in 1825." The work to which H. C. R. refers, is doubtless one
entitled " Storia delta Economia publica in Italia" in which an account is given
of the substance of the principal Italian works on pohtical economy. In
1823 Pecchio visited England, and, after his return from Greece, in 1825,
settled in this country. In 1827 he married a lady at Brighton, and lived
there till his death, which took place in 1835. During his residence in
England his mind was active in observing the English people, and the results
were given in several works, which were highly esteemed both for their
ability and their spirit.

Chap.xvii.
1830.

Pecchio s
Political
Economy.

476

Niccolini,

Chap. XVII.

Niccolini s
Nabucco.

Niccolini
on Catholic
emancipa-
tion.

nations. Beccaria and Filangieri are their prime writers,
economists as well as philanthropists.

July 2T,rd and 24th. — I read these days a little known
work by Niccolini, a tragedy — Nabucco — being, under
Oriental names, the history of Buonaparte in his
domestic relations. It is, like all his tragedies, decla-
matory, without passion or character. Niccolini made
no secret of his liberal opinions ; but he was an anxious,
nervous, timid man, and unfit for action. His tragedy of
" The Sicilian Vespers," though made as little political
as possible, being a domestic tragedy, could not but
contain passages capable of a dangerous application.
He told me that, on the publication, the French Minis-
ter said to the Austrian Minister at Florence, " Monsieur
, ought I not to require the Grand Duke's Go-

vernment to suppress it .'' " — " I do not see," said the
Austrian Minister, " that you have anything to do with
it. The letter is addressed to you, but the contents are
for me." Niccolini's dramatic works all belong to the
Classical school. He is a stylist, and very hostile to the
Romantic school. He blamed (as Paulus, at Heidelberg,
had done) our Government for Catholic emancipation.
" Give the Romanists," he said, " full liberty : that they
have a right to ; but political power on no account.
They will exercise it to your destruction when they
can." I confess that I am less opposed to this opinion
now than I was when I heard it.

Reading and society were the prime objects of inte-
rest during my Florence summer ; I shall therefore,
with one exception, pass over journeys and sights
without notice.

Countess Testa.

477

Among the frequenters of our evening conversazioni ^harj

were a Countess Testa and her brother Buonarotti, a
judge. They inherited this great name from a brother
of Michael Angelo ; and the judge possessed in his
house a few graphic and literary memorials of the great
man. They were less fortunate in their immediate
ancestor. Their father was one of the very bad men
of the last generation. He was a partisan of the Com-
mittee of Public Safety in 1 794. But though a ferocious
fanatic, he did not add to this the baseness of profiting
by his cruelty, or combine the love of gold with the
thirst for blood. He had no rapacity, and was as
honest, in a certain narrow sense of that word, as
Robespierre himself. When the French Revolution
broke out, he caught the infection, abandoned his
family, and wrote to his wife that he released her from
all obligations ; he would be no longer an Italian, but a
Frenchman, and would have a French wife. So far, he
kept his word. He never returned, nor did he ever see
his wife or children any more.

He was in prison after the fall of Robespierre, and
narrowly escaped deportation. He subsequently took
part in the famous conspiracy of Babeuf, the object of
which was avowed to be the abolition of property.
His life was spared, on the merciful suggestion that he
was insane, and he lived many years at Brussels as a
language-master.

My political reading was interrupted by a proposal
to be one of a party in a pilgrimage to the nearest of
the three Tuscan monasteries. We set out on the 2nd
of August, drove to Pelago, about fifteen miles, and

1830.

Descend-
ants of a
brother of
Michael
Angelo.

Visit to
monasteries.

478

Vallombrosa.

Chap.xvii.
1830.

Bourbons

ejected from,

France.

thence walked to the Benedictine monastery, which has
been an object of interest to Enghsh travellers, chiefly
because one of our great poets has introduced its name
into a simile : —

"He called

His legions, angel-forms, who lay entranced,

Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks

*
In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades,

High over-arched, embower." *

It must be the delight which the sound gives to every
ear susceptible of the beauty of verse, that excites a
curiosity concerning the place, the name of which is so
introduced. But as far as expectation is raised, that
can only suffer disappointment from the visit, for with
the present appearance of the valley the description
does not in the least agree. I could see but one little
stream in it. It is by no means woody, and all the
trees now growing there (I presume that twenty years
have produced no change) are pine or fir-trees, and of
all trees the least adapted to arched bowers are the fir
and larch.

We reached Florence between eight and nine, and I
went straight to Vieusseux, impelled by mere curiosity,
as if I had a presentiment of the marvellous news I
was about to hear : news, of which I wrote next day in
my journal, that it had affected me more than any I
had heard since the fall of Napoleon ; and looking back
now upon what had then occurred, though the imme-
diate consequences were other than I had expected, it
is impossible to contemplate them without a mixture
of sorrow and shame. One Englishman only was

* "Paradise Lost." Book I., 300-304.

Bourbons Expelled from France.

479

in the reading-room, a language-master (Hamilton),
"Any news?" I asked. — "None to-day." — "I have been
at Camaldoli three days." — " Then you have not heard
the^r^^^ news V — " I have heard nothing." — " Oh" (with
a voice of glee) "the King of France has done his
duty at last. He has sent the Chamber of Deputies

about their business, abolished the d d Constitution

and the liberty of the press, and proclaimed his own
power as absolute king." — "And that you call good
news .''" I felt indignant, and never would speak to
the man afterwards. I went upstairs ; Vieusseux was
alone, and in evident affliction. He gave me an account
of the ordinances which Charles X. had issued ; but
nothing had been heard of what took place aftenvards.
"And what will the end be?" — "I know what the
result will be," answered Vieusseux. " It will end in
the driving of the Bourbons out of France — perhaps in
three days, perhaps in three weeks, perhaps in three
years ; but driven out they will be." They were driven
out at the moment he was speaking, and they have not
yet returned. Are they driven out for ever ?

At Madame Certellini's were Niccolini, Fieri, and
others of my acquaintance, sitting in silence, as at a
funeral ; all alike confounded at the intelligence.

Heat and anxiety kept me awake at night.

August ^th. — Next day was lost to all ordinary occu-
pations ; nothing thought or talked of but what we
expected to hear every hour ; each man, according to his
temperament, anticipating what he hoped, or what he
feared. I had no doubt that we should hear of bloody
transactions. The reports were ludicrously contradictory.

Chap. XVII.
.1830.

Grief of
Liberals.

The new

Revolution

the only

subject.

48o

Sensation caused by Revolution.

Chap. XVII.
1830.

The news
at Rome.

August Jth. — Between ten and eleven I was in my
bedroom, when, hearing my name, I went into my sitting-
room. There was Niccolini, pale as ashes. He had sat
down, and exclaimed, in sentences scarcely distinguish-
able, " Tutto ^ Jinito." I was enough master of myself
to reply, " Che ! Jinito ! Tutto h cominciato !" for I re-
collected in a moment the commencement de la fin. He
went on to inform me what he had heard from the
Austrian Minister in a few short sentences, that after
three days' fighting at Paris, La Fayette was at the head
of the National Guards ; a provisional government was
established ; the king had fled, nobody knew where. Of
the impression of this news in Italy I have alone to write.
I went to the Reading-rooms. Both rooms were filled
with company. An Englishman came to me laughing,
and said, not altogether meaning it, " Look at all these
rascals : they cannot conceal.their joy, though they dare
not speak out. I would shoot them all if I were the
Grand Duke." — "You would have a good deal to do,
then," I answered in the same tone. I came home and
wrote two letters to Rome, that is, to Mr. Finch and
to Richmond. Neither of them had heard of anything
more than the ordinances. Richmond ran about reading
my letter, and was threatened by the police with being
sent to prison, as a spreader of false tidings. Mr. Finch
drove out in his carriage, and read my letter to all
his friends. As far as he could learn, no other informa-
tion of these events arrived that day at Rome. Such
is the effect of fear. Mr. Finch wrote and thanked me
for my letter. His letter was very characteristic. He
said his great friend, Edmund Burke, would have ap-

Walter Savasre Landor.

481

proved of the event, and he blessed God that he had
lived to know of this triumph of rational liberty. Not
long after, Mayer wrote to inform me of Finch's death,
saying that the reception of the news I forwarded to
him was his last pleasure in this world.

August I4.th. — Met to-day the one man living in
Florence whom I was anxious to know. This was
Walter Savage Landor, a man of unquestionable
genius, but very questionable good sense ; or, rather,
one of those unmanageable men, —

" Blest with huge stores of wit,
Who want as much again to manage it."

Without pretending now to characterize him (rather
bold in me to attempt such a thing at any time), I will
merely bring together the notes that I think it worth
while to preserve concerning him during this summer ;
postponing an account of my subsequent intercourse with
him. I had the good fortune to be introduced to him
as the friend of his friends, Southey and Wordsworth.
He was, in fact, only Southey *s friend. Of Wordsworth
he theft professed warm admiration. I received an
immediate invitation to his villa. This villa is within
a few roods of that most classic spot on the Tuscan
Mount, Fiesole, where Boccaccio's hundred tales were
told. To Landor's society I owed much of my highest
enjoyment during my stay at Florence.

He was a man of florid complexion, with large full
eyes, and altogether a leonine man, and with a fierceness
of tone well suited to his name ; his decisions being
confident, and on all subjects, whether of taste or life,
unqualified ; each standing for itself, not caring whether

VOL. II. I I

Chap.xvii.

1830.

Death of
Finch.

W. S.
Landor,

His Tuscan

villa.

482

Landor at Flvrence.

Chap. XVII.
1830.

Landor in
Bleak
House.

His gift of
unlimited
utterance.

Landor s
history.

it was in harmony with what had gone before or would
follow from the same oracular lips. But why should
I trouble myself to describe him .'' He is painted by a
master hand in Dickens's novel, " Bleak House," now
in course of publication, where he figures as Mr. Boy-
thorn. The combination of superficial ferocity and
inherent tenderness, so admirably portrayed in " Bleak
House," still at first strikes every stranger — for twenty-
two years have not materially changed him — no less
than his perfect frankness and reckless indifference to
what he says.

On Atigtist 20th I first visited him at his villa. There
were his wife, a lady who had been a celebrated beauty,
and three fine boys and a girl. He told me something
of his history. He was from Warwickshire, but had a
family estate in Wales. Llanthony Priory belonged to
him. He was well educated — I forget where ; and Dr.
Parr, he said, pronounced him one of the best Latin
verse writers. When twenty-one, he printed his Latin
poem of " Gebir." He was sent to Oxford, from which

he was expelled for shooting at the Master, Dr. .

This was his own statement at a later day, when he
repeated to me his epigram on Horse-Kett, a learned
Professor so nicknamed, —

" ' The Centaur is not fabulous,' said Young.
Had Young known Kett,

He had said, ' Behold one put together wrong;
The head is horseish; but, what yet
Was never seen in man or beast,
The rest is human ; or, at least,
Is Kett."

His father wished him to study the law, saying, "If

Land or on the Italians.

483

you will study, I will allow you £l^o, or perhaps ;^400,
per annum. If not, you shall have £\20, and no more ;
and I do not wish to see your face again." Said Landor,
" I thanked my father for his offer, and said, ' I could
take your ;^350, and pretend to study, and do nothing.
But I never did deceive you, nor ever will.' So I took
his ;^I20, and lived with great economy, refusing to
dine out, that I might not lose my independence," He
did not tell me, then or afterwards, the rest of his
history.

Though he meant to live and die in Italy, he had
a very bad opinion of the Italians. He would rather
follow his daughter to the grave than to the church with
an Italian husband. No wonder that, with this turn of
mind, he should be shunned. The Italians said, " Every
one is afraid of him." Yet he was respected univer-
sally. He had credit for generosity, as well as honesty ;
and he deserved it, provided an ample allowance was
made for caprice. He was conscious of his own infir-
mity of temper, and told me he saw few persons,
because he could not bear contradiction. Certainly, I
frequently did contradict him ; yet his attentions to me,
both this and the following year, were unwearied.

He told me of having been ordered to leave Florence
for insolence towards the Government. He asked for
leave to return for a few days on business. The Minis-
ter said a passport could not be given him, but that
instructions would be given at the frontiers to admit
him, and his continuance would be overlooked if he
wished it. He has remained unmolested ever since.

Among the antipathies which did not offend me, was

I I 2

Chap. XVII.
1830.

I.andor's ill
opinion of
Italians.

Liindor and

the

Italians.

In Italy on
sufferance.

484

Landof's- hitolerance.

Chap.xvii.

1830.

Landor s
dogmatism.

His views
on art.

Goethe s

son a

Buona-

partist.

his dislike of Lord Byron, which was intense. He
spoke with indignation of his " Satire " on Rogers, the
poet; and told me the story — which I afterwards heard
at first hand from Lady Blessington — of Lord Byron's
high glee at forcing Rogers to sit on the cushion under
which lay that infamous lampoon. Of his literary judg-
ments the following are specimens : — Of Dante, about
a seventieth part is good ; of Ariosto, a tenth ; of Tasso,
not a line worth anything, — yes, one line. He declared
almost all Wordsworth to be good. Landor was as
dogmatic on painting as on poetry. He possessed a
considerable collection of pictures. His judgment was
amusingly at variance w^ith popular opinion. He thought
nothing of Michael Angelo as a painter ; and, as a
sculptor, preferred John of Bologna. Were he rich, he
said, he would not give i^ 1,000 for " The Transfiguration,"
but ten times as much for Fra Bartolomeo's " St. Mark."
Next to Raphael and Fra Bartolomeo, he loved Peru-
gino. He lent me several volumes of his " Imaginary
Dialogues," which I read with mixed feelings. I am
ready to adopt now the assertion of the Quarterly Review
on the whole collection : " We know no one able to
write anything so ill as the worst, or so well as the best.
Generally speaking, the most highly polished are those
in which the ancients are interlocutors ; and the least
agreeable, the political dialogues between the moderns."
On the 22nd of August I was surprised by the sudden
appearance of Richmond ; and, while with him in the
Hall of Niobe, heard my name called out in German.
The voice came from the son of Goethe, who was on
his way to Rome. He and Richmond breakfasted with

Goethe's Son.

485

me the next day. Goethe was very chatty ; but his
conversation on this day, and on the 31st, when he took
leave of me, left a very unpleasant impression on me.
I might have been rude, if my veneration for the father
had permitted me to be perfectly free towards the son.
I kept my temper with difficulty towards a German
who reproached the princes of his native land for their
" treachery towards Napoleon," whom he praised. I
could allow him to abuse the marshals of France, but
not the German Tugendbund and General York, the
King of Prussia, &c. &c. The King of Saxony alone
among the princes was the object of his praise ; for he
alone " kept his word."

On my arrival at Rome, a few weeks afterwards, I
heard that he had that day been buried, the Germans
attending the funeral seeing in him the descendant of
their greatest man.

September 21st. — Read to-day a disagreeable book,
only because it was the life, by a great man, of one
still greater — by Boccaccio, of Dante. I did not expect,
in the voluminous conteur, an extraordinary degree of
superstition, and a fantastic hunting after mystical
qualities in his hero. He relates that Dante's mother
dreamt she lay in of a peacock, and Boccaccio finds
in the peacock four remarkable properties, the great
qualities of the " Divina Commedia :" namely, the tail
has a hundred eyes, and the poem a hundred cantos ;
its ugly feet indicate the mean ^^ lingtia volgare;" its
screaming voice the frightful menaces of the " Inferno "
and " Purgatorio ; " and the odoriferous and incor-
ruptible flesh the divine truths of the poem.

Chap. XVII.

1830,

His death.

Boccaccio
on Dante.

486

Spence. — At Rome.

Chap.xvu.
1830.

Spence.

Bunseii.

Political

viisettle-

metit.

October i6th. — I was to have returned to Rome with
Schmidt ; but he was prevented, for the time, by the
arrival of the Spences, the parents of the lady whom
he afterwards married, and is now living with, in pros-
perity, in Tuscany. I was much pleased with the
Spences, who are now in the first line of my friends.
We knew each other by name, having a common
friend in Masquerier, of whom he spoke with great
regard. Spence is known to the world most advan-
tageously, as the joint author, with Kirby, of the
Text-book in English on Entomology ;* and also, but
not with like authority or repute, as an ingenious writer
on Political Economy. His first pamphlet, which made
a noise, and for a time was very popular, was entitled
" Britain Independent of Commerce." He was, and is,
a man of remarkably clear head and good sense. He
rather affects hostility to metaphysics and poetry ; " be-
cause," he says, " I am a mere matter-of-fact man."
But, with all that, he seems to like my company, who
am ignorant of all science — and that shows a freedom
from narrow-minded attachments.

November i6th. — (Rome.) I was at Bunsen's for the
first time this season. The confusion which prevailed
over all Europe, in consequence of the last French
Revolution, had rendered everything uncertain. The
accession of the Whigs this winter, and the threatened
changes in Germany and Italy, made all political specu-
lations hazardous, and diplomatists were at fault ; but

* "An Introduction to Entomology; or, Elements of the Natural History
of Insects. With a Scientific Index. By the Rev. William Kirby and
William Spence, Esq." 4 Vols. Several editions of this valuable work have
been published. Professor Oken translated it into German.

Bunsen. — Thorwaldsen.

487

the popular power was in the ascendant, and liberal
opinions were in fashion. This evening, Bunsen related
an anecdote on the circumstances attending the " Ordi-
nances," lending to show that very serious consequences
arose from the French Minister, Polignac, having dwelt
so long in England, as to confound the English with
the French sense of a material word. In a military
report laid before him, on which the Ordinances were
issued, it was stated that the Paris troops were 15,000
effectives ; and he understood, as it would be in
English, that these were effective. But, unless the
words ^^ et prhentes" are added, it means in French
that the number stated is what ought to be there ; that
is, the rated number. The troops were not actually
there, and the issue of the conflict is well known.

November 2<^th. — I had been introduced to Thor-
waldsen, a man not attractive in his manners, and
rather coarse in person. Kolle had taken me to his
studio. He was at work on his figure of Lord Byron.
I thought it slim, and rather mean ; but I would not
set up for a judge ; nor was it far advanced. The
terms on which he undertook the work for the sub-
scribers— a thousand guineas — were thought creditable
to his liberality.

December 2nd. — On the 30th of November died
Pius VIII., which threw Rome into an anomalous
state for an uncertain time. I accompanied a small
party to see the body lying in state — a sight neither
imposing to the senses, nor exciting to the sensibility.
On a high bed, covered with crimson silk, lay the
corpse in its priestly robes, with gloves, and diamond

Chap.xvii.

1830.

Thor-
waldsen.

Death of
Pius VIII.

488

Death and Funeral of the Pope,

Chap.xvii.
1830.

The Pope

lying in

state.

Funeral of
the Pope.

H. C. P.

robbed in
the street.

ring, &c. The people were allowed to pass through
the apartment indiscriminately ; and, within an en-
closure, priests were chanting a solemn service. After-
wards I saw the body in a chapel at St. Peter's, lying
in state on a black bier, dressed in the episcopal robes
and mitre. The face looked differently — the forehead
overhanging — but it had then a mask of wax. The
feet projected beyond an iron railing, for the faithful
to kiss,

December 12th. — I was at St. Peter's again when the
funeral rites were performed. The music was solemn
and affecting. I do not recollect seeing where the
body was deposited for the present. It is placed in
its last abode on the burial of the next Pope. This
is the custom.

I must now go back to December 2nd, In the
evening, about eight, on my way to attend the weekly
party at Bunsen's, I went down a back street to the
left of the Corso, I was sauntering idly, and per-
haps musing on the melancholy sight of the morn-
ing, and the probable effect of a new sovereign on the
Romish Church, when I felt something at my waist.
Putting my hand to the part, I found my watch gone,
with its heavy gold chain ; and a fellow ran forward,
I ran after him, and shouted as loud as I could, " Stop
thief!" I recollected that " Stop thief" was not Italian,
but could not recollect the word " ladrone ;" and the
sense of my folly in calling " Stop thief" made me
laugh, and impeded my progress. The pickpocket
was soon out of sight, and the street was altogether
empty. It is lucky, indeed, that I did not reach the

Roman Police.

489

fellow, as there is no doubt that he would have
supported the dexterity of his fingers by the strength
of his wrist, and a stiletto. In the meanwhile, my
hat was knocked off my head. I walked back, and,
seeing persons at the door of a cafe, related my mishap,
and my hat was brought to me. At Bunsen's, I had
the condolence of the company, and was advised to
go to the Police ; which I did the next day. I related
my story ; and though I gave a hint, as advised, that I
was willing to give fifty or sixty dollars for my lost pro-
perty, I was listened to with gentlemanly indifference. I
could hardly get an intimation that any concern would
be taken about the matter : only my card was taken, I
supposed, in case the thief should wish to restore the
watch to me of his own accord. I was told that, for
a fee, persons made it their business to take a descrip-
tion of the watch to watchmakers, &c. ; but, when I
offered to leave money at the office, I was told I must
see after that myself. I soon saw I could have no
help there. I did give a couple of dollars to a sort
of agent, who was to make inquiries, which profited
nothing ; and this raised my loss to somewhat more
than £40.

However, this same evening, another incident took
place which was a source of great pleasure to me, not
only during my residence in Rome, but long afterwards.
Madame Bunsen said to me, " There is a lady I should
like to introduce to you." I answered, impertinently,
" Do you mean me to fall in love with her } " She was
certainly very plain ; but a tall person, with a very intel-
ligent countenance, and, indeed, a commanding figure.

Chap. XVII.
1830.

TAe Roman
police.

Hon. Mi Si
Mackenzie,

490

Miss Mackenzie.

Chap.xvii.

1830.

Landor on

H. c. /e.

H. C. R.'s
bust by
Ewing.

should have secured her from the affronting question.
" Yes, I do," she replied ; and she was right. This was
the Hon. Miss Mackenzie, a descendant of the Earl of
Seaforth, in Scotland. She was of a family long pro-
scribed as being adherents of the House of Stuart.
Her father was restored, I understood, to the Barony-
only of Seaforth, and had been Governor of one of the
West India islands. I found, however, that her distinc-
tion at Rome did not depend merely on her family,
but that she had the reputation of being a woman of
taste and sense, and the friend of artists. I was, there-
fore, gratified by an invitation to call on her next day.
On my calling, she received me laughing. " You are
come very opportunely," she said ; " for I have just
received a letter in which you are named. It is from
Mr. Landor. He writes : ' I wish some accident may
have brought you acquainted with Mr. Robinson, a
friend of Wordsworth. He was a barrister, and, not-
withstanding, both honest and modest — a character I
never heard of before : indeed, I have never met with
one who was either.' " This, of course, fixed me in
Miss Mackenzie's favourable opinion, and the intimacy
ripened quickly. Through her I became acquainted
with artists, &c., and in some measure she supplied
the loss of Lord Northampton's house, which was not
opened to parties during the season, in consequence of
the death of Lady Northampton.

December 2,rd. — Among my acquaintances was a sculp-
tor, Ewing, whom I wished to serve ; and understanding
he originally worked in small, making miniature copies
of famous antique statues, I intimated a wish to have

H. C. R.'s Bust by Ewing.

491

something of that kind from him ; for which he ex-
pressed himself gratefully. He, however, ultimately
succeeded in inducing me to sit for my bust, which he
executed in marble. The bust has great merit, for it
is a strong likeness, without being disgusting*

December 2^th. — To relieve myself from the unen-
joyable Italian reading, which was still a labour, I
occasionally allowed myself to read German ; and at
this time Menzel's '^Deutsche Literatur" afforded me
much amusement. It is a piquant work. In a chapter
on the German Religionists, he classifies the different
bodies subjectively : calling the Roman Catholic
system " Sinnenglauben" from the influence of the
senses ; the Lutheran scheme, " Wortglauben " (word-
faith) ; and the religion of the Pietists, " Gefuhlsglau-
ben" (faith of the feelings). It was thus I was
employed at the close of the year at Rome, in the
vain attempt to master a language and literature for
which I was already too old.

1831.
H. C. R. TO T. R.

January 2'jth, 1831.
I have been within the walls of five Italian houses,
at evening parties : at three, music, and no con-
versation ; all, except one, held in cold dark rooms,
the floors black, imperfectly covered with drugget,
and no fire ; conversation, to me at least, very dull —
that may be my fault ; the topics, theatre, music,
personal slander ; for religion, government, litera-

* This bust is now in the possession of H. C. R.'s niece, Mrs. Robinson.

Chap.xvii.
1830.

Menzel's
Deutsche
Literatur.

Evening

parties in

Italy.

492

Italian Receptions.

Chap.xvii.

I83I.

Flaxman's

lodging at

Home.

Remem-
bered by his
hump.

ture were generally excluded from polite company. If
ever religion or government be alluded to, it is in a
tone of subdued contempt ; for though at Florence I
saw many professed literati, here I haVe not seen one ;
and, except at one house, of which the mistress is a
German, where tea was handed round, I have never
seen even a cup of water offered !

January ^otk. — I heard, partly from Miss Denman,
and partly from the artists, where Flaxman lived when
he came to Rome, and that it was in a sort of chocolate-
house, formerly kept by three girls who were so elegant
as to be called "the Graces ;" but I was informed that
they lived to be so old, that they became " the Furies."
One I had heard was dead. I ordered some chocolate,
and inquired of one of the women whether she recol-
lected an English sculptor, Flaxman, living with her
many years before. " No," she did not. I pressed my
questions. At length she asked, " Was he married } "
" Yes." Then came the conclusive question, " Had he
a hump ? " I give the strong word, for she said, " Non
gobbo?" and on my saying, "Yes," she clasped her
hands, and exclaimed, " Oh, he was an angel ! — they
were both angels." Then she ran to the staircase, and
cried out, " Do, sister, come down, here 's a gentleman
who knew Hiimpy." She came down, and then all
kinds of questions followed. Was he dead } Was she
dead .-' Then praises of his goodness. " He was so
affectionate, so good, so generous — never gave trouble —
anxious to be kind to everybody." But neither did
they recollect his name, nor did they know anything

Flaxman. — A New Pope.

493

of him as an artist They only knew that he was
" Humpy," and an " Angel." I never heard Flaxman
mentioned at Rome but with honour. I heard there
was, in a shop, a portrait of him in oils, but I was
unable to find it.

H. C. R. TO T. R.

yanuary 2'jth, 183 1.
Since the incarceration of the Cardinals, the city
has been only a little more dull than usual. On the
1 2th of December, the day before their imprisonment,
I went to look at their miserable little lodgings ;
very few have fireplaces, and some not even stoves.
You know that the election is by ballot, and that
two-thirds of the votes must concur. Twice a day the
ballot papers are examined and regularly burnt. And
idlers are to be seen every day after eleven o'clock on
the Monte Cavallo, watching for the smoke that comes
from an iron flue. When it is seen, they cry, " Ecco il
ftcmo ! No Pope to-day." It is quite notorious that
there are parties in the Sacro Collegio, and hitherto their
bitterness is said to have gone on increasing rather than
diminishing. The profane are, as it happens, very
merry or very wrathful at the delay — so injurious to
the city. During the widowhood of the Church, there
can be no Carnival, and that must, if at all, be now in
less than a fortnight. The leaders, Albani and Bar-
netti, are the objects of daily reproach. The lampoons
or pasquinades during the conclave have been famous
for centuries. I have seen several, and shall bring a
few home with me as curiosities ; but I have found little

Chap.xvii.

I83I.

Choice of a
new Pope.

494

Election of Pope.

Chap.xvii.

I83I.

Pasquin-
ades.

On the

imperial
veto.

wit in them. The most significant is a dialogue be-
tween the Santo Spirito and the City of Rome. The
Santo Spirito proposes successively all the leading
cardinals. The City has objections to all. At length
the Santo Spirito is tired out, and gives the choice to
the City, which fixes on an old man in a state of dotage.
And he is chosen only on condition that he should do
nothing.

Every day the food that is carried in to the cardinals
is examined, that no secret letters may be sent. Indeed
all possible precautions are taken, as if the cardinals
were as corrupt as the electors of an English borough.
The other day, objecting to a sensible abbe, that I
could not comprehend how the Emperor of Austria,
&c., should have a veto on the act of the Holy Spirit
(for all the pretensions of the Catholic Church, like
those of the Quakers, rest on the assumption of the
direct and immediate interference of the Holy Spirit),
he answered, " And why should not Providence act by
the instrumentality of an emperor or king V^

In the meanwhile, in consequence of this delay, the
lodgings are empty, and the foreigners unusually few.
One innovation has been permitted — the theatres are
open, and the ambassadors give balls. But a real Car-
nival— that is, masking — would be almost as bad as a
Reformation. However, there is a current prophecy,
according to which the election ought to take place
to-morrow. We shall see

February 2'^rd, 183 1.
Four days afterwards, 31st January, 183 1, while

Coronation of Pope.

495

chatting with a countryman in the forenoon, I heard
a discharge of cannon. I left my sentence unfinished,
rushed into the street, already full of people, and ran
up Monte Cavallo. It was already crowded, and I
witnessed in dumb show the proclamation of the new
Pope from the balcony of the palace. No great interest
seemed really to be felt by the people in the street, but,
when I talked with the more intelligent, I found that
the election gave general satisfaction. Bunsen, the
Prussian Minister, and in general all the Liberals, con-
sider the choice as a most happy one. Cardinal Cap-
pellari has the reputation of being at the same time
learned, pious, liberal, and prudent. The only draw-
back on his popularity is his character of monk. This
makes him unpopular with many who have no means
of forming a personal judgment. There was, however,
one consequence of the election, independent of the
man — it assured the people of their beloved Carnival.
The solemn procession from the Quirinal to St. Peter's
presented nothing remarkable ; but on Sunday, the 6th,
the coronation took place — a spectacle so august and
magnificent, that it equalled all my imaginings. So
huge an edifice is St. Peter's that, though all the
decently dressed people of Rome had free entrance, it
was only full, not crowded, I was considerate enough
to go early, and so lucky, that I had even a seat
and elevated stand in an excellent situation, and wit-
nessed every act of sacrifice and adoration. All the
cardinals and bishops and high clergy attended His
Holiness, seated aloft. The military, the paraphernalia
of the Roman Church, made a gorgeous spectacle. Nor

Chap.xvii.

I83I.

Pope
proclaimed.

The
Carnival.

Coronation
of Pope.

496

Legations in Insurrection.

Chap.xvii.

I83I.

Sic transit.

The
adoration.

Insurrec-
tion in the
Legations.

was the least significant and affecting object the burn-
ing tow, which flashed and was no more, while the
herald cried aloud, " So passes away the glory of the
world," — a truth that is at this moment felt with a
poignancy unknown to the Roman hierarchy since it was
endowed with the gift of Constantine, The Pope was
consecrated a bishop, he administered mass, he received
the adoration (the word used here) of the cardinals, who
kissed his slipper, hand, and face. The bishops were
admitted only to the hand, and the priests advanced no
higher than the foot.

The excitement of this most imposing of solemnities
had scarcely subsided when another excitement, suc-
ceeded to it, which lasted during the remainder of my
abode at Rome. Almost immediately the report was
spread that the Legations were in a state of insurrec-
tion. My journal, during the greater part of the
next three months, is nearly filled with this subject.
It is not possible now to recall to mind the fluc-
tuations of feeling which took place. I gave to my
acquaintance the advice of my friend Bottom, " But
wonder on till truth makes all things plain." In the
little anxiety I felt I was perhaps as foolish as the
Irishman in the house a-fire, " I am only a lodger."

H. C. R. TO W. Pattisson, Esq., and his Sons.

Florence, i^th June, 183 1.
I suspect you, with all other English-
men, are so absorbed in the politics of the day, and

Italy. — Revolutionary Movements.

497

have been so for so long a time, as to be scarcely aware Chap.xvif.
of the stimulating situation in which I have been placed, 1831.
arising out of a state of uncertainty and expectation
almost without a parallel. You have perhaps heard that
the larger part of the subjects of the Pope renounced j
their allegiance, and that the Government, being utterly i
worn out, subsisting only by the sufferance of the great |
Catholic powers, and retaining the allegiance of the 1 Amtrian
capital merely by the subsistence it afforded to its idle 1 p-oteawn.
population, seemed on the brink of dissolution. Rome
was left without troops, and the Government without
revenue. For weeks we expected the enemy. Had he
come, there might have been a riot of the Trasteverini
(a sort of Birmingham Church-and-King mob), who live
beyond the Tiber, but there would have been no resist-
ance. In imbecility, however, the insurgent Government
rivalled the Papal, and, as you have perhaps heard, the
Italian revolution was suppressed with even more ease
than it was effected. The truth is, that but for the
intervention of Austria, the Italian Governments (with
the exception of Tuscany) had contrived to render
themselves so odious to the people, that any rebellion,
supported by the slightest force, was sure to succeed.
A single Austrian regiment, however, was enough to
disperse all the revolutionists in the peninsula the
moment they found that the French would not make
war in their behalf

I find an insulated incident on Wednesday, the i6th
of February. Breakfasting at the Aurora, and drinking
milk in my chocolate, I was requested to sit in the back

VOL. II. K K

Prohibition

of milk in

Lent.

498

The Faith in Relics.

Chap.xvii.

I83I.

Relics.

St. Peters

chains.

Roman

Catliolic

tradition.

Soirie at
Horace
Verne t's.

part of the room, where it could not be seen that I was
drinking a. J?rohidited article.

February 2'jth. — At the San Pietro in VincuHs, I was
amused by seeing a sweet child, five or six years old,
kiss with a childish fervour the chains of St. Peter.
The good priest, their ciistode, could not suppress a
smile. This led to a few words on relics between
me and him. He belonged to the honest and simple-
hearted. " Is it quite certain that these are really
St. Peter's chains.?" I asked. "You are not called
on to believe in them,", he answered ; " it is no article
of faith." — " But do you permit the uneducated to
believe what you do not yourselves believe.''" — "We
do not disbelieve. All we can possibly know is this :
for ages beyond human memory, our ancestors have
affirmed their belief. We do not think they would
have willingly deceived us. And then the belief
does good. It strengthens pious feelings. It does
no harm, s.urely." This is what the priests are perpe-
tually falling back on. They are utilitarians. I could
get no farther with this priest. He asked questions
of me in return ; and seemed to lose all his dislike of
the Anglican Church when I told him, to his astonish-
ment, that we had not only bishops, but archdeacons,
canons, and minor canons. On this he exclaimed, with
an amusing earnestness, " The English Church is no bad
thing."

March \ph. — Mayer took me to a soiree at Horace
Vernet's, on the Pincian Hill — ^the palace of the French
Academy. It was quite a new scene to me. Nothing
like it had come before me at Rome. French only was

Horace Vernet.

499

spoken, and of course the talk was chiefly on politics and
the state of Rome. I found the young artists by no
means alarmed. Twenty high-spirited, well-built young
men had nothing to fear from a Roman mob in a house
built, like the Medici Palace, upon an elevation. It
would stand a siege well. Horace Vernet was, beyond
all doubt, a very clever man ; yet I doubt whether any
picture by him could ever give me much pleasure. He
had the dangerous gift of great facility. I was once in
his studio when he was at work. There were a dozen
persons in the room, talking at their ease. They did
not disturb him in the least. On another occasion I
saw a number of portraits about : they seemed to me
execrable ; but they might be the work of pupils.
Vernet's vivacity gave me the impression of his being
a man of general ability, destined to give him a social,
but an evanescent, reputation.

H. C. R. TO T. R.

Rome, April 2nd, 183 1.
During the last month the news of the day and
Italian reading have shared my attention. I have had
little to do with religious ceremonies. I did, however,
witness the blessing of the palms ; and I have heard
the Miserere once. Branches of the palm are peeled,
and the peel is cut, and plaited, and braided, and curled
into all sorts of fantastic forms. Each cardinal, bishop,
and priest holds one, and there is a long detail of
kissing. The solemn step of the procession, the rich
dresses of the cardinals, and the awful music, would
have made a stronger impression if I had not witnessed

K K 2

C'HAP.XVtl.

1831.

Vernet's
facility at
his work.

//. C. R.'s
misconcep-
tion 0/ the
painter.

500

Landor on Mary Lamb.

Chap. XVII.

1831.

The
Miserere.

A supper to
Cornelius.

Landor on

' ' Mrs.
Leicester s
School."

the coronation. The Miserere is unhke all othSr music.
It is sung without any accompaniment of instruments,
and is deeply affecting, and every now and then start-
ling. I was so much touched that I should have
believed any story of its effect on those who are not
nearly so insensible to music as you know me to be.

April yth. — A supper given to Cornelius in the Villa
Albani. Gotzenberger was the impresario. The eating
bad ; but I sat next Thorwaldsen. There were many
persons of note, amongst others Bunsen ; and in all
there were sixty present, to do honour to a man who
did not afterwards disappoint the expectations formed
of him.

W. S. Landor to H. C. R.

April, 1 83 1.
It is now several days since I read the book you
recommended to me, "Mrs. Leicester's School ;" and I
feel as if I owed a debt in deferring to thank you for
many hours of exquisite delight. Never have I read
anything in prose so many times over, within so short a
space of time, as " The Father's Wedding-day." Most
people, I understand, prefer the first tale — in truth a
very admirable one — but others could have written it.
Show me the man or woman, modern or ancient, who
could have written this one sentence : " When I was
dressed in my new frock, I wished poor mamma was
alive, to see how fine I was on papa's wedding-day ;
and I ran to my favourite station at her bedroom
door." How natural, in a little girl, is this incongruity

Thorwaldsen. — Leavmir Rome.

501

— this impossibility ! Richardson would have given his
"Clarissa," and Rousseau his "Heloi'se," to have imagined
it. A fresh source of the pathetic bursts out before us,
and not a bitter one. If your Germans can show us
anything comparable to what I have transcribed, I
would almost undergo a year's gurgle of their language
for it. The story is admirable throughout — incompar-
able, inimitable

Yours, &c.,

W. Landor.

May Otth. — In the evening, I was with my friend Miss
Mackenzie. She asked me whether I had heard any
reports connecting her in any way with Thorwaldsen.
I said she must be aware that every one in a gossiping
world took the liberty of talking about the private
affairs of every one ; that I had heard it said that
it was understood that Thorwaldsen was to marry her;
and that the cause of the contract being broken re-
flected no dishonour on her. She smiled, and desired
me to say what that cause was understood to be. I
said, simply that he had formed a connection with an
Italian woman, which he did not dare to break. She
threatened his life, and he thought it was in danger.
Miss Mackenzie said she believed this to be the fact,
and on that ground Thorwaldsen begged to be released.
She added, that he was very culpable in suffering the
affair to go on so long.

I left Rome early on the morning of the 6th of May.
Goethe says, in his " Italian Journey," that every one
who leaves Rome asks himself, "When shall I be

Chap.xvii.

1831.

Miss
Mackenzie.

Thor-
waldsen

and
scandal.

On leaving
Rome.

502

Florence. — W. S. Landor.

Chap.xvii.

1831.

Florence.
Landor.

The

guardian

dog.

Marchio-
ness
Sacrati.

able to come here again ? " There is great unity of
effect produced by Rome. It is the city of tombs and
ruins. The environs are a pestiferous marsh, and on
all sides you have images of death. What aged noble-
man was it who preferred his dead son to any living son
in Christendom .-* Who is there who does not prefer
the ruins of Rome to the new buildings of London and
Paris }

May 2\th. — (Florence.) I was glad to renew my
acquaintance with W, S. Landor, which lasted with
increased pleasure during my second residence at
Florence. My evening walks to Fiesole, and returns
after midnight, were frequent and most delightful,
accompanied by a noble mastiff dog, who deserves
honourable mention from me. This dog never failed
to accompany me from Landor's villa to the gate of
Florence ; and I could never make him leave me till
I was at the gate ; and then, on my patting him on
the head, as if he were conscious his protection was
no longer needed, he would run off rapidly. The
fire-flies on the road were of a bright yellow — the
colour of the moon, as if sparks from that flame. I
would name them "earth-stars," as well as "glow-
worms," or " fire-flies."

May 2yih. — I made my first call on a cJiaracter,
whose parties I occasionally attended in the evening.
She was one of three remarkable Italian women men-
tioned by Lady Morgan — all of whom I saw. She
was an old woman, more than seventy years of age,
but a very fluent talker. Her anti-Buonapartism
pleased me. This was the Marchioness Sacrati. In her

On Queen Caroline.

503

youth she was handsome. Her husband left her poor, and
she obtained a pension from the Pope, in the character
of a vedova pericolante (" a widow in danger ") ; it
being suggested that, from poverty, her virtue might
be in peril. This is a known class ; perhaps, I should
say, a satirical name. She lived in stately apartments,
as suited her rank. I saw men of rank, and officers,
and very smart people at her parties, but very few
ladies. She herself was the best talker of the
party — more frequently in French than Italian. It
happened that, one evening, I went before the usual
hour, and was some time with her tete-i-tete. It
was a lucky circumstance, for she spoke more freely
with me alone than she could in mixed company ;
and every word she said which concerned the late
Queen was worth recollecting. For, though the
Marchioness might not be an unexceptionable witness,
where she could have a motive to misrepresent, yet
I should not disbelieve what she said this evening.
Something led me to ask whether she had been in
England, when she smiled and said, " You will not
think better of me when I tell you that I went as
a witness for your Queen." — " But you were not sum-
moned } " — " Oh, no ! I could say nothing that was of
use to her. All I could say was that, when I saw
her in Italy, she was always in the society that suited
her rank ; and that I saw nothing then that was
objectionable. She requested me to go, and she was
so unhappy that I could not refuse her." — "You saw,
then, her Procureur-G/n&al, Monsieur Brougham." —
" Oh, yes ! That Monsieur Brog-gam was a grand

Chap.xvii.

I83I.

Queen
Caroline.

About Lord

Brougham

and the

Queen.

504

Queen Caroline and the Counsel.

Chap.xvii.

1831.

About Lord
Demiian.

coquinr — " Take care, Madame, what you say ; he is
now Chancellor." — " N'importe ; c'est un grand coquin,"
— " What makes you use such strong language ? " —
" Because, to answer the purposes of his ambition, he
forced the Queen to come to England." — " Indeed ! " —
" The Queen told me so ; and Lady Hamilton confirmed
it. I said to her, when I first saw her, * Why are you
here .''' She said, * My lawyer made me come. I saw
him at St. Omer, and I asked him whether I should
go to England. He said. If you are conscious
of your innocence, you must go. If you are aware
of weaknesses, keep away.' " The Marchioness raised
her voice and said, "Monsieur, quelle femme, meme
du bas peuple, avouera a son avocat qu'elle a des
foiblesses .'' C'etoit un traitre ce Monsieur Brog-gam."
I did not appear convinced by this, and she added,
"One day I was alone with him, when I said, 'Why
did you force this unhappy woman to come here .-'' He
laughed, and replied, ' It is not my fault. If she is
guilty, I cannot make her innocent' "

I also asked her whether she knew the other
lawyer. Monsieur Denman. The change in her tone
was very remarkable, and gave credibility to all she
said. She clasped her hands, and exclaimed, in a
tone of admiration, " O, c'etoit un ange, ce Monsieur
Denman. II n'a jamais doute de Finnocence de la
Reine." Though the Marchioness herself did not, at
first, intimate any opinion on the subject of the
Queen's guilt or innocence, yet she spoke in terms
of just indignation of the King, and of her with more
compassion than blame.

Austria in Italy.

505

It was some weeks after this that I, being alone with
Madame Sacrati, she again spoke of the Queen, and, to
my surprise, said she was convinced of her innocence,
but inveighed against her for her coarseness, and insin-
uated that she was mad. This reminds me that dear
Mary Lamb, who was the very contrast, morally speak-
ing, to Madame Sacrati, once said, " They talk about
the Queen's innocence. I should not think the better of
her, if I were sure she was what is called innocent."
There was a profound truth in this. She, doubtless,
meant that she thought more of the mind and character
than of a mere act, objectively considered.

June i^^th. — I heard to-day from Niccolini an account
of his dealings with the Grand Duke. When his " Na-
bucco " was published, by Capponi, the Emperor of
Austria requested the Grand Duke to punish Niccolini
for it. The Grand Duke replied to the Austrian Min-
ister, "It is but a fable ; there are no names. I will
not act the diviner, to the injury of my subject."
Niccolini was Professor of History and Mythology, in
the Academy of Fine Arts, under the French. The
professorship was abolished on the Restoration, and
Niccolini was made librarian ; but, being dissatisfied
with the Government administration of the academy,
he demanded his dismission. The Grand Duke said,
" Why so } I am satisfied with you." He had the
boldness to reply, "Your Highness, both must be satis-
fied." And he did retire. But when the professorship
was restored, he resumed his ofiice.

During the latter part of my residence in Italy, I
was more frequent than ever in my attendance at the

Chap.xvu.
1831.

Guilty or
innocent f

Niccolini.

5o6

The Italian Drama.

Chap.xvii.

IS3I.

Italian
dramas
generally
turn on
judicial
proceedings

Because
they are
secret.

Modern

dramatic

authors of

Italy.

theatres. And one remark on the Italian drama I must
not omit ; indeed, I ought to have made it before, as it
was forced on me at Naples. There, every modern
play, almost without exception, was founded on inci-
dents connected with judicial proceedings — a singular
circumstance, easy to explain. In Naples especially,
but in all Italy, justice is administered secretly, and
the injustice perpetrated under its abused name con-
stitutes one of the greatest evils of social life. Even
when this is not to be attributed to the Government,
or the magistrate, in the particular case, the bad
state of the law permits it to be done ; and secrecy
aggravates the evil, and perhaps even causes unjust
reproach to fall on the magistrate. Now, it is be-
cause men's deep interest in these matters finds no
gratification in the publicity of judicial proceedings,
that the theatre supplies the place of the court of
justice ; and, for a time, all the plots of plays, domestic
tragedies, turned on the sufferings of the innocent falsely
accused — such as the " Pie voleuse ;" on assuming the
name and character of persons long absent, like the
" Faux Martin Guerre ; "* the forging of wills, conflicting
testimony, kidnapping heirs, the return of persons sup-
posed to be dead, &c., &c. — incidents which universally
excite sympathy. Our reports of proceedings in courts
of justice, while they keep alive this taste, go far
towards satisfying it. In other respects, the Italian
stage is very imperfectly supplied with a Repertoire.
The frigid rhetoric of Alfieri has afforded few subjects

* " Histoire du Faux Martin Guerre. Vol. I. Causes C^lfebres et Interes-
santes. Recueille's par M. Gayot de Pitaval a la Haye. 1735."

Italian Politics.

507

for the stage, and Niccolini still fewer. Gozzi is for-
gotten ; and Goldoni, for want of a better author, is still
listened to. Nota is an inferior Kotzebue, who has
been a few times translated and imitated ; and French
comedy is less frequently resorted to by the Italian
playwrights than German sentimentality — much less
than by the English dramatists. So that there is not
properly an Italian stage. The opera is not included in
this remark ; but that is not national.

At this time, the sanguine hopes entertained by the
friends of liberty, a short time before, in Italy, had
subsided ; and the more discerning already knew, what
was too soon acknowledged, that nothing would be
done for the good cause of civil and religious liberty by
the French Government.

I occasionally saw Leopardi the poet, a man of ac-
knowledged genius, and of irreproachable character.
He was a man of family, and a scholar, but he had a
feeble frame, was sickly, and deformed. He was also
poor, so that his excellent qualities and superior talents
were, to a great degree, lost to the world. He wanted
a field for display — an organ to exercise.

To refer once more to politics. The desire to see
Italy united was the fond wish of most Italian politi-
cians. One of the most respectable of them, Mayer —
not to mention any I was at that time unacquainted
with — used to say, that he would gladly see all Italy
under one absolute sovereign, national independence
being the first of blessings.

But this was not the uniform opinion. A scheme
of a Confederation of Italian states was circulated in I

Chap. XV 1 1.

1831.

Leopardi.

.Italian
> politics.

Italian

Coti/edera-

tion.

5o8

Italian Schemes for the Future.

Chap. XVII.
i8-?i.

On the

Reform

Bill.

the Spring, according to which there was to be a union
of Italian monarchies, consisting of nine states, of
which Rome should be the capital, each independent
in all domestic matters, and having a common revenue,
army, customs, weights and measures, coins, &c. These
were to be Rome, Piedmont, Lombardy, Venice, Liguria,
Ravenna, Etruria, Naples, and Sicily. The fortresses
of the Confederation were to be Venice, Alessandria,
Mantua, and Syracuse. To purchase the consent of
France to this arrangement, many Italians were willing
to sacrifice Savoy and Nice.

There was more plausibility, I thought, in the Abbe
de Pradt's scheme. He would have reduced the number
to three, consisting of North, Central, and South Italy.
Could this ever be, there would be appropriate titles
in Lombard- or Nord-Italia, Toscan-Italia, and Napol-
Italia. Harmless dreams these — that is, the names.

H. C. R. TO Mr. Pattisson and his Sons.

Florence, June 14, 1831.

I really think it fortunate for my

reputation that I am out of the country. I should have
lost my character had I stayed there. I was always a
moderate Reformer ; and, now that success seems at
hand, I think more of the dangers than the promises.
I should never have been fit for a hustings orator. My
gorge rises at the cant of the day ; and finding all the
mob for Reform, I begin to suspect there must be some
hitherto unperceived evil in the measure. And it is
only when I go among the anti -Reformers, and hear
the worse cant and more odious impostures of the old

//. C. R. on Political Reform.

509

Tory party, that I am righted, as the phrase is, and join
the crowd again.

To THE Same.

Turin, September 13, 1831.

I infer, rather than find it expressly

stated, that in your family are pretty nearly all the
varieties of opinion now current in England. Jacob
appears to me to have taken for his oracles Lord Lon-
donderry, Mr. Sadler, and Sir R. Inglis, the Oxford
member. William writes like a hopeful and youthful
Reformer ; and you, with something of the timidity and
anxiety of old age {I may call you old, you know,
without offence, by my six months' seniority), you are
afraid of the consequences of your own former prin-
ciples. To tell the truth, I am (and perhaps from the
same' cause) pretty much in the same state. Now that
the mob are become Reformers, I am alarmed. Indeed,
I have for years perceived this truth, that it seems to be
the great problem of all institutions to put shackles
as well on the people as on the Government. I am so
far anti-democratic, that I would allow the people to do
very little ; but I would enable them to hinder a great
deal. And my fear is, that under the proposed new
House of Commons, there will be no check on popular
passions.

On my way back to England, I spent nearly a fort-
night at Paris, During this fortnight, the most inte-
resting occurrence by far, and which I regret I cannot
adequately describe, was my attendance in the Salle
St. Simonienne, at the service — or, shall I say the per-

Chap.xvii.

I83I.

Timidity of

old
Reformers.

System of
checks a
desidera-
tum.

St.
Simonism.

510

St. Simoniics :

CHAP.XVII.

1831.

Fourier.

A ttemptcd
substitutes
for Chris-
tianity.

fonnance ? — of that, the most recent substitute for Chris-
tian worship. This was, and still remains, the last and
newest French attempt to supersede Christianity. In
my journal, I speak of it as " very national, very idle,
very ridiculous, possibly well-intentioned on the part of
its leaders, whose greatest fault may be unconscious
vanity." I go on in my journal : "And I dare say des-
tined to be very short-lived, unless it can contrive to
acquire a political character, and so gain a permanent
footing in France. In this I was not a false prophet.
But the doctrines of these fanatical unbelievers were
mixed up in men's minds with the more significant and
dangerous speculations of Fourier, closely allied to
politics, and absorbed by them. Alfieri wisely says,
addressing himself to infidels, " It is not enough to cry
out, * It is all a fable,' in order to destroy Christianity.
If it be, invent a better." The St. Simonites could not
do this. In my journal I wrote, " They have rejected
the Christian Revelation, that is, its supernatural vehicle,
but their system of morals is altogether Christian ; and
this they dress out with French sentimentality, instead
of miracles and prophecy." I might have added, had
I thought of Germany at the time, "The German
anti-supernaturalists substituted metaphysics, critical or
ideal, in the place of sentimentality."

It was on Sunday, tJie \st of October, that I was
present at their fonctioji, ecclesiastical or theatric. Their
salle was a neat theatre ; the area, or pit, filled with
well-dressed women ; the scena occupied by the members
of the society, who face the area. In the centre were
two truncated columns ; behind these, three arm-chairs;

Their Church Service.

511

in the centre one the orator, his assistants at his side ;
in front, three rows of galleries. I went early, and had
a front seat. When the leaders came, the members
rose. " Why so .'" I asked of a plain man near me.
" Cest le Pape, le Chef de VEglise" he answered, with
great simplicity. His Holiness, youngish and not gen-
teel, waved his hand, rose, and harangued for an hour
or more. I heard distinctly, and understood each word
by itself, but I could not catch a distinct thought. It
seemed to be a rhapsody — a declamation against the
abuses of our political existence — a summary of the
history of mankind, such as any man acquainted with
modern books, and endowed with a flow of fine words,
might continue uttering as long as he had any breath in
his body. For the edification of the ladies and young
men, there was an address to Venus, and also one to
Jupiter. The only part of the oration which had a
manifest object, and which was efficient, was a sarcastic
portrait of Christianity — not the Christianity of the
Gospel, but that of the Established Churches. This
was the studied finale, and the orator was rewarded
by shouts of applause.

After a short pause, he was followed by a very pale,
smock-faced youth, with flaxen hair. I presumed that
he delivered his maiden speech, as, at the end of it, he
was kissed by at least ten of his comrades, and the
unconcealed joy of his heart at the applause he gained
was really enviable. His oration was on behalf of " La
classe la plus nombreuse et la plus pauvre" which he
repeated incessantly, as a genuine Benthamite repeats,
" The greatest good of the greatest number." It was an

Chap. XV 1 1.

1831.

Thefirst
sermon.

Second
sermon.

512

S^. Simonian Conference.

Chap.xvii.

I83I.

On charity.

Conference.

False report

of Goethe's

death.

exhortation to charity, and, with a very few alterations,
like those the reader might have made in correcting the
proofs at the printing-office (such as the motive being
the love of Christ, instead of the love of one's neigh-
bour), would have suited any of the thousand and one
charity sermons delivered every six months in every
great city, in all churches and chapels. Now in all
this, as there was nothing remarkable, so there was
nothing ridiculous, save and except that the orator,
every now and then, was congratulating himself on
" Ces nonvelles idees^ After this short oration, there
followed a conference. Two speakers placed themselves
in chairs, in the front of the proscenium ; but they were
of a lower class, and as I expected something like the
street dialogues between the quack and the clown, or,
at the best, what it seemed to be, a paraphrastic com-
mentary on the " novelties " of the young gentleman, I
followed the example of others, and came away. So I
wrote twenty years ago. My impression was a correct
one. St. Simonism was suppressed by the Government
of Louis • Philippe, Its partisans were lost, as I have
already intimated, in the sturdier and coarser founders
of what has not been simply foolish but, in various
ways, mischievous, namely, Communism or Socialism.
I left Paris on the 4th of October, in the morning,
and, travelling all night, reached Calais the next morn-
ing. At Meurice's Hotel, I heard of the death of
Goethe. At the age of eighty-two, it could not be
unexpected, and, as far as the active employment of
his marvellous talents is concerned, was not to be re-
gretted. He had done his work ; but though not the

Reported Death of Goetlie.

513

extinction, yet, to us, the eclipse of the mightiest intel-
lect that has shone on the earth for centuries (so, at
least, I felt) could not be beheld without pain. It has
been my rare good fortune to have seen a large pro-
portion of the greatest minds of our age, in the fields
of poetry and speculative philosophy, such as Words-
worth, Coleridge, Schiller, Tieck, but none that I have
ever known came near him.

On the 6th of October I crossed the Channel, and
on the 7th I reached London, too late to go to any of
my friends. Having secured a bed at the Old Bell,
Holborn, and taken a late dinner there, I went to the
Procters', in Perceval Street, where was my old friend
Mrs. Collier, and the cordial reception I met with from
them cheered me. I returned to my inn, and was
awakened in the morning by the shout of the vociferous
newsmen, " The Lords have thrown out the Reform
Bill!"

Chap.xvii.

I83I.

Goethe the
greatest

vian of
modern

times.

London,

The
Colliers,

VOL. II.

L L

514

The Lords throw out the Reform Bill.

.Ch. XVIII.
1831.

Reform

Bill thrown

out of the

iMrds.

O ' Connell
counsel

before the
Lords.

CHAPTER XVIII.

IN ENGLAND AGAIN.

October lOth. — For the last three days there has been
a succession of agreeable feelings in meeting with my
old friends and acquaintance. Indeed these meetings
will for some time constitute my chief business. In
the evening, I stepped into the Athenaeum to inquire
the news, there being a general anxiety in consequence
of the important occurrence of the night before, or
rather of the morning. The Lords rejected the Reform
Bill by a majority of forty-one. The fact is in every
one's mouth, but I have not yet met with any one who
ventures to predict what the Ministry will do on the
occasion.

I breakfasted with William Pattisson, and accom-
panied him to Westminster Hall. He was engaged
in an appeal to the Lords, O'Connell on the other
side. I shook hands with O'Connell, and exchanged
a few words with him. I was pleased with his speech
before the Chancellor. It was an appeal against the
Irish Chancellor's setting aside certain documents as
obtained by fraud. With great mildness of manner,
address, and discretion in his arguments, O'Connell pro-
duced a general impression in his favour.

Lamb at Enfield.

515^

October \2th. — Finished the evening at the Athenaeum
and at Aders'. I found Mrs. Aders in some agitation, as
one of her friends had been in danger of being seriously
hurt on the balcony of her house by a large stone flung
by the mob in the afternoon. There had been an immense
crowd accompanying the procession with the addresses
to the King on account of the rejection of the Bill by
the Lords. At the Athenaeum, I chatted with D'Israeli
and Ayrton. Ayrton says, on authority, that a com-
promise has taken place, and that the Bill is to pass
the Lords, with only a few modifications to save their
character,

October i6t/L — Breakfasted at home, and late, so that
it was between one and two when I reached Lamb,
having ridden on the stage to Edmonton, and walked
thence to Enfield. I found Lamb and his sister board-
ing with the Westwoods — good people, who, I dare say,
take care of them. Lamb has rendered himself their
benefactor by getting a place for their son in Aders'
counting-house. They return his services by attention,
which he and his sister need ; but he feels the want of the
society he used to have. Both he and Miss Lamb looked
somewhat older, but not more than almost all do whom
I have closely noticed since my return. They were
heartily glad to see me. After dinner, I was anxious
to leave them before it was dark, and the Lambs
accompanied me, but only for a short distance. Lamb
has begged me to come after dinner, and take a bed
at his house ; and so I must. The evening fine, and I
enjoyed the walk to Mr. Relph's. The beauty of the
sky was not, indeed, that of Italy ; but the verdure was

L L 3

Ch. XVIII.

1831.

Reform
Bill.

Lamb.

Affluence of
England.

5i6

Rammohun Roy.

Ch, XVIII.
1831.

Rammohun
Roy.

His Creed.

English, and the succession of handsome houses, and
the population of affluent people, quite peculiar to
England. No other country can show anything like it.
These covered ways and shady roads, with elegant
houses at every step, each concealed except in its
immediate neighbourhood — how superior to the flaring
open scenery of the vaunted Vale of Arno !

October lyth. — Went to Highbury by way of Perce-
val Street. I arrived late at Mr. Bischoff's, having
mistaken the dinner-time by an hour. Of little mo-
ment this. I found a large party assembled to see the
famous Brahmin, Rammohun Roy, the Indian Rajah.

Rem.* — Rammohun Roy published a volume entitled
"The Precepts of Jesus," closely resembling a work
for which a Frenchman was punished under Charles X.,
it being alleged that to select the moral parts of the
Gospel, excluding the supernatural, must be done with
the insidious design of recommending Deism. That
Rammohun Roy was a Deist, with Christian morals, is
probable. He took care, however, not to lose caste, for
the preservation of which the adherence to precise
customs is required, not the adoption of any mode of
thinking. He died in the year 1833, and I was
informed by Mr. Crawford, who was acquainted with
the Brahmin's man-servant, that during the last years
of his life he was assiduously eniployed in reading the
Shasters — the Holy Scriptures of his Church. Voltaire
says somewhere, that were he a Brahmin, he would die
with a cow's tail in his hand. Rammohun Roy did not
deserve to be coupled with the French scoffer in this

* Written in 1851.

Praed.

S^7

way. He was a highly estimable character. He be-
lieved as much of Christianity as one could reasonably
expect any man would believe who was brought up in
a faith including a much larger portion of miraculous
pretensions, without being trained or even permitted,
probably, to investigate and compare evidence. He was
a fine man, and very interesting, though different from
what I expected. He had a broad laughing face. He
talked English very well — better than most foreigners.*
Unfortunately, when I saw him, he talked on European
politics, and gave expression to no Oriental sentiment
or opinion. Not a word was said by him that might
not have been said by a European. This rather dis-
appointed me ; so after dinner I played whist, of which
I was ashamed afterwards.

October 22nd. — At the Bury Quarter Sessions, I was
invited to dine at the Angel by the Bar, but I refused
the invitation, and only went up in the evening ; then,
however, I spent a few hours very agreeably. Austin
was the great talker, of course. Scarcely anything but
the Reform Bill talked of much. Praed, the M.P., and
new member of the circuit since my retirement, was
the only oppositionist. He spoke fluently, and not ill
of the Bill.

Rem.-\ — Praed died young. In one particular he was
superior to all the political young men of his time — in
taste and poetical aspirations. His poems have been
collected. I am not much acquainted with them, but

• To a high-caste Hindoo, bred at Calcutta, English was almost a mother
tongue,
f Written in 1852.

Ch, xviii.
1831.

Praed.

5i8

Landor oti Flowers.

Ch. xvhi.
1831.

Gardens.

Bristol riot.

The

Clarksons.

they are at least works of taste. Praed had the manners
of a gentleman.

W. S. Landor to H. C. R.

Florence {received October, 1831.]

Miss Mackenzie tells me that she

has lost some money by a person in Paris. If she had
taken my advice, she would have bought a villa here,
and then the money had been saved. It appears that
she has a garden, at least ; and this, in my opinion, is
exactly the quantity of ground that a wise person could
desire. I am about to send her some bulbs and curious
plants. Her sixty-two tuberoses are all transplanted
by the children : I have not one of these delightful
flowers. I like white flowers better than any others ;
they resemble fair women. Lily, tuberose, orange, and
the truly English syringa, are my heart's delight. I do
not mean to say that they supplant the rose and violet
in my affections, for these are our first loves, before we
grew too fond of considering, and too fond of displaying
our acquaintance with, others of sounding titles. . . .

W. S. Landor.

November ist. — Read the papers at the coffee-house.
Sad account of a riot at Bristol, It is to be feared very
bloody — a proof that the mob are ready to shed blood
for the Bill. For what would they not shed blood }

November ^th. — I rode to Ipswich by an early stage,
a new one to me. I found the Clarksons as I expected.
Mrs. Clarkson thinner, but not in worse health than
three years ago ; and Clarkson himself much older, and
nearly blind. They received me most kindly, and we

Visit to Clarkson.

519

spent the whole afternoon and evening in interesting
friendly gossip.

November 6th. — I did not stir out of the house to-day.
It was wet, and I enjoyed the seclusion. I sat and read
occasionally, and at intervals chatted with Mr. and Mrs.
Clarkson. Mr. Clarkson gave me to read a MS., drawn
up for his daughter-in-law, containing a summary of
religious doctrines from the lips of Jesus Christ. The
chapter on future punishments particularly interested
me ; but I found that Mr. Clarkson had, contrary to his
intention, written so as to imply his belief in the
eternity of future punishments, which he does not
believe. He was anxious to alter this in his own hand,
and with great difficulty made the necessary alteration
in one place.

November loth. — Read this morning, in the July
Quarterly Rez'iew, a most interesting, but to me humi-
liating, article on the inductive philosophy — Herschel's
"Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy" sup-
plying the text. It is an admirable and, even to me,
delightful survey of the realms of science ; the terra
incognita appearing, if possible, to be the most curious.
It is remarkable that the more there is known, the more
it is perceived there is to be known. And the infinity
of knowledge to be acquired runs parallel with the
infinite faculty of knowing, and its development. Some-
times I feel reconciled to my extreme ignorance, by
thinking, if I know nothing, the most learned know next
to nothing. Yet, —

" On this thought I will not brood,
. . . . it unmans me quite."

Ch. xviii.
1831.

Eternity of
future pun-
ishment.

Study of
Science.

520

Landor on the Lake Poets.

Ch. XVIII.
1831.

Baptism of
desire.

Flaxman's

Italian

notes.

Landor on

the Lake

Poets.

On Eli a.

I never can be a man of science, but it is something to
have a disinterested love of science, and a pleasure in
the progress which others make in it. This is analogous
to the baptism of desire of the liberal Catholics, who
give the means and possibility of salvation to those
who, though not actually baptized, desire baptism, and
would, if they could, be members of the Church in which
alone salvation is to be found.

November \^th. — Took tea with Miss Flaxman and
Miss Denman. They were in low spirits. Mr. Thomas
Denman is very dangerously ill, and Miss Flaxman has
had a bad fall. However, we fell into interesting con-
versation, and they showed me Flaxman's notes written
in Italy. His criticisms on the works of art in Italy are
a corroboration of the common opinion ; but he speaks
of a great work by one Gaddi as one that, with a little
less hardness and deeper shade, would have been far
superior to any of Raphael's Holy Families.

W. S. Landor to H. C. R.

November 6th, 1831.

I grieve at the illness of Coleridge,

though I never knew him. I hope he may recover ;
for Death will do less mischief with the cholera than
with the blow that deprives the world of Coleridge. A
million blades of grass, renewable yearly, are blighted
with less injury than one rich fruit-tree. I am in
the habit of considering Coleridge, Wordsworth, and
Southey as three towers of one castle ; and whichever

tower falls first must shake the other two

Since I saw you, I have read in the New Monthly

His Love for Lamb.

521

Magazine the papers signed " Elia." Mr, Brown lent
me the book. The papers are admirable ; the language
truly English. We have none better, new or old.
When I say, I am " sorry " that Charles Lamb and his
sister are suffering, the word is not an idle or a faint
one. I feel deep pain at this intelligence — pain certainly
not disproportioned to the enjoyment I have received
by their writings. Besides, all who know them per-
sonally speak of them with much affection. Were they
ever in Italy, or are they likely to come } If so, I can
offer them fruits, flowers, horses, and Parigi, To those
who are out of health, or out of spirits, this surely is a bet-
ter country than England. I love green fields, and once
loved being wet through, in the Summer or Spring. In
that season, when I was a boy and a youth, I always
walked with my hat in my hand if it rained ; and only
left off the practice when I read that Bacon did it,
fearing to be thought guilty of affectation or imita-
tion.

I have made my visit to Miss Burney, and spent
above an hour with her. She is one of the most agree-
able and intelligent women I have met abroad, and
spoke of you as all who know you must speak.

I look forward with great desire to the time when
you will come again amongst us. Arnold, who clapped
his hands at hearing I had a letter from you, ceased
only to ask me, "But does not he say when he will
come back } " My wife and Julia send the same

wishes

W. S. Landor.

Ch, xviii.
1831.

Ifa/y as a
residence.

Miss
Burney,

522

The Wordsivorths

Ch. xviii.
i.831.

Dora
M 'ords-
worth.

Perplexing
fears of
change.

Miss Wordsworth to H. C. R.

Friday, December ist, 183 1.
Had a rumour of your arrival in England reached
us before your letter of yesterday's post, you 'would
ere this have received a welcoming from me, in the
name of each member of this family ; and, further,
would have been reminded of your promise to come to
Rydal as soon as possible after again setting foot on
English ground. When Dora heard of your return,
and of my intention to write, she exclaimed, after a
charge that I would recall to your mind your written
promise, " He must come and spend Christmas with us.
I wish he would ! " Thus, you see, notwithstanding
your petty jarrings, Dora was always, and now is, a
loving friend of yours. I am sure I need not add, that
if you can come at the time mentioned, so much the
more agreeable to us all, for it is fast approaching ; but
that, whenever it suits you (for you may have Christmas
engagements with your own family) to travel so far
northward, we shall be rejoiced to see you ; and, what-
ever other visitors we may chance to have, we shall
always be able to find a corner for you. We are thank-
ful that you are returned with health unimpaired — I
may say, indeed, amended — for you were not perfectly
well when you left England. You do not mention
rheumatic pains, so I trust they have entirely left you.
As to your being grown older — if you mean feebler in
mind — my brother says, " No such thing ; your judgment
has only attained autumnal ripeness." Indeed, my
dear friend, I wonder not at your alarms, or those of
any good man, whatever may have been his politics

agitated by Reform Terrors.

5^3

from youth to middle age, and onward to the dedine of
life. But I will not enter on this sad and perplexing
subject : I find it much more easy to look with patience
on the approach of pestilence, or any affliction which it
may please God to cast upon us without the interven-
tion of man, than on the dreadful results of sudden and
rash changes, whether arising from ambition, or ignorance,
or brute force. I am, however, getting into the subject
without intending it, so will conclude with a prayer that
God may enlighten the heads and hearts of our men of
power, whether Whigs or Tories, and that the madness
of the deluded people may settle. This last effect can
only be produced, I fear, by exactly and severely exe-
cuting the law, seeking out and punishing the guilty,
and letting all persons see that we do not willingly
oppress the poor. One visible blessing seems already
to be coming upon us through the alarm of the cholera.
Every rich man is now obliged to look into the bye-
lanes and corners inhabited by the poor, and many
crying abuses are (even in our little town of Ambleside)
about to be remedied. But to return to pleasant Rydal
Mount, still cheerful and peaceful — if it were not for
the newspapers, we should know nothing of the tur-
bulence of our great towns and cities ; yet my poor
brother is often heart-sick and almost desponding — and
no wonder ; for, until this point at which we are arrived,
he has been a true prophet as to the course of events,
dating from the " Greaf Days of July " and the appear-
ance of " the Bill, the whole Bill, and nothing but the
Bill." It remains now for us to hope that Parliament
may meet in a different temper from that in which they

Ch. XVIII.
1831.

Reform

enthusiasm

madness.

524

Samuel Rogers.

Ch. XVIII.
1831.

Words-

ivorth s

Highland

tour.

Rogers on
Gibson and
Chantrey.

parted, and that the late dreadful events may make
each man seek only to promote the peace and prosperity
of the country. You will say that my brother looks
older. He is certainly thinner, and has lost some of
his teeth ; but his bodily activity is not at all diminished,
and if it were not for public affairs, his spirits would be
as cheerful as ever. He and Dora visited Sir Walter
Scott just before his departure, and made a little tour
in the Western Highlands ; and such was his leaning to
old pedestrian habits, that he often walked from fifteen
to twenty miles in a day, following or keeping by the
side of the little carriage, of which his daughter was the
charioteer. They both very much enjoyed the tour,
and my brother actually brought home a set of poems,
the product of that journey.

December ^th. — My morning was broken in upon, when
reading Italian, by calls from Jacob Pattisson, Shutt,
and Mr. Rogers ; the last stayed long. Rogers spoke
of two artists whom he knew in great poverty — Gibson,
now in Rome, a rich man and sculptor of fame, my
acquaintance there, and Chantrey, still richer, and of
higher fame in the same art. Chantrey, not long since,
being at Rogers', said, pointing to a side-board, "You
probably do not recollect that being brought to you by
the cabinet-maker's man ? " — " Certainly not." — " It was
I who brought it, and it is in a great measure my
work."

Rem?'' — Rogers is noted for his generosity towards
poor artists. I have often heard him relate anecdotes

* Written in 1852.

Paganini.

525

which ought not to be forgotten, and will not. They
will be told more elaborately, as well as more correctly,
than I can pretend to relate them. One only I set down
here briefly. I heard it first, a few years since, and
several times afterwards. One night he found at his
door Sir Thomas Lawrence, in a state of alarming
agitation, who implored him to save the President of
the Academy from disgrace. Unless a few thousands
could be raised in twenty-four hours, he could not
be saved ; he had good security to offer ; drawings
he would give in pledge, or sell, as might be required.
Rogers next day went to Lord Dudley Ward, who
advanced the money, and was no loser by the trans-
action.

December ytk. — (Brighton.) Accompanied Masquerier
to a concert, which afforded me really a great pleasure.
I heard Paganini. Having scarcely any sensibility to
music, I could not expect great enjoyment from any
music, however fine ; and, after all, I felt more surprise
at the performance than enjoyment. The professional
men, I understand, universally think more highly
of Paganini than the public do. He is really an
object of wonder. His appearance announces some-
thing extraordinary. His figure and face amount to
caricature. He is a tall slim figure, with limbs which
remind one of a spider ; his face very thin, his forehead
broad, his eyes grey and piercing, with bushy eyebrows ;
his nose thin and long, his cheeks hollow, and his chin
sharp and narrow. His face forms a sort of triangle.
His hands the oddest imaginable, fingers of enormous
length, and thumbs bending backwards. It is, perhaps,

Ch. XVIII.
183T.

The Royal

Academy in

pecuniary

trouble.

Paganini,

526

Portraits by Sir Joshua,

Ch. xviii.
1831.

H. C. R.'s

unmusical

ear.

in a great measure from the length of finger and thumb
that his fiddle is also a sort of lute * He came forward
and played, from notes, his own compositions. Of the
music, as such, I know nothing. The sounds were won-
derful. He produced high notes very faint, which
resembled the chirruping of birds, and then in an
instant, with a startling change, rich and melodious
notes, approaching those of the bass viol. It was diffi-
cult to believe that this great variety of sounds pro-
ceeded from one instrument. The effect was heightened
by his extravagant gesticulation and whimsical attitudes.
He sometimes played with his fingers, as on a harp, and
sometimes struck the cords with his bow, as if it were a
drum-stick, sometimes sticking his elbow into his chest,
and sometimes flourishing his bow. Oftentimes the
sounds were sharp, like those of musical glasses, and
only now and then really delicious to my vulgar ear,
which is gratified merely by the flute and other melo-
dious instruments, and has little sense of harmony.

December I'^th. — ^Accompanied the Masqueriers to a
Mr. Rooper's, in Brunswick Square. We went to
look at some paintings by Sir Joshua Reynolds. One
of Dr. Johnson-f- greatly delighted Masquerier. He

* H. C. R. correctly describes the lute. Many persons either confound
it with the flute, or imagine it to warble in some way, as Pope did. It
is a guitar. Paganini, from the length of his fingers, as H. C. R. justly
explains, could use the bow and strike the strings with the fingers of his bow-
hand at one and the same time ; or, to speak technically, could combine the
colarco and the pizzicato.

\ Dr. Johnson. This portrait was originally painted for Mrs. Thrale, but
rejected by Dr. Johnson because Sir Joshua had given, the Doctor considered,
unnecessary prominence to his defective eye. After some time and much
solicitation, Dr. Johnson allowed Mr. Malone to become the purchaser of it.

Paintings by Sir Joshua.

S27.

thinks it the best he has ever seen of Johnson by Sir
Joshua. The Doctor is holding a book, and reading
like a short-sighted man. His blind eye is in the
shade. There is no gentility, no attempt at setting
off the Doctor's face, but no vulgarity in the portrait.
That of Sir Joshua, by himself, * is a repetition of
the one so frequently seen. He has spectacles as broad
as mine. There is also a full-length of the Lady
Sunderlin,-f* a fine figure and pretty face. She was the
wife of Richard, Lord Sunderlin, elder brother of Ed-
mund Malone. Mr. Rooper showed us some interesting
books, and volunteered to lend me a very curious collec-
tion of MS. letters, all written by eminent persons,
political and literary, all addressed to Mr. Malone, and
a great many on occasion of his Life of Windham.;}:
There is one by Dr. Johnson, a great many by Sir
Joshua Reynolds, Kemble, Lord Charlemont ; and
notes by an infinity of remarkable people. I have

The portrait was exhibited at the National Portrait Gallery, South Kensington,
1867 : No. 556.

* Of Sir Joshua by himself, Malone writes in his diary (Sir James Prior's
Life of Malone, p. 435), "I hope my children, if I should have any, will care-
fully preserve that memorial of his friendship, which he has bequeathed me."

Mr. Malone died unmarried A.D. 1812, leaving his pictures and papers to his
brother, Lord Sunderlin, who died childless in 1816. Eventually his widow,
Philippa Dorothea, daughter of Godolphin Rooper, Esq., of Berkhampsted
Castle, Herts, became possessed of them, and bequeathed them to her youngest
nephew, the Rev. T. R. Rooper, for many years resident at Wick Hall,
Brighton. They are now in possession of his son, the Rev. W. H Rooper, of
Ouseley Lodge, Old Windsor.

t Lady Sunderlin (No. 623 National Portrait Gallery, South Kensington,
1867). A picture of rare merit. Description in Catalogue — " Full length,
standing in a wood. White dress. Painted in 1788."

J "A Biographical Memoir of the Life of the Right Honourable William
Windham." Ixjndon, 1810, 8vo.

Ch. xviii.
1831.

Sir

Joshua's

portrait of

Dr.

Johnson.

S2i

Hazlitt mtd Boswell compared.

Ch. xviii.
1831.

Epigram on
Dr. Parr.

Copley
Fielding.

Hazliifs
Conversa-
tions of
Nortlicote.

yet merely run over one half the collection. It inte-
rested me greatly.

December 14th. — I was employed in the forenoon
looking over Mr. Rooper's MS. letters belonging to
Malone : some by Lord Charlemont curious. Some
anonymous verses against Dr. Parr were poignant. The
concluding lines are not bad as an epigram, though very
unjust. They might be entitled —

A RECIPE.
, To half of Busby's skill in mood and tense,
Add Bentley's pedantry without his sense;
Of Warburton take all the spleen you find,
And leave his genius and his wit behind ;
Squeeze Churchill's rancour from the verse it flows in.
And knead it stiff with Johnson's heavy prosing ;
Add all the piety of Saint Voltaire,
Mix the gross compound — Fiat Dr. Parr.

Spent the evening pleasantly at Copley Fielding's,
the water-colour painter, a man of interesting person
and very prepossessing manners. He showed me some
delightful drawings.

December i6th. — To-day I finish'ed Hazlitt's "Con-
versations of Northcote." I do not believe that Boswell
gives so much good talk in an equal quantity of any
part of his " Life of Johnson." There is much more
shrewdness and originality in both Northcote and Haz-
litt himself than in Johnson ; yet all the elderly people
— my friend Amyot, for instance — would think this an
outrageous proof of bad ta.ste on my part. I do believe
that I am younger in my tastes than most men. I can
relish novelty, and am not yet a laudator temporis acti.

December 20th. — Went to the play, to which I had not
been for a long time. It gives me pain to observe how

Jeremy Bentham.

my relish for the theatre has gone off. It is one of the
strongest indications of advanced age.

Rem* — It was not altogether, however, the fault of
my middle age. I believe that, even now, could Mrs.
Siddons or Mrs. Jordan revive, my enjoyment would
revive too. Power, however, gave me more pleasure
than Johnstone ever gave me, though Johnstone was
thought perfect in Irish characters.

December 26th. — I found my way to Fonblanque's,
beyond Tyburn Turnpike, and dined with him, self-
invited. No one but his wife there, and the visit was
perfectly agreeable. Indeed he is an excellent man.
I believe him to be not a mere grumbler from ill-
humour and poverty, as poor Hazlitt was to a great
degree, but really an upright man, with an honest dis-
gust at iniquity, and taking delight in giving vent to
his indignation at wrong. His critical opinions startle
me. He is going to introduce me to Jeremy Bentham,
which will be a great pleasure.

December ^ist. — At half-past one went by appoint-
ment to see Jeremy Bentham, at his house in Queen
Square, Westminster, and walked with him for about
half an hour in his garden, when he dismissed me to
take his breakfast and have the paper read to him. I
have but little to report concerning him. His person is
not what I expected. He is a small man.-|- He stoops

* Written in 1852.

f I should have said otherwise from the impression he left on me, as well as
from the effect produced by his skeleton, dressed in his real clothes, and with
a waxen face, preserved by his own desire. — H C. R., 1852. [It is now located
at University College, London.]

VOL. IL M M

S30

Jeremy Bentham.

Ch. XVIII.

I83I.

very much (he is eighty-four), and shuffles in his gait.
His hearing is not good, yet excellent considering his
age. His eye is restless, and there is a fidgety activity
about him, increased probably by the habit of having
all round fly at his command. He began by referring
to my late journey in Italy, and, by putting questions
to me, made me of necessity the talker. He seems not
to have made Italian matters at all his study, and, I
suspect, considers other countries only with reference to
the influence his books and opinions may have had and
have there. He mentioned Filangieri as a contemp-
tible writer, who wrote after himself; and said he
had the mortification of finding him praised, while he
himself was overlooked. I gave him my opinion as to
the political character of the French Ministry, and their
purely selfish policy towards Italy, which he did not
seem to comprehend. He inquired about my profes- .
sional life ; and spoke of the late Dr. Wilson (whom I
recollect seeing when I was a boy) as the first of his
disciples.

Woodfall and Kinder, Printers, Milford Lane, Strand, London, W. C.

DATE DUE

nA AV

1 inpR

MAi

J ItJOO

,flJt)T

7 1987

iiffh

PR 1 8 B.

GAYLORD

PRINTEO IN U S A

3 1970 00584 9556

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