THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 IRVINE 
 
 GIFT OF 
 MR. J. L. PETERSON
 
 / 
 
 Engraved ty TTT'HolZ/,^?,'//; ,
 
 DIARY, REMINISCENCES, AND 
 CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 OF 
 
 HENRY CRABB ROBINSON, 
 
 i - 
 BARRISTER-AT-LAW, F.S.A. 
 
 SELECTED AND EDITED 
 
 THOMAS SADLER, PH.D. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. 
 
 lonbon : 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 1869. 
 
 [All Kights Reserved.]
 
 PR 
 
 S3 
 
 n 
 
 1 A Man he seems of cheerful yesterdays 
 And confident to-morrows ; with a face 
 Not worldly-minded, for it bears too much 
 Of Nature's impress, gaiety and health, 
 Freedom and hope ; but keen withal, and shrewd. 
 His gestures note, and hark ! his tones of voice 
 Are all vivacious as his mien and looks." 
 
 The Excursion, Book VII.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE materials placed in the hands of the Editor, from 
 which to make selections for the following work, were : 
 i. Brief journals reaching as far as 1810, inclusive; 
 2. A regular and full home Diary, begun in. 1811, and 
 continued till within five days of Mr. Robinson's death, 
 forming thirty-five closely-written volumes ; 3. About 
 thirty volumes of Journals of tours ; 4. Reminiscences, 
 reaching down to the year 1843, inclusive; 5. Mis- 
 cellaneous papers ; 6. A large number of letters. It 
 was Mr. Robinson's intention to very materially re- 
 duce the number of letters, and to leave only those 
 which were valuable. This sifting he regarded as a 
 chief work of his later years, and he was fond of 
 quoting respecting it the saying of Dr. Aikin when 
 struck by paralysis : " I must make the most of the 
 salvage of life." But although he destroyed a vast 
 number of letters, the work of selection and arrange- 
 ment was very far from completed. 
 
 The part of his papers of which he himself contem- 
 plated the posthumous publication, was a selection from 
 his Reminiscences, with some letters. Many friends 
 repeatedly urged him to make the necessary prepara- 
 tion for such a publication. Among these were 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 Rogers and Wordsworth. On the recommendation of 
 the latter, Mr. Robinson laid special stress, for he said, 
 "Wordsworth must be aware that there are many 
 interesting particulars respecting himself, which I 
 should wish to preserve, if I preserved anything." And 
 the recommendation was, therefore, interpreted as a 
 sanction to including these particulars with those re- 
 lating to Goethe, Wieland, and others. To his ex- 
 ecutors, Mr. Robinson used to say, " If you were to print 
 all that you find," (referring to the Reminiscences) " I 
 should think you would show great want of judgment ; 
 and I should think the same if you came to the con- 
 clusion that there is nothing worth printing." About 
 six weeks before his death, he met Mr. Macmillan, the 
 publisher of these volumes, who, as they were going 
 down to lunch, gave him his arm, and on the stairs said, 
 " Mr. Robinson, I wonder that you have never been 
 induced to undertake some great literary work." Mr. 
 Robinson stopped, and placing his hand on Mr. Mac- 
 millan's shoulder, answered, " It is because I am a wise 
 man. I early found that I had not the literary ability 
 to give me such a place among English authors as I 
 should have desired ; but I thought that I had an 
 opportunity of gaining a knowledge of many of the 
 most distinguished men of the age, and that I might do 
 some good by keeping a record of my interviews with 
 them." And writing to his brother in 1842, he said, 
 " When you complain of my not being so copious as I 
 ought on such occasions, you only remind me of what 
 I am already sufficiently aware, and that I want in an 
 eminent degree the Boswell faculty. With his excellent
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 memory and tact, had I early in life set about following 
 his example, I might, beyond all doubt, have supplied a 
 few volumes superior in value to his ' Johnson,' though 
 they would not have been so popular. Certainly the 
 names recorded in his great work are not so important 
 as Goethe, Schiller, Herder, Wieland, the Duchesses 
 Amelia and Louisa of Weimar, and Tieck as Madame 
 de Stael, La Fayette, Abbe Gregoire, Benjamin Con- 
 stant as Wordsworth, Southey, Coleridge, Lamb, 
 Rogers, Hazlitt, Mrs. Barbauld, Clarkson, &c. &c. &c., 
 for I could add a great number of minor stars. And 
 yet what has come of all this ? Nothing. What will 
 come of it ? Perhaps nothing." 
 
 From the year 1811 the Diary is entitled to the most 
 prominent place. The Reminiscences were not begun 
 till Mr. Robinson had nearly reached three score years 
 and ten ; and even if they had been written in the 
 freshness of his memory, and in the fulness of his 
 mental vigour, they would still hardly have had equal 
 value with the daily record, which breathes the air of 
 the scenes and incidents to which it relates. 
 
 In the execution of his task, the Editor has kept two 
 objects especially in view ; first, to preserve interesting 
 particulars respecting distinguished men, both in 
 England and on the Continent ; and, secondly, to keep 
 unbroken the thread of Mr. Robinson's own life. One 
 reason why the materials were put into his hands rather 
 than those of one possessing more literary experience 
 was, that he had been himself a student at German 
 Universities, and was interested in German literature ; 
 but the chief reason was that, from various circum- 
 
 c 2
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 stances, he was likely to give due prominence to Mr. 
 Robinson's own modes of thinking and mental charac- 
 teristics, his independent unconforming ways, without 
 which those who knew him best would feel that they had 
 not a faithful portrait of their friend. If this were not 
 secured, the executors would consider that they were 
 not carrying out his own aim, in leaving the selection of 
 editor to them, without guidance or restraint. The 
 Editor has, therefore, felt it to be his duty to take all 
 the care he could that the unpopular, or commonly 
 uninteresting, subjects of Mr. Robinson's thought and 
 interest should not be suppressed, in order to make the 
 book more in accordance with the public taste. 
 
 The Editor cannot venture to hope that, in the first 
 edition of the work, there will not be many mistakes. 
 Mr. Robinson often excited surprise by his wonderful 
 memory in the narration of personal incidents ; but in 
 regard to dates and names, it was not altogether without 
 grounds that he called himself an incorrigible blunderer. 
 
 Of the mass of MS. which remains after selection, 
 it will be enough to say, that it, for the most part, 
 refers simply to the ordinary matters of private life, but 
 that there are some parts which, though they could not, 
 with propriety, be published now, may in time have a 
 public interest and value.* It may, perhaps, not be out 
 of place to give very briefly some of the most marked 
 impressions of Mr. Robinson, which have been left on 
 the Editor's mind, after reading the whole. 
 
 * Mr. Robinson's papers will be carefully preserved with a view to any histo- 
 rical value they may acquire by the lapse of time. It may be stated, as a rough 
 guess, that the selections, not taking into account the letters, do not amount to 
 more than a twenty-fifth or thirtieth part of the whole.
 
 PREFACE. ix 
 
 In Holcroft's "Hugh Trevor "there is a passage in 
 which Mr. Robinson was greatly interested, because he 
 felt it to be singularly applicable to himself : " I was 
 possessed of that hilarity which, when not regulated by 
 a strong desire to obtain some particular purpose, shows 
 itself in a thousand extravagant forms, and is then called 
 animal spirits ; but when once turned to an attainment 
 of some great end, assumes the more worthy appellation 
 of activity of mind." Of this passage Mr. Robinson says, 
 " I have through life had animal spirits in a high degree. 
 I might, under certain circumstances, have had more." 
 When he was in his seventieth year, Mrs. Clarkson said 
 of him, that he was " as much a boy as ever." Words- 
 worth called him "a healthy creature, who talked of 
 coming again in seven years as others would of seven 
 days." And the first line of the Dedication to H. C. R. 
 of the " Memorials of the Italian Tour " is : 
 
 " Companion ! By whose buoyant spirit cheered." 
 
 This was, doubtless, in some measure owing to a 
 healthful and vigorous constitution. Very rarely does 
 so long a life pass with so little interruption from 
 illness. Even so late as 1831, when he was in Italy, he 
 made an excursion with three gentlemen, one of whom, 
 before their return, volunteered this confession : " When 
 I heard that you were to be of the party I, at first, 
 refused to go ; ' for,' I said, ' Mr. Robinson is an old 
 man, and the rest of us shall have to accommodate 
 ourselves to his infirmities ; ' but you have already 
 knocked up two of us, and all but me also." 
 
 Mr. Robinson was a voracious devourer of books. 
 He read before he got up, and after he went to bed.
 
 X PREFACE. 
 
 On his journeys, whether on foot or on a stage-coach, 
 he was in the habit of spending much of his time in 
 reading. The most attractive scenery had to share his 
 attention with a book. He said, " I could have no 
 pleasure at the sea-side without society. That is the 
 one great want of my life, or rather the second, the 
 first being books." In a Christmas visit to Rydal, for a 
 month or five weeks, he would read from ten to twenty 
 volumes of such works as those of Arnold, Whately, 
 and Isaac Taylor. Nor was he one of those who think 
 they have read a work when they have only skimmed 
 through it, and made themselves acquainted with its 
 general contents. Sometimes he gives, in the Diary, 
 an account of what he read, and there is a large bundle 
 of separate papers, containing abstracts of books, plots 
 of stories, and critical remarks. 
 
 In his case, however, there was no danger of be- 
 coming so absorbed in literature as to lose his interest 
 in men. He was eminently social. But he liked to 
 have to do with persons who had some individuality. 
 It was an affliction to him to be obliged to spend 
 several hours with one of those colourless beings, who 
 have no opinions, tastes, or principles of their own. 
 Writing from Germany to his brother, he said, " I love 
 characters extremely." The words, " He is a character," 
 are frequently the prelude to an interesting personal 
 description. Of one whom he knew, he says, " All his 
 conversation is ostentatious egotism ; and yet it is 
 preferable to the dry talk about the weather, which 
 some men torment me with. The revelations of 
 character are always interesting." This interest in
 
 PREFACE. xi 
 
 characters seems to have given him an intuitive power 
 of finding out noticeable men. Wherever he was in 
 London, Germany, or Rome a secret affinity was 
 almost sure to bring him into contact with those who 
 were most worth knowing, and to lead to a lasting 
 acquaintance with them. When compelled, by Napo- 
 leon's soldiers, to fly from Hamburg, and to take 
 refuge in Stockholm, he formed a friendship with the 
 veteran Arndt, and there was no diminution in the 
 warmth of their greeting after an interval of twenty- 
 seven years. 
 
 Mr. Robinson's name is widely known as that of a 
 capital talker. There is a saying that a man's strength 
 is also his weakness, and in this case there are not 
 wanting jokes about his taking all the conversation 
 to himself. It is reported that one day at a break- 
 fast party at Sam Rogers's, the host said to those 
 assembled, " Oh, if there is any one here who wishes 
 to say anything, he had better say it at once, for 
 Crabb Robinson is coming." But there is no subject 
 on which he more frequently reproaches himself, than 
 with this habit of taking too large a share of the talk. 
 When his strength was beginning to fail, his friend 
 Edwin Field urged him in a letter to refrain from 
 talking "more than two hours consecutively." He 
 notes this in the Diary, and adds, " Is this satire ? It 
 does not offend me." Yet he was too candid not 
 to acknowledge that conversation was the one thing 
 in which, in his own estimation, he excelled. It was, 
 he said, his power of expression which enabled him to 
 make his way as a barrister, notwithstanding his de-
 
 xii PREFACE. 
 
 ficiencies in legal attainment.* He not only had a 
 copious vocabulary, but could also convey much mean- 
 ing by his manner, and by a playful exaggeration in his 
 words. 
 
 Of this last use of speech he says in a letter to his 
 brother : " What I wrote about the parson's alleging 
 that he had never seen me at church, was not altogether 
 a joke, but was a real feeling, exaggerated into a joke, 
 which is very much my habit in company, and, I may 
 say, is one of the secrets of conversational tact. There 
 is not a better way of insinuating a wholesome but 
 unpalatable truth, than clothing it in language wilfully 
 beyond truth, so that it may be taken as a satire on 
 those who gravely maintain the same doctrine, by all 
 who perhaps would not tolerate a sober and dry state- 
 ment of it. I have the vanity to think I know how to 
 do this, but I may sometimes fail, of course. The in- 
 telligent always understand me, and the dull are 
 puzzled." It is not too much to say, that to the great 
 majority of those who were in the habit of meeting him 
 his conversation was a real delight. The Editor well 
 remembers the secret pleasure with which he invariably 
 saw him come into the room, and the feeling which the 
 announcement of his death caused, as of a loss which, 
 in kind, could never be made up. There were veins in 
 his conversation, from which more good was to be 
 gained in a pleasant hour after dinner, than from many 
 a lengthened serious discourse. 
 
 Throughout life Mr. Robinson was a man of unusual 
 
 * Whatever amount of truth there may be in Mr. Robinson's own idea of 
 his legal attainments, he, at all events, as the Diary shows, was a great reader 
 of legal books, while he was in practice at the Bar.
 
 PREFACE. xiii 
 
 activity. He himself would hardly have admitted this. 
 A title that suggested itself to him for his Reminis- 
 cences was, " Retrospect of an Idle Life." When on one 
 occasion he was told by his medical attendant that he 
 had been using his brain too much, he exclaimed, 
 " That is absurd." He would say of himself, that while 
 he talked too much he did nothing. But in truth men 
 " who have nothing to do," are very serviceable members 
 of society, if they only know how to employ their 
 time. 
 
 Those who knew him best, protested against the self- 
 reproaches he heaped upon himself for not being of 
 more use. Miss Denman says in a letter : " I must 
 scold you in good earnest. What can you mean by 
 complaining of being useless in the world, when you 
 must be conscious that every human being you ever 
 called friend, has found you one in any and every 
 emergency where your kindness and services could be 
 made available ? Do we not all feel and acknowledge 
 this, and are you the only forgetful person ? I '11 tell 
 you what you should do. When the uncomfortable 
 discouraging idea is taking hold of your mind, call over 
 the names of the persons you have been most intimate 
 with, and ask yourself before you dismiss each name, 
 Have I never done a service, given useful advice or 
 pecuniary aid, to this person ? Try this, and I think 
 your mind will be relieved from the fancied evil." He 
 was, as he himself expressed it, " A busy idle man." 
 
 In the early part of his life, simple habits and a very 
 limited expenditure were necessary to " make both ends 
 meet." But when his means became considerable he
 
 xiv PREFACE. 
 
 had no desire to alter, materially, his mode of living. 
 He did not covet the kind of rank and station which 
 are attained by a costly establishment and a luxurious 
 table. He had not a single expensive habit ; but he 
 said, " My parsimony does not extend to others." He 
 would rather help some widow to bring up her children, 
 or some promising young man to obtain superior 
 educational advantages. But he had his own method 
 of giving. It was rather in the spirit of generosity, than 
 of charity, in the narrower sense of that word. He 
 had his pensioners among the poor, but he had a 
 wholesome fear of encouraging a spirit of dependence, 
 and was conscientiously on his guard against that kind 
 of liberality which is easily taken in. There were 
 friends to whom he used to say, " If you know of any 
 case in which money will do good, come to me !"* And 
 he did not like to be much thanked ; he felt humiliated 
 by it, when he had simply followed the natural dictates 
 of kindness and goodwill. He was especially fond of 
 promoting the enjoyment of the young. " In the 
 happiness of the young," he said, in a letter to his 
 brother, "we, the aged, if we are not grossly selfish, 
 shall be able to take pleasure." If it were rumoured 
 that the students of University Hall wanted the relief 
 of a dance, towards the close of a session of hard 
 study, they would presently hear that an anonymous 
 friend had presented ^"50 for the purpose. He took 
 great pains with his gifts. He would often get some 
 friend to choose a wedding present, and the value was 
 
 * Mr. Robinson often said to E. W. Field, "You cannot think what a 
 trouble it is to me to spend a shilling on myself; but if you know of any good 
 way of using my money, come to me."
 
 PREFACE. XV 
 
 " not to be less than a sum named " always a hand- 
 some amount. With a book-gift, he would sometimes 
 send a long and valuable letter about the best way to 
 read it. In Rome, on the birthday of Pepina, Miss 
 Mackenzie's adopted child, he put into her hands a 
 present of money, with a kind letter of advice, which 
 he hoped would be valuable to her in after life. There 
 was often peculiar delicacy in his acts of generosity. 
 In one of his tours, he found his old friend Charlotte 
 Serviere somewhat narrowed in her circumstances, and, 
 calling at Frankfort on his way back, he begged her to 
 do him the favour of relieving him of a part of the too 
 large balance which his tour had left in his hands, and 
 to excuse a pecuniary gift from an old friend. He 
 would not let her express the gratitude she felt ; but 
 on leaving the house, on a subsequent visit, he could 
 not prevent the old servant from seizing him by the 
 hand, and saying, " I thank you for the great joy you 
 have given to the Fraulein." Some who are now thriving 
 in fortune, and holding a prominent place in the literary 
 world, will remember the little "sealed notes," con- 
 taining a valuable enclosure, for which he would fain 
 have it believed that a volume or two of the author's 
 works, or a ticket to a course of lectures, was ample 
 return. Nor was his generosity by any means confined 
 to pecuniary gifts, and personal exertions. 
 
 Not a few of his best anecdotes have got, prematurely, 
 into print. This was inevitable with a good talker. And 
 he would not have avoided it, if he could, by putting a 
 restraint on the sociability of his nature, though he did 
 like to have his anecdotes told as they ought to be. Not
 
 xvi PREFACE. 
 
 only, however, did some of his best anecdotes get abroad, 
 if sometimes in an imperfect form, but he seems to have 
 had no disposition to keep back other matter, though 
 strictly under his own control. When he heard that 
 Moore was preparing a " Life of Byron," he wrote a 
 letter, which, it appears, never reached its destination, 
 giving a full account of those highly interesting in- 
 terviews, in which Goethe's opinions of Byron were 
 expressed. Mrs. Austin, in her " Characteristics of 
 Goethe," and Mr. Gilchrist, in his " Memoirs of Blake," 
 not to mention others, received valuable contributions 
 frorri Mr. Robinson ; and this, notwithstanding that 
 recollections of his own would, in all probability, be 
 some day published. 
 
 His love for the young showed itself, not only in his 
 thoughtfulness for their pleasure, but also in the allow- 
 ance he made for their faults.* Jean Paul says, that 
 in the young man the wing feathers (the impulsive 
 energies) are chiefly developed, and that the tail 
 feathers (the balancing power, or judgment) are the 
 growth of later years. Accordingly, Mr. Robinson, 
 though himself of the widest toleration, thought " in- 
 tolerance not inexcusable in a young man. Tolerance 
 comes with age." His own large experience of diversity 
 of opinion, taste, and feeling, combined with excellence 
 of character, had made him thoroughly catholic in 
 spirit ; and, with his tendency to self-depreciation, he 
 was (to borrow Dr. King's expression) " too modest to 
 
 * Not indeed for the faults of the young only. "Dr. E. spoke with spirit 
 about T. I defended poor T. as well as I could, with more love than logic. 
 He is indefensible. Amyot cheered me on, who loves all his old friends ; he 
 gives up none." H. C. R., October 22, 1832.
 
 PREFACE. XV11 
 
 be tolerant." But there were two classes of persons 
 who formed exceptions. One consisted of those who 
 spoke disrespectfully of his demigods ; the other class 
 is indicated by his own words : " I cannot tolerate the 
 toleration of slavery." Of these two forms of intol- 
 erance, the first, which cost him some friendships, he 
 acknowledged as a fault, and, on various occasions, 
 expressed his deep regret at it, as arising from a want 
 of control over his temper ; the second he felt to be a 
 virtue. To one who was satirical on the subject of 
 slavery, he said, " Lord John is fair game, and the 
 Times, and the Whigs, too, if by Whigs you mean the 
 great Whig families ; but humanity is too sacred a 
 subject for irony." 
 
 Mr. Robinson used to lament that he had not the 
 faculty of giving a graphic account of the illustrious 
 men with whom he came into contact. He had, at all 
 events, one qualification for interesting others he was 
 interested himself. The masters of style have no arts 
 which can take the place of a writer's own enthusiasm 
 in his subject. Mr. Robinson's descriptions are often 
 all the more effective from their very naturalness and 
 simplicity. The Italian tour, with Wordsworth, may 
 be cited as an example. What was written on the 
 journeys is, on the whole, hardly equal to the ordinary 
 home Diary. Nor is that tour one of the best, so far 
 as the record is concerned. And yet the few notes, 
 jotted down day by day, are admirably illustrative of 
 Wordsworth's mind and character, and are strikingly 
 confirmed by the " Memorials " written by him after- 
 wards. The poet's love for natural beauties rather than
 
 xviii PREFACE. 
 
 works of art, for the country rather than the towns, for 
 fresh life in bird, or flower, or little child, rather than 
 for the relics of the things of old his annoyance at 
 the long streets of Bologna his eagerness to depart 
 from the fashionable watering-place of Ischl the wide 
 difference in his interest in those places which have 
 influenced the character and works of a great man, and 
 those which have only been outwardly associated with 
 him his being allured by the sound of a stream, and 
 led on and on till midday, notwithstanding that he was 
 expected back to breakfast, and the relief his anxious 
 friend felt as soon as he heard the same sound, knowing 
 that it would be likely to be irresistible to the truant, 
 and tracking him out by this clue : these and kindred 
 touches of character have in them the material and 
 colouring of genuine biography. 
 
 The time spent by Mr. Robinson in Germany, as a 
 young man, was a turning-point in his life. And he 
 did not derive the advantage of between four and five 
 years' study there, in the best society, without leaving a 
 very favourable impression on many, whose esteem and 
 friendship were, in the highest degree, honourable to 
 him, as well as a rich possession. He must have been 
 a tolerable German scholar to have been able to 
 personate Professor Fichte to the lionizing landlord and 
 the confidential priest. What warm greetings he in- 
 variably received at Jena and Weimar, Frankfort and 
 Heidelberg ! So thoroughly had he entered into the 
 thoughts and customs of his German friends, that they 
 felt themselves to be understood by him, and fully 
 trusted him to represent them on his return to his
 
 PREFACE. xix 
 
 native country. And certainly, if he were a " mis- 
 sionary of English poetry in Germany," he was also 
 a missionary of German literature in England. This 
 is amply acknowledged in the " Memoirs of Frederick 
 Perthes."* Besser, the partner of Perthes, writing from 
 England in 1814, says : " Such men as Robinson are of 
 rare occurrence in England. A better medium than 
 this remarkable and most attractive man it would be 
 impossible for Germany to find. I unconsciously place 
 him, in my mind, by the side of Villers, and then the 
 different influence which a thorough German education 
 has had on the Frenchman and on the Englishman is 
 very striking." 
 
 Mr. Robinson's breakfast and dinner-parties were 
 characteristically interesting. He did not seek to 
 gather about him either the lions or the wits of the 
 day. There were witty men and eminent men at his 
 table, but not as stick were they invited. None were 
 allowed to come there who showed themselves to be 
 either intolerant or subservient. He liked to gather 
 around him cultivated and earnest representatives of 
 various phases of political and religious thought. " His 
 house" (Mr. Tayler said in his address at Highgate) 
 "was a centre of attraction for minds from the most 
 opposite points in the wide horizon of opinion. 
 Softened by his genial spirit, and animated by his 
 cheerful flow of kindly and interesting talk, Tories and 
 Liberals, High-Churchmen and Dissenters, found them- 
 selves side by side at his hospitable board, without 
 suspecting that they were enemies, and learned there, 
 
 * Vol. I., ch. xix., p. 258.
 
 XX PREFACE. 
 
 if they had never learned it before, how much deeper 
 and stronger is the common human heart, which binds 
 us all in one, than those intellectual differences which 
 are the witness of our weakness and infallibility, and 
 sometimes the expression of our obstinacy and self- 
 will." It was, indeed, no small privilege to hear the 
 passing topics of the day, and the chief questions of 
 literature, talked over by able men of such widely 
 differing points of view, and in a spirit of mutual 
 respect and kindness. And the host, who was as free 
 in the expression of his own opinions as he was ready 
 to listen to the opinions of others, seldom failed to 
 bring to bear on the question under consideration some 
 recollection from Weimar or Highgate, a walk with 
 Wordsworth at Rydal, or an evening with Charles 
 Lamb. 
 
 To those who were not intimate with Mr. Robinson, 
 what he says respecting religion may sometimes be 
 puzzling. There are occasions when his words seem to 
 imply that with him belief was rather hoped for than 
 an actual possession. He thought there was more real 
 piety in the exclamation of the anxious father in the 
 Gospels, " Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief," 
 than in the confident and self-satisfied assertion of the 
 longest creed. His sympathy in opinions was with 
 those who have exercised the fullest liberty of thought. 
 He had traversed far and wide the realms of theological 
 speculation, and in every part he had found sincere and 
 devout men. But he was always interested and touched 
 by genuine religious feeling, wherever he found it 
 whether in the simple and fervent faith of the Moravians
 
 PREFACE. XXI 
 
 at Ebersdorf, or in the blessings which the old Catholic 
 woman at Bischoffsheim * poured upon Christian Bren- 
 tano, or in the vesper service at the wayside inn in the 
 Tyrol, or in the family worship at Ambleside, where 
 "sweet Jessie" Harden "read the prayers." He 
 thoroughly entered into the sentiment of the author of 
 the " Religio Medici," " I cannot laugh at, but rather 
 pity, the fruitless journeys of pilgrims, or condemn the 
 miserable condition of friars ; for though misplaced in 
 circumstances, there is something in it of devotion. I 
 could never hear the Ave Mary bell without an eleva- 
 tion, or think it a sufficient warrant, because they erred 
 in one circumstance, for me to err in all that is, in 
 silence and contempt. Whilst, therefore, they directed 
 their devotions to her, I offered mine to God, and recti- 
 fied the errors of their prayers by rightly ordering mine 
 own." Looking to the church of the future, he hoped 
 there would be found in it " the greatest quantity of 
 religion founded on devotional sentiment, and the least 
 quantity of church government compatible with it, and 
 consistent with order." The concluding paragraph of 
 his obituary of his friend Anthony Robinson, written in 
 1827, is strikingly applicable to himself: "Could Mr. 
 Robinson be justly deemed a religious man ? If 
 religion be a system of confident conclusions on all 
 the great points of metaphysical speculation, as they 
 respect the universe and its author man and his 
 position in the one, and relation to the other it 
 must be owned Mr. Robinson laid no claim to the 
 character. But if the religious principle be that which 
 
 * Where Christian Brentano had been at school. 
 VOL. I. d
 
 XXll PREFACE. 
 
 lays the foundations of all truth deeper than the ex- 
 ternal and visible world ; if religious feeling lie in 
 humble submission to the unknown Infinite Being, who 
 produced all things, and in a deep sense of the duty of 
 striving to act and live in conformity with the will of 
 that Being ; if, further, Christianity consist in acknow- 
 ledging the Christian Scriptures as the exposition of 
 the Divine will, and the guide of human conduct then, 
 surely, he may boldly claim to be a member of that 
 true Christian Catholic church, according to his own 
 definition of it 'An association of men for the cul- 
 tivation of knowledge, the practice of piety, and the 
 promotion of virtue.' " * 
 
 Mr. Robinson was an earnest thinker on the pro- 
 foundest and most difficult religious subjects. This was 
 especially the case in his old age. As we like to look 
 up to the stars, though we may not be able to tell their 
 magnitude or their distance, and to behold the majesty 
 of the sea, though we may not be able to fathom its 
 depths, so he seemed to be attracted to the great 
 problems of religion, as if he liked to feel their infini- 
 tude, rather than hoped to find their solution. He 
 stated as his experience, that " Religion in age supplies 
 the animal spirits of youth." His old age had its pa- 
 thetic side, as, indeed, every old age must have. 
 
 Those who, in his later years, met him in society, and 
 saw how full of life he was, with what zest and anima- 
 tion he told his old stories, merely requiring, now and 
 then, help as to a name or a date, may easily have 
 imagined his strength greater than it really was. 
 
 * Monthly Repository, 1827, p. 293.
 
 PREFACE. Xxiii 
 
 But, though few, perhaps, have ever so closely 
 watched the approach of infirmity, and though he was 
 in the habit of saying, " Growing old is like growing 
 poor, a sort of going down in the world," his frequent 
 expression was, " This does not make me melancholy." 
 And when, at last, " Everything seemed to tire," there 
 was, with this feeling of mortal weariness, another feel- 
 ing, which was that he was 
 
 "On the brink of being bom." 
 
 T. S. 
 
 Hampstead. 
 
 The Editor desires to acknowledge the valuable assist- 
 ance he has received ; and would especially mention 
 James Gairdner, Esq., of the Record Office ; George 
 Scharf, Esq., one of Mr. Robinson's intimate and 
 highly valued friends ; and J. Morley, Esq., author of 
 " Burke : a Historical Study," &c. Mr. Gairdner made 
 the selections in some of the years. The proofs have 
 had the advantage of additional notes, especially in 
 connection with art, by Mr. Scharf, and of excellent 
 suggestions by Mr. Morley. Dr. Wagner has rendered 
 a like service, in regard to those parts which relate to 
 Germany. The admirable paper by Mr. De Morgan, 
 at the end of the third volume, speaks for itself. In 
 acknowledging the kindness of Lady Byron's relatives, 
 in regard to the letters by her, the Editor cannot but 
 add the expression of a hope, that, before long, the 
 public may have the opportunity of a fuller acquaint- 
 ance with the correspondence of one capable of writing 
 such letters.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 1789. 
 Family and Childhood i 
 
 CHAPTER II. 1790-5. 
 Articled Clerk at Colchester 16 
 
 CHAPTER III. 1795. 
 Interval at Bury 28 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 1796-9. 
 Unsettled Life in London Correspondence with Robert Hall ... 34 
 
 CHAPTERS V., VI., VII., VIII., IX. 1800-5. 
 In Germany 69 
 
 CHAPTER X. 1805-6. 
 In London Acquaintance with Mrs. Barbauld, and C. and M. Lamb . 225 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 1807. 
 In Holstein, as " Times Correspondent " 231 
 
 .CHAPTER XII. 1807-9. 
 
 In London, as Foreign Editor of the Times Acquaintance with Words- 
 worth At Corunna, as " Times Correspondent " .... 263 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 1810. 
 In London Acquaintance with Coleridge and Flaxman .... 298 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 1811. 
 
 In London Debating Societies Coleridge's Lectures Southey Reso- 
 lution to Study for the Bar. . . . . . . . .318 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 1812. 
 In London Studies for the Bar Lectures by Coleridge and Hazlitt . 366
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 1813. 
 
 Acquaintance with Talfourd Madame de Stael in London Circuit 
 
 Takes Chambers 406 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 1814. 
 
 European Politics Practice at the Bar Tour in France La Fayette 
 French Courts of Justice Madame de Stael Benjamin Constant 
 Schlegel " The Excursion " 425 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 1815. 
 
 "The Excursion" Buonaparte's Escape from Elba Death of H. C. R.'s 
 Father Tour in Belgium and Holland Visit to Waterloo Progress 
 at the Bar 468
 
 
 'ERRATA. 
 
 Vol. I. p. 34, line 21, for " Maiden " read Maldon. 
 
 /. 106, line 19, for ' ' from gzs. to 13^. " read from gzs. to 30*. 
 / 375. n te, omit ' ' not contained in his published works." C. Lamb's 
 "Triumph of the Whale" is in his "Works," though not among 
 his collected poems. 
 Vol. II. In Table of Contents, " Croker," instead of being at the beginning 
 
 of CHAP. XVI., should be at the end of CHAP. XV. 
 p. 3, line i^for "Bannister" read Banister. 
 /. 7, line 21, for "Buck's " read Bucks. 
 p. 64, line Z,for "Hutchinson" read Hutchison. 
 p. 71, line 13, for ' ' Carlisle " read Carlile. 
 /. 114, line 20, for "presents" read presented. 
 /. 116, line 28, for "Jekyl" read Jekyll. 
 /. 117, line 3, ditto ditto, 
 
 p. 208, line 6, for " Being" read He being. 
 p. 286, line 9, for " Alsop" read Allsop. 
 
 /. 290, note, for " General Gifford" read Captain, now Major Gifford. 
 p. 418, line 27, for " en bon point " read embonpoint. 
 Vol. III. p. 277, line 3, for "Melancthon" read Melanchthon. 

 
 REMINISCENCES 
 
 OF 
 
 HENRY CRABB ROBINSON 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD. 
 
 IT is one of the evidences, or shall I say consequences, 
 of a happy frame of mind, that I am capable of deriv- 
 ing pleasure from things, the absence or even loss of 
 which does not give me pain. I should have rejoiced 
 had I been well born, could I have reckoned historical 
 characters among my ancestors ; but it has never occa- 
 sioned me any serious uneasiness that my family are of 
 as insignificant a class as can be imagined. Among 
 the Robinsons I cannot find a single individual who 
 appears to have acquired any distinction, and among 
 the Crabbs only a remote probability of an affinity to 
 a single individual of the name, who has ever been 
 heard of and that is the Poet. 
 
 My father used to say that his great-grandfather was 
 a tanner at Bildeston in Suffolk, and that his name was 
 Henry. My great-grandfather was Thomas. He was 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 
 Ancestors.
 
 Family. 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 
 Marriage 
 
 f. 
 H.Robinson 
 
 and 
 
 Jemima 
 Crabb. 
 
 a tanner at Sudbury, where he is said to have attained 
 the dignity of Mayor. 
 
 Some circumstances concerning the marriage of my 
 father and mother are worth writing down. I have for- 
 gotten from whom I heard them. My mother Jemima 
 Crabb was the eldest daughter of a large family, 
 and when of an age to be useful she left her father's 
 crowded house to reside at Bury with a family very 
 intimate with her own. Mr. Bullen, the head of this 
 family, being a Dissenter, it was quite a matter of course 
 that Miss Crabb should be known to the Robinsons. 
 My grandfather was reputed wealthy, and was certainly 
 one of the most respectable of the Dissenters. Jemima 
 Crabb could have very little fortune, and my grand- 
 father did not consent to a love-match between her and 
 his second son Henry. She therefore returned to Wat- 
 tisfield. One day her brother Zachariah seeing Henry 
 Robinson in the Market-place, said to him, "Not yet 
 married, Master Henry ? I expected to hear of your 
 marriage before this time." Henry answered, " No, Mr. 
 Zachary, as I cannot have your sister Mimie I won't 
 marry at all." A few days after this, a letter came to 
 him from Miss Crabb, in which she said she was sorry 
 for what she had heard from her brother that it would 
 be sinful in him not to marry, for it is God's ordinance, 
 and he should not refuse to do so because he could 
 not have the first woman he had taken a liking to. It 
 would be undutiful to his father also, who did not ap- 
 prove of his marrying her. She hoped to hear that he 
 had thought better of this, and that he would make a 
 happy marriage in conformity with his father's wishes.
 
 Birth. 
 
 This letter Henry showed to his brother Thomas, who 
 carried it to his father. The old gentleman was so 
 pleased with its tone that he withdrew his objection. 
 Henry immediately went over to Wattisfield with the 
 good news, and the marriage soon followed. It took 
 place in 1766. 
 
 There were born two children, who died in infancy ; 
 and besides these Thomas, born January 25th, 1770, 
 Habakkuk, born June 4th, 1771, and Henry Crabb, 
 the writer of these Reminiscences, born May I3th, 1775. 
 
 When I was about twenty-one years of age I met on 
 a stage-coach a very gentlemanly man, who, hearing my 
 name, asked me whether my father was not a tanner, 
 and whether my mother's name was not Crabb. Sur- 
 prised at the question from a stranger I inquired why he 
 asked. He thus explained himself " More than twenty 
 years ago I attended the Gentlemen's Club at The 
 Angel, when the chairman gave as a toast, ' The Hand- 
 some Couple ; ' I was from the country, and it was then 
 related to me that that morning there had been mar- 
 ried a couple said to be the handsomest pair ever known 
 to have lived at Bury. I recollect that the names were 
 Robinson and Crabb, and that he was a young tanner." 
 
 In general, it is not easy to fix a date to the earliest 
 recollections. My mother's pocket-books supply a few. 
 The very earliest that I am aware of is the being taken 
 out one night in the arms of the nurse to see an illu- 
 mination. I recollect being frightened at the report of 
 a gun, or some fireworks, and that advantage was taken 
 of my crying to carry me home. Now my mother 
 writes under February I5th, 1779, "The town (Bury 
 
 B 2 
 
 CHAP. F. 
 1775- 
 
 Birth of 
 
 Henry 
 
 Crabb 
 
 Robinson. 
 
 1775- 
 
 Earliest 
 Recollec- 
 tions of 
 H. C. R.
 
 School Days. 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 1780. 
 
 Mrs. 
 Bard ' s 
 School. 
 
 Early 
 Recollec- 
 tions. 
 
 St. Edmunds) illuminated in honour of Admiral Keppel." 
 I was then three years and nine months old, being born 
 May 1 3th, 1775. 
 
 I recollect going to a dame's school, to a Mrs. Bard 
 who lived in a very small house in the South Gate 
 Street. I find a payment of five shillings to Mrs. Bard 
 one quarter, for H. C. R. This was in July, 1780. 
 
 I have a very clear recollection of seeing my aunt 
 Williamson enter the keeping-room one morning and 
 lift up her hands in a melancholy way, on which my 
 mother exclaimed " My father's dead ! " In her pocket- 
 book she has written, Feb. 25th, 1781, "My dear 
 father died. 26th, Sister here by breakfast." This same 
 aunt Williamson had a doleful tone of voice which I 
 used to make game of; I recollect being reproved for 
 crying out on her coming one day from Wattisfield 
 " Behold, the groaner cometh." 
 
 I find that these are not the very earliest recollections, 
 for it appears that my grandmother Crabb died June 
 22nd, 1779 ; now I very well recollect hearing it dis- 
 cussed with my mother whether the departed would be 
 known in the other world, and saying " I shall know 
 my grandmamma in heaven by the green ribbon round 
 her cap." 
 
 Another very early, but also faint recollection is of 
 going with my mother to see the camp on Fornham 
 Heath, of being lost there, and taken into a tent by 
 some officers and feasted, and while there seeing my 
 mother pass, and calling out to her with great joy. 
 This must have been in the summer of 1778. 
 
 Of early education and religious instruction I recollect
 
 School Days. 
 
 next to nothing. I was an unruly boy, and my mother 
 had not strength to keep me in order. My father never 
 attempted it. I have a faint impression of having 
 learnt a catechism, in which there was this : " Dear 
 child, can you tell me what you are ? " A. " I am a 
 child of wrath like unto others." I have never found 
 this precisely in any catechism but I was brought up 
 with Calvinistic feelings. 
 
 It appears from my mother's pocket-book that I 
 went to school in the year 1781 to old Mr. Blomfield. 
 He was the grandfather of the present Bishop of 
 London. My brothers went with me for a short time. 
 They went to a boarding-school in 1782, and then, I 
 incline to think, I was removed to an inferior English 
 and Writing School kept by a Mr. Lease. 
 
 One really interesting occurrence I recollect which I 
 have often thought of as significant. There used to be 
 given to the boy who was at the head of his class a box 
 and ring, and he had a present if he could keep it a 
 certain number of days. On one occasion I lost it, to 
 my great sorrow, and as I thought, very unjustly ; there- 
 fore next day I went boldly to young Blomfield, who 
 was an usher under his father, and with a book in my 
 hand, and with a consciousness of injured innocence, said, 
 " Sir, you turned me down for spelling the word 
 
 so, but I was right after all. There, see ! I was right." 
 Mr. Blomfield smiled, patted me on the head, and said, 
 " Well, Henry, as you read it in a printed book you are 
 not to blame, but that's printed wrong." I was quite 
 confounded, I believed as firmly in the infallibility of 
 print as any good Catholic can in the infallibility of his 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 1781. 
 
 Mr. 
 
 Blomfield' s 
 School.
 
 Home. 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 1781. 
 
 Mother s 
 Influence. 
 
 church. I knew that naughty boys would tell stories, 
 but how a book could contain a falsehood was quite 
 incomprehensible. 
 
 I will here mention what is the most important of 
 all my reminiscences, viz. : that in my childhood my 
 mother was to me everything, and I have no hesitation 
 in ascribing to her every good moral or religious feeling 
 I had in my childhood or youth. Had she possessed 
 more knowledge and more activity she might have 
 made a much better character of me. But she was 
 guided by the instinct of motherly love and pious 
 feelings. It was, I dare say, with a purpose, that when 
 I had one day brought home a pin from Mrs. Ling's 
 (an old lady with whom she used to drink tea) she 
 made me carry it back with an apology, my excuse 
 being that I did not think it was of any value ; she 
 thus gave me a respect for property. This same Mrs. 
 Ling had an engraving in her parlour. She told me it 
 was Elisha raising the Shunammite's son. And what 
 story was that, I asked her. "I thought, Master R., 
 you had been better educated," she replied very 
 formally. I was much affronted, but set about reading 
 the Bible immediately. 
 
 My mother's mantua-maker was a Roman Catholic. 
 I was one day told to go to her, but was unwilling to 
 do so ; I said I was afraid of her, I was told she was a 
 Pope and would do me a harm. My mother scolded 
 me as a silly boy and forced me to go. I believe she 
 gave Mrs. Girt a hint, for the latter bribed me to 
 religious tolerance by giving me shreds of silk and 
 satin to clothe pictures with, which was a favourite
 
 Home. 
 
 employment. This reminds me that I had very early 
 a great horror of Popery, my first notions of which 
 were taken from a ballad relating how 
 
 ' ' As Mordecai the Jew one day 
 Was skating o'er the icy way," 
 
 he fell in, and would have been drowned, but a Popish 
 priest came by. The Jew called for help. "You, a 
 Jew ! I won't help a Jew." " If you will help me out 
 I will be baptized." "You must be baptized first." 
 The Jew consented, and then begged to be taken out. 
 " No," said the priest, " if I let you out you will .relapse 
 into Judaism and so be damned. I will rather save 
 your soul." 
 
 "And saying this he in a trice 
 Clapped Mordecai beneath the ice." 
 
 Could and would men closely examine they would 
 probably find that their most inveterate religious 
 prejudices, which they think their most valuable re- 
 ligious convictions, are of such origin. But Mrs. Girt's 
 bits of silk went far to counteract the ballad. 
 
 When a child, like other children, my faith was im- 
 plicit in what I was told to be true by my mother, and 
 I have no sense of devotion now, which I did not catch 
 from her. 
 
 The name of the minister whose religious services 
 my father and mother attended was Lincolne. He was 
 a gentlemanly person and inspired respect, especially 
 by a very large white wig. He was often at our house, 
 and his two daughters were my mother's very great 
 friends. When he came I used to be kept at a dis- 
 tance, for I was always running about as well as talking 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 
 1781. 
 
 Things con- 
 nee ted with 
 Religion.
 
 Home. 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 
 1781. 
 
 and he was afraid for his gouty toes. When I set 
 about reading the Bible I used to ask my mother 
 questions. Her prudent answer frequently was, "Ask 
 the minister, my dear." I recollect hearing some 
 anecdotes told of me and the minister, and some I 
 seem to recollect myself, one especially. I had taken 
 a great fancy to the Book of Revelation ; and I have 
 heard, but this I don't recollect, that I asked Mr. L. 
 to preach from that book, because it was my 
 favourite. "And why is it your favourite book, 
 Henry?" "Because it is so pretty and easy to under- 
 stand." 
 
 I had a happy childhood. The only suffering I 
 recollect was the restraint imposed upon me on Sun- 
 days, especially being forced to go twice to Meeting ; 
 an injurious practice I am satisfied. To be forced to 
 sit still for two hours, not understanding a word, was 
 a grievance too hard to be borne. I was not allowed 
 to look into a picture-book, but was condemned to sit 
 with my hands before me, or stand, according to the 
 service. The consequence was that I was often sent 
 to bed without my supper for bad behaviour at 
 Meeting. In the evening my father used to read aloud 
 Mr. Henry's Commentary, and in winter it was my 
 agreeable occupation to turn the apple pie that was in 
 a Dutch-oven before the fire, which was a great relief 
 from Mr. Henry. Once I recollect being whipped by 
 my mother for being naughty at Meeting. A sad 
 preparation for a religious life. 
 
 Now and then by way of treat or reward for good 
 behaviour I was allowed to. go to the Independent
 
 Home. 
 
 Meeting to hear Mr. Waldegrave preach. Mr. W. 
 as I afterwards knew, was an ignorant, noisy, ranting 
 preacher; he bawled loud, thumped the cushion, and 
 sometimes cried. He was, however, a kind man, and of 
 course he was a favourite of mine. It belongs perhaps 
 to a later time, but I well recollect he repeatedly used 
 the phrase, " But as the Tostle Paul say " (say is Suffolk 
 grammar). And after all I could carry away a thought 
 now and then from him. 
 
 To return to my mother's instructions ; I recollect 
 a practice of hers, which had the best effect on my 
 mind. She never would permit me (like all children, 
 a glutton) to empty the dish at table if there was 
 anything particularly nice, such as pudding or pie. 
 " Henry, don't take any more ; do you not suppose 
 the maids like to have some ?" A respect and attention 
 to servants and inferiors was a constant lesson, and if 
 I have any kindness and humanity in my ordinary 
 feelings I ascribe it all to her, and very much to this 
 particular lesson. 
 
 Of my schooling at Mr. Lease's I have little or 
 nothing to say. I was an ordinary boy and do not 
 recollect acquiring any distinction at school. The sons 
 of Mr. Lease I knew and the childreji of some other 
 Dissenters who went there ; but some others of my 
 acquaintance went to the Grammar School. This set 
 them above the rest of us, ?nd I believe I should have 
 wanted to go to the Grammar School too, but I had 
 heard that Mr. Lawrence was a flogging master, and I 
 was therefore glad to escape going there. 
 
 It was either in 1782 or 1783, the Annual Register 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 
 1782. 
 
 Mother. 
 
 Mr. Lease's 
 School.
 
 10 
 
 Home. 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 1782. 
 
 School 
 Plays. 
 
 of the year will say which, that there was a very hard 
 winter throughout the country. To raise a fund for 
 the poor of the town, the Grammar School boys were 
 induced to act plays at the theatre. I have a distinct 
 recollection of some of the boy actors ; the principal 
 play was Venice Preserved. There is nothing worth 
 noticing in the acting of the tragedy, but it is a 
 significant circumstance, and One that belongs to the 
 state of moral and religious feeling in the country 
 between sixty and seventy years ago,* that the farce 
 acted with Venice Preserved was Foote's Minor, the 
 performers being school-boys ! It would seem im- 
 possible, but it becomes less surprising when one 
 recollects that the hatred of the clergy was still 
 active against the Methodists, that Dr. Squintum 
 (Whitfield) was vigorously satirized, and that the 
 religious classes were the object of derision to all the 
 genteel part of the community, especially to the 
 clergy. I only wonder that I was allowed to be 
 present, but probably the Dissenters, certainly my 
 parents, knew nothing about such plays. 
 
 How much I understood of the farce I cannot now 
 tell. Perhaps little clearly. But children are content 
 with confused and obscure perceptions of a pleasurable 
 character. 
 
 When very young indeed my mother delighted me 
 by singing a ballad which must be in some of the 
 popular collections. It was about the rich young 
 lady who lived "in the famous town of Reading," 
 and fell in love with a poor lawyer. She challenges 
 
 * This was written in 1845.
 
 School Days. 
 
 ii 
 
 him and he is forced to fight or marry her in a mask. 
 He consults a friend who answers 
 
 " If she's rich you are to blame, 
 If she's poor you are the same." 
 
 Of course it ends happily. I used to delight in this 
 story. Children's moral feelings are not more delicate 
 than those of the people or their poets. 
 
 I recollect too the coming out of John Gilpin, and 
 rather think I had a sixpence given me for learning 
 it by heart. 
 
 My mother's sister married a Dissenting minister, Mr. 
 Fenner, who kept a boarding-school at Devizes. I was 
 accordingly sent to his school, where I remained three 
 years. The time passed pleasantly enough, but I have 
 often regretted that my educational advantages were 
 not greater at this period of my life. Among the places 
 in the neighbourhood where I spent some happy days 
 was a gentleman's seat called Blacklands. At that 
 time it was occupied by an old gentleman named 
 Maundrel, one of whose sons was at the same school 
 with me. The old gentleman was burly and bluff, 
 very kind and generous, but passionate ; once or twice 
 he did not scruple to box the ears of his young 
 visitors. Not far from the house was a horse cut out 
 of the chalk hill. I believe it exists still. Maundrel 
 set us boys there were some seven or eight of us 
 to weed it, and very good workmen we were. He 
 used also to make us carry logs of wood for the fires 
 upstairs, telling us that we must work for our living. 
 But he fed us well. 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 
 1786. 
 
 Mr. 
 
 Fenner s 
 School at 
 Devizes.
 
 12 
 
 School Days. 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 1788. 
 
 During my school life I obtained among my school- 
 fellows the reputation of being a good talker, and 
 was put forward as a speaker on public matters in 
 school, such as a combination against a head-boy. 
 And I was also noted as an inventor of tales, which 
 I used to relate to the boys in bed ; but this faculty 
 did not grow with me, and has utterly died away. I 
 had no distinction in any branch of school-exercise 
 but one, and this was French. I did not like learning 
 it at first, and wrote to my mother to beg that I 
 might be relieved from the task ; but she wisely took 
 no notice of my letter. Before I left school I liked 
 French above everything, and was quite able to read 
 with pleasure the French classics, as they are called. 
 
 I did not once go home during the three years of 
 my school life at Devizes, but in the summer of the 
 second year my mother came to see me. The sensa- 
 tion which I most distinctly recollect is that of seeing 
 her at the Turnpike-gate of the Green. I thought her 
 altered, or rather for a moment did not know her, 
 and that pained me ; but she gradually became to me 
 what she had been. 
 
 Though Mr. Fenner was a minister I received no 
 religious instruction at his school. What I fancied to 
 be religion was of my own procuring. I had fallen 
 in with De Foe's Family Instructor, and I became at 
 once in imagination a religious teacher. I had an 
 opportunity of trying my power, for during one of my 
 last holidays I was left with a few Irish boys when 
 Mr. and Mrs. Fenner went a journey. I was the 
 older and placed in authority over the other boys,
 
 School Days. 
 
 and I was not a little pleased with myself for my 
 mode of governing them. On the Sunday I read a 
 sermon to them, and I made the boys and servants 
 attend prayers. But I scorned reading a prayer ; I 
 prayed extempore, and did not hold my gift in low 
 estimation. 
 
 In the summer of 1789 I returned home with Mr. 
 Fenner and my aunt. My uncle Crabb had a few 
 years before accepted the office of pastor at the 
 Wattisfield Meeting, and as he intended to open a 
 school there, I went to him for the next half-year. 
 Our numbers were so few that we were subject to 
 little of the ordinary restraint of school. 
 
 It was while here that I had a letter from my brother 
 Thomas directed to " Mr. Robinson, Attorney at Law." 
 I had to ask Mr. Crabb to explain to me the nature 
 of an attorney's profession, which had been chosen for 
 me without my knowledge. 
 
 So entirely have I lost all recollection of the few 
 months spent at Wattisfield that I cannot call to mind 
 anything I studied or read. I only recollect having a 
 sentiment of respect and regard towards Mr. Crabb. 
 
 I recollect too that it was while I was with Mr. 
 Crabb that the French Revolution broke out, that 
 every one rejoiced in it as an event of great promise, 
 and that Popery and absolute government were both 
 to be destroyed. Though I had no proper political 
 knowledge, yet I had strong party feelings. In my 
 childhood I had always heard the Church spoken of 
 as an unjust institution, and thought Dissenters a 
 persecuted body. 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 1789. 
 
 Mr. Crabb' s 
 School at 
 Wattis- 
 field. 
 
 The French 
 Revolution.
 
 Religious Character 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 
 1789. 
 
 Mother. 
 
 I can testify to this fact, that very strong prejudice 
 may be raised without any degree or sort of knowledge 
 in justification of the sentiment. I knew too I was, 
 or rather that my friends were Presbyterians, and I 
 had a vague notion that the Independents were more 
 orthodox than was reasonable, and that there was a 
 degree of rationality compatible with sound doctrine. 
 Mr. Lincolne, too, our minister, was much more of a 
 gentleman and scholar than Mr. Waldegrave, the In- 
 dependent Minister. 
 
 Among my letters are a number by my dear mother. 
 Her memory is very dear to me, but I would not 
 have these letters survive me. They would not agree- 
 ably impress a stranger, but they express the warm 
 affections of a fond mother, full of anxiety for the 
 welfare of her children. Her mother-love was com- 
 bined with earnest piety. She had no doctrinal zeal, 
 and seems, though educated in a rigidly orthodox 
 family, to have had very little knowledge of religious 
 controversy. 
 
 It is worth mentioning that I have found my mother's 
 Experience, that is the paper she delivered in before 
 she was admitted a member of the church at Wattis- 
 field. The paper is in one respect curious ; it shows 
 that at that time even among the Independents, doc- 
 trinal faith was not the subject of a formal profession, 
 though of course inferred. In this paper there is no 
 allusion to the Trinity, or any other disputed doctrine. 
 Indeed, the word belief scarcely occurs. The one 
 sentiment which runs throughout is a consciousness 
 of personal unworthiness, with which are combined a
 
 of H. C. R:S Mother. 
 
 desire to be united to the Church, and a reliance upon 
 the merits of Christ. Therefore her orthodoxy was 
 indisputable. But when in after life her brother (the 
 Minister, Mr. Habakkuk Crabb) became heretical, 
 either Arian or Unitarian, and his son also professed 
 liberal opinions, she was not disturbed by these things 
 of which she had a very slight knowledge. 
 
 CHAP. i. 
 
 1789.
 
 i6 
 
 Clerk at 
 
 CHAP. ii. 
 1790-1795. 
 
 Dr. 
 
 Priestley. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN ARTICLED CLERK AT COLCHESTER. 
 
 WHILE I lived as an articled clerk with Mr. Francis 
 of Colchester, I learned the ordinary routine of an 
 attorney's office and was absorbed in newspaper and 
 pamphlet reading, in which religious controversy was 
 included. 
 
 On religious subjects I seem very quietly to have 
 given up my orthodoxy, and to have felt strongly for 
 Dr. Priestley on account of the Birmingham riots ; 
 but even the orthodox Dissenters became sympathizing 
 on that occasion. I attended a meeting of Dissenters 
 at Chelmsford to appoint deputies to go to London 
 to concert measures for the repeal of The Corporation 
 and Test Act ; we dined together, and among the toasts 
 given was one in honour of Dr. Priestley and other 
 Christian sufferers. I recollect that I was irritated by 
 the objection of one who was present that he did not 
 know Dr. Priestley to be a Christian. I replied that 
 if this gentleman had read Priestley's Letter to the 
 Swedenborgians he would have learned more of .real 
 Christianity than he seemed to know. I had myself, 
 however, not formed any distinct religious opinions, but 
 felt deeply the importance of religious liberty and the 
 rights of conscience. 
 
 Through Mr. Dobson, who afterwards became a dis- 
 tinguished mathematician at Cambridge, I formed an 
 acquaintance with a number of French emigrants on
 
 Colchester. 
 
 their escape from France during the horrors of the 
 Revolution, and my compassion for them modified my 
 Jacobinical feelings. I was, however, a Jacobin not- 
 withstanding, and felt great interest in one Mr. Patmore, 
 who was indicted for selling some of Paine's works, and 
 ultimately escaped through a defect in the indictment. 
 But my Journal records my shock at the death of the 
 King of France. My French attachment expired with 
 the Brissotine party, though in my occasional pious 
 moods I used to pray for the French. 
 
 At the Spring assizes of 1791, when I had nearly 
 attained my sixteenth year, I had the delight of hear- 
 ing Erskine. It was a high enjoyment, and I was able 
 to profit by it. The subject of the trial was the validity 
 of a will Braham v. Rivett. Erskine came down spe- 
 cially retained for the plaintiff, and Mingay for the 
 defendant. The trial lasted two days. The title of the 
 heir being admitted, the proof of the will was gone into 
 at once. I have a recollection of many of the circum- 
 stances after more than fifty-four years ; but of nothing 
 do I retain so perfect a recollection as of the figure and 
 voice of Erskine. There was a charm in his voice, a 
 fascination in his eye, and so completely had he won 
 my affection that I am sure had the verdict been given 
 against him I should have burst out crying. Of the 
 facts and of the evidence I do not pretend to recollect 
 anything beyond my impressions and sensations. My 
 pocket-book records that Erskine was engaged two 
 and a half hours in opening the case, and Mingay two 
 hours and twenty minutes in his speech in defence. 
 E.'s reply occupied three hours. The testatrix was 
 
 VOL. I. C 
 
 CHAP. n. 
 
 1790-1795. 
 
 French 
 Revolution. 
 
 Erskint.
 
 18 
 
 Clerk at 
 
 CHAP. ii. 
 1790-1795. 
 
 an old lady in a state of imbecility. The evil spirit 
 of the case was an attorney. Mingay was loud and 
 violent, and gave Erskine an opportunity of turning 
 into ridicule his imagery and illustrations. For in- 
 stance, M. having compared R. to the Devil going into 
 the Garden of Eden, E. drew a closer parallel than M. 
 intended. Satan's first sight of Eve was related in 
 Milton's words 
 
 ' ' Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, 
 In every gesture dignity and love; " 
 
 and then a picture of idiotcy from Swift was contrasted. 
 But the sentence that weighed on my spirits was a 
 pathetic exclamation " If, gentlemen, you should by 
 your verdict annihilate an instrument so solemnly framed, 
 / should retire a troubled man from this cotirt." And as 
 he uttered the word court, he beat his breast and I had 
 a difficulty in not crying out. When in bed the following 
 night I awoke several times in a state of excitement 
 approaching fever the words " troubled man from this 
 court" rang in my ears. 
 
 A new trial was granted, and ultimately the will was 
 set aside. I have said I profited by Erskine. I re- 
 marked his great artifice, if I may call it so ; and in a 
 small way I afterwards practised it. It lay in his frequent 
 repetitions. He had one or two leading arguments and 
 main facts on which he was constantly dwelling. But 
 then he had marvellous skill in varying his phraseology, 
 so that no one was sensible of tautology in the ex- 
 pressions. Like the doubling of a hare he was per- 
 petually coming to his old place. Other great advocates
 
 Colchester. 
 
 19 
 
 I have remarked were ambitious of a great variety of 
 arguments. 
 
 About the same time that I thus first heard the most 
 perfect of forensic orators I was also present at an 
 exhibition equally admirable, and which had a powerful 
 effect on my mind. It was, I believe, in October, 1790, 
 and not long before his death, that I heard John Wesley 
 in the great round Meeting-house at Colchester. He 
 stood in a wide pulpit, and on each side of him stood a 
 minister, and the two held him up, having their hands 
 under his armpits. His feeble voice was barely audible. 
 But his reverend countenance, especially his long white 
 locks, formed a picture never to be forgotten. There 
 was a vast crowd of lovers and admirers. It was for 
 the most part pantomime, but the pantomime went to 
 the heart. Of the kind I never saw anything compar- 
 able to it in after life.* 
 
 The following letter enters a little more into parti- 
 culars respecting this interesting occasion. 
 
 October i8t/i, 1790. 
 
 Dear Brother, 
 
 I felt a great Satisfaction last Week, 
 
 on Monday, in hearing (excuse me now) that veteran 
 in the Service of God, the Rev. John Wesley. I was 
 informed in the Afternoon that he was in Town and 
 would preach that Evening. Unfortunately a sick Man 
 had sent to have his Will made directly, and it was 
 
 * I have heard Mr. R. tell this more than once at his own table, with the 
 interesting addition that so greatly was the preacher revered that the people 
 stood in a double line to see him as he passed through the street on his way to 
 the chapel. G. S. 
 
 C 2 
 
 CHAP. n. 
 
 1790-1795. 
 
 John 
 Wesley.
 
 20 
 
 Clerk at 
 
 CHAP. ii. 
 
 1790-1795. 
 
 Death of 
 H. C. R.'s 
 
 Mother. 
 
 given to me to write. But Mr. Francis, seeing how 
 mortified I appeared, gave it to some one else, and I 
 went to the Chapel. At another time, and not knowing 
 the Man, I should almost have ridiculed his figure. 
 Far from it now. I lookt upon him with a respect bor- 
 dering upon Enthusiasm. After the people had sung 
 one Verse of a hymn he arose, and said : " It gives me 
 a great pleasure to find that you have not lost your 
 Singing. Neither Men nor Women you have not for- 
 got a single Note. And I hope that by the assistance of 
 the same God which enables you to sing well, you may 
 do all other things well." A Universal Amen followed. 
 At the End of every Head or Division of his Discourse, 
 he finished by a kind of Prayer, a Momentary Wish as 
 it were, not consisting of more than three or four words, 
 which was always followed by a Universal Buzz. His 
 discourse was short the Text I could not hear. After 
 the last Prayer, he rose up and addressed the People 
 on Liberality of Sentiment, and spoke much against 
 refusing to join with any Congregation on account of 
 difference in Opinion. He said, " If they do but fear 
 God, work righteousness, and keep his commandments, 
 we have nothing to object to." He preached again on 
 Tuesday Evening, but I was out of Town with Mr. 
 Francis all day, holding a Court Baron. ..... 
 
 I remain, &c., 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 1793- 
 
 On the 8th of January in this year died my dear 
 mother, an excellent woman I firmly believe, though 
 without any superiority of mind or attainments. Her
 
 Colchester. 
 
 21 
 
 worth lay in the warmth of her domestic affections, and 
 in her unaffected simple piety. After fifty-two years I 
 think of her with unabated esteem and regard. 
 
 1794. 
 
 Among my Colchester acquaintance there is one man 
 of great ability whom I recollect with pleasure, though I 
 was but slightly acquainted with him. This is Ben Strutt. 
 He was a self-educated man, but having been clerk to a 
 provincial barrister, the Recorder of the town, where he 
 had a great deal of leisure, he had become a hard reader 
 and so acquired a great deal of knowledge. He was a 
 man of literature and art, and without being an attorney 
 knew a great deal of law. He was a sort of agent to 
 country gentlemen, particularly in elections. He pub- 
 lished an edition of the poems of Collins, whom he 
 praised and declared to be much superior to Gray. 
 And I think (though I have lost the book) that it 
 contains additional stanzas by himself to the Ode on 
 Superstition. Strutt also painted in oil, and was skil- 
 ful as a mechanic. I recollect once having a peep into 
 his bedroom, in which were curious figures and objects 
 which I beheld with some of the awe of ignorance. I 
 looked up to him, and his words made an impression 
 on me. One or two I recollect. When I went to 
 Colchester I was very desirous of studying but I had 
 no one to direct me, and therefore followed the routine 
 practice and advice given to all clerks. I bought a 
 huge folio volume to be filled with precedents, and 
 copied therein my articles of clerkship. One evening 
 I was writing very industriously in this volume when 
 Ben Strutt came in. " I'm sorry to see you so lazy, 
 
 CHAP. ir. 
 1790-1795. 
 
 Benj. 
 Strutt.
 
 22 
 
 Acquaintance at 
 
 .CHAP. ii. 
 1790-1795. 
 
 young gentleman ! " " Lazy ! I think I'm very in- 
 dustrious." " You do ? Well now, whatever you think, 
 let me tell you that your writing in that book is sheer 
 laziness. You are too lazy to work as you ought with 
 your head, and so you set your fingers at work to give 
 your head a holiday. You know it is your duty to do 
 something, and try to become a lawyer, and just to ease 
 your conscience you do that. Had you been really 
 industrious you would have studied the principles of 
 law and carried the precedents in you head. And then 
 you might make precedents, not follow them." I shut 
 up the book and never wrote another line ; it is still in 
 existence,* a memorial of Strutt. Yet Mephistopheles 
 might have given the advice, for in my case it did harm, 
 not good. S. was cynical, a free-thinker, I think an un- 
 believer. Yet one day he said something that implied 
 he was a churchman. " What ! " I exclaimed, " you a 
 churchman ! " He laughed, " Let me give you a piece 
 of advice, young man. Whatever you be through life, 
 always be of the Act of Parliament faith." 
 
 I recollect a wise word of Strutt's about law. I had 
 been repeating to him some commonplace saying that 
 governments ought to enounce great principles, and not 
 to interfere with men's actions, or details. "Just the 
 contrary," growled Strutt, " Government has to do with 
 nothing but details ; of course it ought to do the right, 
 not the wrong thing, and it makes many blunders. 
 
 * Yes. It was found among his books by his executors after his death. It 
 gives evidence of great industry, accuracy, and neatness as well as order and 
 method. On page 76 of the book is the following memorandum at the end 
 of one of the precedents "Wrote this April ist, 1791, the first year of my 
 clerkship being then finished." The book is continued to page 120, and finally 
 stops in the middle of a precedent.
 
 ColcJiester. 
 
 There is no use in prating about abstract rights. It is 
 the business of Government to counsel people to do 
 what is right." In the same spirit at another time he 
 said, I having uttered some commonplace saying as if 
 Locke's principles had produced the Revolution, " That's 
 all nonsense, Locke's book was the effect, not the cause 
 of the Revolution. People do not rebel and overset 
 Governments because they have any ideas about liberty 
 and right, but because they are wretched, and cannot 
 bear what they suffer. The new Government employed 
 Locke to justify what they had done, and to remove the 
 scruples of weak, conscientious people." I believe I 
 owe a great deal to Strutt, for he set me thinking, and 
 had he been my regular instructor might have really 
 educated me. But I saw him only now and then. I 
 once saw him by accident in London a few years after 
 I had left Mr. Francis. He was going to the Opera ; I 
 mentioned that I had no ear for music, least of all for 
 Italian music. " Get it as soon as you can. You must 
 one day love Italian music, either in this or another life. 
 It is your business to get as much as you can here for, 
 as you leave off here you must begin there'' This, if 
 seriously said, implied a sort of hope of immortality 
 very much like that of Goethe. 
 
 Ben Strutt has been many years dead. He had a 
 son who survived him and became a painter. He made 
 a portrait of me, a disagreeable but a strong likeness. 
 
 On my becoming clerk at Colchester, only thirteen 
 miles from Witham, I had frequent opportunities of 
 visiting my relatives, the Isaacs, and through them I 
 became acquainted with others. Among these was Mr. 
 
 CHAP. it. 
 1790-1795. 
 
 Jacob 
 Pattissott.
 
 Acquaintance at 
 
 CHAP. ii. 
 
 1790-1795. 
 
 First 
 
 Printed 
 
 Essay. 
 
 Jacob Pattisson. He had a wife whom he married late 
 in life a cousin, deformed in person and disfigured 
 by the smallpox, but there was a benignity and moral 
 beauty in her face which rendered her a universal 
 favourite. Mr. Pattisson had only one child, who 
 became my most intimate friend for many years, and 
 our regard has never ceased. He is a few months 
 younger than myself. His education had been much 
 better than mine ; when young he was at Mr. Barbauld's 
 school. But his Dissenting connections had not been 
 favourable to his forming acquaintance superior to 
 himself, though his own family were wealthy. So that 
 when he and I met at Witham each thought the other 
 a great acquisition. Being of the same profession, 
 having alike an earnest desire to improve, and being 
 alike ignorant how to set about it, we knew no better 
 expedient than to become correspondents, and I have 
 preserved a formidable bundle of his letters, with copies 
 of my own. I have glanced over those of the first 
 year we began to write in the Spring I had hoped to 
 find in them some references to incidents that occurred, 
 but there is nothing of the kind. They are mere essays 
 on abstract subjects, mine at least very ill-written and 
 evincing no original thought whatever ; law questions 
 are discussed and criticisms on style fill many a dull page. 
 There are also occasional bursts of Jacobin politics. It 
 was this friend who drew my attention to the Cabinet, a 
 Norwich periodical, and set me on fleshing my maiden 
 sword in ink. 
 
 It was in December, 1794, that my vanity was de- 
 lighted by the appearance in print of an essay I wrote on
 
 Colchester. 
 
 Spies and Informers. It was published in the Cabinet, 
 which had been got up by the young liberals of the 
 then aspiring town of Norwich, which at that time 
 possessed two men of eminent abilities William 
 Taylor and Dr. Sayers. They, however, took very 
 little, or no part, in the Cabinet. Charles Marsh, Pitch- 
 ford, Norgate and Amelia Alderson were its heroes. 
 My essay is very ill-written, only one thought rather 
 pompously expanded, viz., that the shame of being an 
 informer ought to be transferred to the Law ; for the 
 detection of the breach of good laws ought to be 
 honoured. My friend Will Pattisson was also a con- 
 tributor to this periodical, under the signature of 
 Rusticus. 
 
 Another friend of this period, with whom I have ever 
 since retained an intimate acquaintance, was Thomas 
 Amyot. At the time of my beginning a correspon- 
 dence with Pattisson he was already the correspondent 
 of Amyot. He communicated the letters of each to 
 the other, and from first writing on Pattisson's letters 
 we began to write to each other directly, and became 
 correspondents without having seen each other. 
 Amyot's letters are far the best of the whole collection, 
 as in ability and taste he was far the superior of the 
 three. He was the son of a watchmaker in Norwich, 
 and clerk in the house of some eminent solicitors in 
 that town. Our correspondence had led to an invi- 
 tation to visit Amyot, and Pattisson joining me in the 
 visit, we met at the house of Amyot's father on the 5th 
 of December and remained there till the 9th. Within 
 a few years of this time, Amyot married the daughter 
 
 CHAP. n. 
 1790-1795. 
 
 Thomas 
 Amyot.
 
 26 
 
 Norwich. 
 
 CHAP. ii. 
 1790-1795. 
 
 Mrs. 
 Clarkson. 
 
 The 
 
 Taylors 
 of 
 
 Norwich. 
 
 Dr. 
 
 Alder son. 
 
 Trials of 
 
 Hardy, 
 
 Tooke, 
 
 and 
 
 Thelwall. 
 
 of Mr. Colman, a Norwich surgeon. He was fortunate 
 enough to become the law agent of Mr. Windham, and 
 when the latter became War and Colonial Minister, he 
 offered Amyot the post of private secretary. This was 
 readily accepted, and when after the death of his patron 
 this place was wanted for some one else, he was ap- 
 pointed Registrar in London of the West India Slaves, 
 an office which still remains, though slavery has been 
 long abolished. Why this should be I could never 
 learn. He became an active F.S.A., and is now (1846) 
 Treasurer of that learned and very dull body. 
 
 My visit to Norwich made me also acquainted with 
 Mrs. Clarkson, and that excellent couple Mr. and Mrs. 
 John Taylor, the parents of a numerous family, among 
 whom is Mrs. Austin. With several of the sons I am 
 now in very friendly, not to say intimate relations. I 
 was also very civilly received by Dr. Alderson, the 
 father of Amelia, who afterwards became Mrs. Opie. 
 I even now retain a lively recollection of this young 
 lady's visit to Bury, and of the interest excited by 
 her accomplishments and literary celebrity. Another 
 person with whom I became acquainted was William 
 Taylor, of whom I shall have occasion to write here- 
 after. 
 
 The perusal of my Journal for the year 1794 has 
 brought a few facts to my recollection that deserve 
 to be briefly mentioned. The chief of these are the 
 famous State Trials of Hardy, Home Tooke, and 
 Thelwall. I felt an intense interest in them. During 
 the first trial I was in a state of agitation that rendered 
 me unfit for business. I used to beset the Post Office
 
 State Trials. 
 
 27 
 
 early, and one morning at six I obtained the London 
 paper with " NOT GUILTY " printed in letters an inch in 
 height, recording the issue of Hardy's trial. I ran 
 about the town knocking at people's doors, and 
 screaming out the joyful words. 
 
 Thomas Hardy, who was a shoemaker, made a sort 
 of circuit, and obtained, of course, many an order in 
 the way of his trade. In 1795 he visited Bury, when 
 I also gave him an order, and I continued to employ 
 him for many years. His acquaintance was not without 
 its use to me, for his shop was one in which obscure 
 patriots (like myself) became known to each other. 
 Hardy was a good-hearted, simple and honest man. 
 He had neither the talents nor the vices which might 
 be supposed to belong to an acquitted traitor. He lived 
 to an advanced age and died universally respected. 
 
 Thelwall, unlike Hardy, had the weakness of vanity, 
 but he was a perfectly honest man, and had a power 
 of declamation which qualified him to be a mob orator. 
 He used to say that if he were at the gallows with 
 liberty to address the people for half an hour, he should 
 not fear the result ; he was sure he could excite them to 
 a rescue. I became acquainted with him soon after his 
 acquittal, and never ceased to respect him for his sin- 
 cerity, though I did not think highly of his under- 
 standing. His wife, who was his good angel, was a 
 very amiable and excellent woman. He was many 
 years a widower, but at last married a person con- 
 siderably younger than himself. Thelwall's two sons, 
 Hampden and Sydney, became clergymen. 
 
 CHAP. n. 
 1790-1795. 
 
 Thomas 
 Hardy. 
 
 Thelwall.
 
 28 
 
 At Bury St. Edmund's. 
 
 CHAP. in. 
 1795- 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 INTERVAL AT BURY. 
 
 AFTER leaving Colchester at Midsummer, 1795, I re- 
 mained at Bury till April in the next year. During 
 this time I had serious thoughts of being called to the 
 Bar ; it was I believe Mr. Buck who put this into my 
 head. He had always a good opinion of me. My 
 vivacity in conversation pleased him, and others like 
 him entertained the very false notion that the gift of 
 words is the main requisite for a barrister, a vulgar 
 error, which the marvellous success of such men as 
 Erskine and Garrow had encouraged. I was invited to 
 meet Mr. Capel Lofft at dinner that I might have the 
 benefit of his opinion. He was against my being 
 called. My acquaintance in general among others 
 not yet named, Walter Wright concurred in this view, 
 and the effect was that I neglected being entered a 
 member of an Inn of Court ; nevertheless I was averse 
 to being an attorney, for which I was as little qualified 
 as to be a barrister. I determined, however, to read 
 law and occupy myself as well as I could, living 
 meanwhile with the utmost economy. With youth, 
 health, high spirits, and, alternating with a very low 
 opinion of myself, a vanity which was gratified by 
 perceiving that I could readily make my way in society, 
 I was able to lead a busy idle life. In me was verified
 
 Acquaintance. 
 
 29 
 
 the strenua inertia of Horace. And in society I 
 verified a line of the French Horace, as his country- 
 men term him, 
 
 " Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui 1'admire." 
 
 I was now, as it were, entering society, and before I 
 relate the few incidents of the year, I will review the 
 more remarkable of the persons I then knew. 
 
 The most noticeable person I had ever been in 
 company with was Capel Lofft a gentleman of good 
 family and estate an author on an infinity of subjects ; 
 his books were on Law, History, Poetry, Antiquities, 
 Divinity and Politics. He was then an acting magis- 
 trate, having abandoned the profession of the Bar. He 
 was one of the numerous answerers of Burke ; and in 
 spite of a feeble voice and other disadvantages, an 
 eloquent speaker. This faculty combined with his 
 rank and literary reputation made him the object of 
 my admiration. 
 
 Another of my acquaintances was Walter Wright. 
 He was rather older than myself, and the object of my 
 envy for having been at Cambridge. He had been 
 trained for the Bar, but accepted a colonial appoint- 
 ment, first at Corfu and afterwards at Malta. Wright 
 published a small volume of poems entitled Horae 
 lonicae, which Lord Byron praised warmly in his first 
 satire. It was from this friend I used to hear of Lord 
 Byron when his fame first arose. W. was the friend 
 of Dallas, a barrister, and told me one day (this is an- 
 ticipation) that he had been reading a MS. poem, 
 consisting of two cantos, entitled " Childe Harold's 
 Pilgrimage," which Lord B. offered to present to Dallas 
 
 CHAP. HI. 
 
 1795- 
 
 Capel Lofft. 
 
 Walter 
 Wright.
 
 At Bury St. Edmund's. 
 
 CHAP. in. 
 J 795- 
 
 Catherine 
 Buck. 
 
 if he thought it worth his acceptance. " I have told 
 him," said Wright, "that I have no doubt this will 
 succeed. Lord B. had offered him before some trans- 
 lations from Horace, which I told him would never sell, 
 and he did not take them." 
 
 Walter Wright was Recorder of Bury.* He always 
 expressed a great interest in me ; and though at this 
 time he discouraged my going to the Bar he approved 
 of my doing so some years later. 
 
 But of far greater influence over me was the family 
 of Mr. Buck. And among these the one to whom I 
 was most devoted was his eldest daughter Catherine. 
 She was three years older than I. Being the playfellow 
 of her brother John, who was of my own age, I soon 
 became intimate at the house ; as I was perhaps the 
 most promising of her brother's playfellows, Catherine 
 took me in hand to bring me forward. I have very 
 severe letters from her, reproaching me for slovenliness 
 in dress, as well as rudeness of behaviour. But at the 
 same time she lent me books, made me first acquainted 
 with the new opinions that were then afloat, and was 
 my oracle till her marriage with the then celebrated 
 Thomas Clarkson, the founder of the Society for the 
 abolition of the slave-trade. After her marriage she 
 quitted Bury, but our friendship never ceased, and her 
 name will frequently occur in these reminiscences. 
 Catherine Buck was the most eloquent woman I have 
 ever known, with the exception of Madame de Stael. 
 She had a quick apprehension of every kind of beauty, 
 
 * This seems to be an error. John Symonds, LL.D., was Recorder at 
 this period.
 
 Acquaintance. 
 
 and made her own whatever she learned. She intro- 
 duced me to Lamb, Coleridge, Wordsworth, &c.* 
 
 Catherine Buck had an intimate friend in Sarah Jane 
 Maling, a person rather older than herself and of much 
 originality of mind and character. She was also one of 
 my friends. 
 
 It was in the spring of this year and before I left 
 Colchester that I read a book which gave a turn to my 
 mind, and in effect directed the whole course of my life 
 a book which, after producing a powerful effect on the 
 youth of that generation, has now sunk into unmerited 
 oblivion. This was Godwin's Political Justice. I was in 
 some measure prepared for it by an acquaintance with 
 Holcroft's novels, and it came recommended to me by 
 the praise of Catherine Buck. I entered fully into its 
 spirit, it left all others behind in my admiration, and I 
 was willing even to become a martyr for it ; for it soon 
 became a reproach to be a follower of Godwin, on 
 account of his supposed atheism. I never became an 
 atheist, but I could not feel aversion or contempt 
 
 * She felt it to be, as she herself expresses it, "a prodigious disadvantage 
 to a man not to have had a sister." But in Mr. Robinson's case she did her 
 utmost to make up the deficiency. Indeed, few elder sisters have done more 
 for a brother than she seems to have done for her friend. He had so much 
 esteem for her judgment and such a perfect reliance on the genuine kindness 
 which actuated all her conduct towards him that there was no danger of 
 offence or misunderstanding when she pointed out his weakness or faults, and 
 expressed her anxiety as to the effect of any pursuit on his character or on his 
 health. "There are many points," she says, "in which from the circum- 
 stances in which you have been placed, the habit of feeling you have acquired 
 is not like that of other people," but she adds, "of all those whom I knew in 
 childhood or youth you are the only one who has retained any likeness to 
 myself; and you are so like that I wonder how it is possible that you can be so 
 different." 
 
 CHAP. in. 
 
 1795- 
 
 Sarah Jane 
 Maling. 
 
 Godwin's 
 Political 
 Justice.
 
 At Bury St. Edmund's. 
 
 CHAP. in. 
 
 1795- 
 
 towards G. on account of any of his views. In one 
 respect the book had an excellent effect on my 
 mind it made me feel more generously. I had 
 never before, nor, I am afraid, have I ever since 
 felt so strongly the duty of not living to one's self, 
 but of having for one's sole object the good of the 
 community. His idea of justice I then adopted and 
 still retain ; nor was I alarmed by the declamations so 
 generally uttered against his opinions on the obligations 
 of gratitude, the fulfilment of promises, and the duties 
 arising out of the personal relations of life. I perceived 
 then the difference between principles as universal laws, 
 and maxims of conduct as prudential rules. And I 
 thought myself qualified to be his defender, for which 
 purpose I wrote a paper which was printed in Flower's 
 Cambridge Intelligencer. But one practical effect of 
 Godwin's book was to make me less inclined to follow 
 the law, or any other profession as a means of live- 
 lihood. I determined to practise habits of rigid 
 economy, and then I thought my small income would 
 suffice with such additions as might be gained by 
 literature. 
 
 In the autumn of this year I was led to take a part 
 in public matters, and from its being the first act of 
 the kind, I may here relate it. In consequence of Kyd 
 Wake's* attack upon the King two Acts were introduced, 
 called the Pitt and Grenville Acts for better securing the 
 
 * Kyd Wake, a journeyman 'printer, was convicted for insulting the King in 
 his state carriage, and sentenced to stand an hour in the pillory each day for 
 three months and to be imprisoned for five years. The "Treason" and 
 " Sedition" Bills were laid before Parliament Nov. 6 and Nov. 10, 1795. 
 
 See Stanhope's "Life of Wm. Pitt," vol. 2, page 358.
 
 Public Affairs. 
 
 33 
 
 King's person. They were deemed an infringement 
 on the constitution, and in every part of the kingdom 
 petitions were prepared against them and public meet- 
 ings held. The drawing up of the petition and obtain- 
 ing signatures at Bury were intrusted to Walter Wright 
 and myself. I was very active, but nevertheless im- 
 partial enough to see all that was foolish in the business, 
 and it is a satisfaction to me to recollect the great glee 
 with which I read Johnson's admirable satirical account 
 of a petition in his " False Alarm." I have pleasure also 
 in remembering that even while I was a partisan of the 
 French Revolution I was an admirer of Burke, not 
 merely for his eloquence, but also for his philosophy. It 
 was after the Bury petition had been prepared that a 
 county meeting was held at Stowmarket. Mr. Grigby 
 was in the chair ; the Whig Baronets Sir W. Middleton 
 and Sir W. Rowley attended ; but the hero of the day 
 was Capel Lofft. He spoke at great length, and as I 
 thought, very admirably. His voice was sweet, though 
 feeble. He was the only orator I had heard except at 
 the Bar and in the Pulpit. The Whig gentry became 
 impatient and at length retired, but by way of com- 
 promise, after Mr. Lofft's resolutions had been passed, 
 the Bury petition was clamorously called for. Towards 
 the end of the proceedings, I got upon the waggon and 
 was endeavouring to prompt Mr. Lofft to move a vote 
 of thanks, when he suddenly introduced me to the 
 meeting, as one to whom the county was greatly 
 indebted as the author of the petition. This little 
 incident served as a sort of precocious introduction to 
 public life. 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
 CHAP. m. 
 
 .1795- 
 
 The Pitt 
 
 and 
 
 Grenville 
 Acts.
 
 34 
 
 Lodgings in 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1796. 
 
 John T. 
 Rutt. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 1796 l80O. UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON. 
 
 ON the 2Oth of April I went to London with the inten- 
 tion of entering an attorney's office in order to qualify 
 myself for practice. This step was taken, not on 
 account of my having less dislike to the law as a pro- 
 "ession, but because friends urged me, and because I 
 was unwilling to remain idle any longer. My lodgings 
 were of a simple kind, in Drury Lane, and my expenses 
 not more than about a guinea a week ; but a first 
 residence in London cannot be otherwise than a kind of 
 epoch in life. 
 
 Among the new acquaintance which I formed there 
 is one of whom I was proud, and to whom I feel con- 
 siderable obligation John Towill Rutt. He was the 
 son of an affluent drug-grinder, and might possibly have 
 himself died rich if he had not been a man of too much 
 literary taste, public spirit, and religious zeal to be 
 able to devote his best energies to business. He was 
 brought up an orthodox dissenter, and married into a 
 family of like sentiments. His wife was an elder sister 
 of Mrs. Thomas Isaac, daughter of Mr. Pattisson of 
 Maiden and first cousin of my friend William Pattisson. 
 I was therefore doubly introduced to him. I had the 
 good fortune to please him, and he became my chief 
 friend. He had become a Unitarian, and was a leading
 
 London. 
 
 35 
 
 member of the Gravel-Pit congregation, Hackney, of 
 which Belsham was the pastor. Mr. Rutt was the friend 
 and biographer of Gilbert Wakefield and of Priestley. 
 He also edited the entire works of the latter. He was 
 proud of having been, with Lord Grey, an original 
 member of the Society of the Friends of the People. 
 The eldest daughter of his large family is the widow of 
 the late Sir T. N. Talfourd. 
 
 My days were spent in attending the courts with very 
 little profit. I heard Erskine frequently, and my 
 admiration of him was confirmed ; but I acquired no 
 fresh impression concerning him. 
 
 I tried to procure a suitable situation but without 
 success ; and this, with an almost morbid feeling of 
 my own ignorance, made me more unhappy than I 
 had been before, or ever was afterwards. Thus dis- 
 couraged, I returned to Bury in the summer. My 
 brother's marriage, which took place soon afterwards, 
 was the cause of my being introduced to an entirely 
 new connection the Fordhams and Nashes of Roy- 
 ston. The most prominent of the former for wealth 
 and personal character was Edward King Fordham, 
 a remarkable man, who retained his bodily and mental 
 vigour to a great age. Of all these new friends the 
 one to whom I became most indebted was Mr. Wil- 
 liam Nash, an eminent solicitor and a first-rate 
 character in the sphere in which he moved. Both 
 of these families were liberal in religious opinion 
 and zealous for political reform. There had been 
 established at Royston a book-club, and twice a 
 year the members of it were invited to a tea-party 
 
 D 2 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1796. 
 
 William 
 Nash. 
 
 Royston 
 Book Club.
 
 Clerk in 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1796. 
 
 at the largest room the little town supplied, and a 
 regular debate was held. In former times this debate 
 had been honoured by the participation of no less a man 
 than Robert Hall. My friend J. T. Rutt and Benjamin 
 Flower, the ultra-liberal proprietor and editor of the 
 Cambridge Intelligencer, had also taken part. To 
 one of these meetings my brother was invited and I 
 as a sort of satellite to him. There was a company 
 of forty-four gentlemen and forty-two ladies. The 
 question discussed was, " Is private affection incon- 
 sistent with universal benevolence ?" Not a disput- 
 able point, but it was meant to involve the merits 
 of Godwin as a philosopher, and as I had thought, 
 or rather talked much about him, I had an advantage 
 over most of those who were present. I have no 
 doubt that what I said was, in truth, poor stuff, but 
 I was very young, had great vivacity and an abun- 
 dance of words. Among the speakers were Benjamin 
 Flower, Mr. Rutt, and four or five ministers of the 
 best reputation in the place ; yet I obtained credit, 
 and the solid benefit of the good opinion and kind- 
 ness of Mr. Nash. He was told of my unsettled state 
 and my want of an introduction in London. He did 
 not offer to be of any practical use, perhaps had not 
 the means, but his advice was emphatically given in 
 the words, " Fag, fag, fag." By laborious fagging he 
 had raised himself to wealth and distinction. 
 
 On my return to my old London quarters in October 
 I entered a solicitor's office on the condition of nothing 
 being paid on either side. This was Mr. White's office 
 in Chancery Lane. My occupation was almost entirely
 
 London. 
 
 37 
 
 mechanical, and therefore of no great advantage to me. 
 My leisure was devoted partly to legal and miscella- 
 neous reading, from which I derived little profit, and 
 partly to attending debating societies, which afforded 
 me practice in public speaking, and thus materially 
 contributed to my moderate success in life. At the 
 meetings of one of these societies I frequently had, 
 as an adversary, John Gale Jones. At those of another, 
 to which Mr. Rutt introduced me, and which was pre- 
 sided over by Belsham, I formed a life-long friendship 
 with Mr. Anthony Robinson, whose powers of conversa- 
 tion were far greater than those of any other of my 
 acquaintance. 
 
 1797. 
 The Servile Year. 
 
 I have spent several days in deciphering a short-hand 
 journal, and looking over a collection of letters belong- 
 ing to this year ; an employment that - must have 
 humiliated me, if after half a century it were possible 
 to have a strong sense of personal identity. Thus much 
 I must say that if " the child " (in this instance the 
 youth) be " father of the man," I must plead guilty to 
 the impiety of despising my parent. 
 
 How long I should have gone on in my mechanical 
 work there is no guessing had not an accident relieved 
 me. 
 
 There came to the office one day a clerk who was 
 going to leave his situation at Mr. Hoper's (Boyle Street, 
 Saville Row), and he advised me to apply for it, which 
 I did, and was accepted as a conveyancing clerk at a 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1796. 
 
 Anthony 
 Robinson. 
 
 Clerk 
 
 at Mr. 
 
 Hoper's.
 
 Occupations in 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 
 1797. 
 
 Clerk at 
 
 Mr. Joseph 
 
 Hill's. 
 
 guinea a week. I went on the 5th of April. At the 
 end of three weeks, however, my employer told me 
 he should no longer need my services, but had recom- 
 mended me to a better place than his. This was in the 
 office of Mr. Joseph Hill, of Saville Row, with whom I 
 remained from the 28th of April till my uncle's death at 
 the close of the year. Mr. Hill's name appears in the 
 Life of Cowper, whose particular friend he was. He 
 had no general law practice, but was steward to several 
 noblemen. All I had to do was to copy letters, make 
 schedules of deeds and keep accounts. My service was 
 light but by no means favourable to my advancement 
 in legal knowledge. I attended* from half-past nine 
 or ten till five, and had therefore leisure for reading. 
 The treatment I received was kind, though I was kept 
 at a distance. Mr. Hill seemed to have an interest 
 in my welfare, and gave me good counsel. He had 
 a country house at Wargrave, on the Thames, and 
 was frequently absent for weeks together in the sum- 
 mer. When he was in London he sent me very nice 
 meat luncheons, which usually served me for dinner. 
 On the whole I was not at all uncomfortable, and 
 should have been even happy if I could have kept 
 out of my thoughts the consideration that I was, 
 after all, it was to be hoped, fit for something better 
 than to be a writing-clerk at a guinea a week. 
 
 On going to Mr. Hoper's I removed from Drury 
 Lane to small and neat rooms on the second floor at 
 20 Sherrard Street. One of my principal amusements 
 was the theatre. I had great pleasure in the acting of 
 Mrs. Jordan and others, but my admiration for Mrs.
 
 London. 
 
 3'9 
 
 Siddons was boundless. One little anecdote concerning 
 her effect upon me has been printed in Campbell's life 
 of her. I had told it to Charles Young and he thought 
 he was at liberty to repeat it for publication. 
 
 The play was " Fatal Curiosity," acted for her benefit. 
 In the scene in which her son having put into her hands 
 a casket to keep, and she having touched a spring it opens 
 and she sees jewels her husband (Kemble) enters, 
 and in despair exclaims " Where shall we get bread ? " 
 With her eyes fixed on the jewels, she runs to him, 
 knocks the casket against her breast and exclaims, 
 " Here ! Here ! " In Mrs. Siddons' tone and in her look 
 there was an anticipation of the murder which was to 
 take place. I burst out into a loud laugh, which 
 occasioned a cry of " Turn him out ! " This cry fright- 
 ened me, but I could not refrain. A good-natured 
 woman near me called out " Poor young man, he cannot 
 help it." She gave me a smelling-bottle which restored 
 me, but I was quite shaken, and could not relish the little 
 comedy of "The Deuce is in him," though Mrs. Siddons 
 played in it. I thought her humour forced, and every 
 expression overdone. By the bye, the title of the piece 
 may have been " Diamond cut Diamond." It is the 
 only piece in which I did not admire Mrs. Siddons. 
 
 The Forums were a source of great enjoyment to me. 
 They exercised my mind, and whatever faculty of public 
 speaking I afterwards possessed I acquired at these 
 places. If the attention my speeches received from 
 others may be regarded as a criterion my progress 
 seems to have been very considerable. In general the 
 speakers were not men of culture or refinement. There 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 
 1797. 
 
 Mrs. Sid- 
 dons. 
 
 The Forum.
 
 Acquaintance in 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1797. 
 
 Mr, and 
 Mrs. Col- 
 lier. 
 
 Gamaliel 
 Lloyd. 
 
 was one, however, of extreme liberal opinions who was 
 distinguished from all others by an aristocratic air. His 
 voice was weak but pleasing, and his tone that of a 
 high-bred gentleman. Some compliments paid me by 
 him were particularly acceptable. He was accompanied 
 by his wife, one of the most beautiful women I had ever 
 seen. On one occasion I chanced to sit next to her 
 and a very lively and agreeable lady who accompanied 
 her. No gentleman was with them. She asked me 
 whether I did not know Hardy the patriot ; and as she 
 seemed to know me, I ventured to offer my services in 
 procuring them a carriage. But none was to be had, 
 and so I saw them safely home. In a few days I had a 
 call from her husband, Mr. Collier, to thank me for my 
 attention. Thus began an acquaintance, which lasted 
 through life and was to me of inestimable value. The 
 Colliers passed through great changes of fortune, but if 
 I had it in my power to render them any service or 
 kindness I have always felt it to be very far below what 
 they rendered to me. Perhaps they thought otherwise 
 it is well when persons can so estimate their relation 
 to each other. 
 
 In some money transactions that passed between Mr. 
 C. and me, the only dispute we ever had was that 
 each wished to give the other some advantage which he . 
 would not take. The eldest son, John Payne Collier, 
 the editor of Shakespeare, is now one of my most 
 respected friends. The parents have long been dead. 
 
 At the Westminster Forum late in the year I made a 
 successful speech on the French Revolution, and among 
 those present was one of the most respectable inhabitants
 
 London. 
 
 of Bury, Gamaliel Lloyd, a gentleman of fortune a 
 Whig of the old school, a friend of Cartwright and 
 Wyvill as well as Capel Lofft. I knew him merely by 
 meeting him at the Bury Library. He complimented 
 me on this occasion, and an invitation to his lodgings 
 was the origin of an acquaintance of which I was 
 proud. He was a fine specimen of the Yorkshire 
 gentry. He has long been dead, leaving as his present 
 representative William Horton Lloyd, a most respect- 
 able man. Leonard Horner is the husband of G. L.'s 
 second daughter. One of her daughters will probably 
 be hereafter Lady Bunbury ; another is married to Sir 
 Charles Lyell. 
 
 My old friend Pattisson lodged in Carey Street. We 
 saw each other daily, and in order to avoid missing each 
 other we agreed always to pass through certain streets 
 between our two abodes. I recollect with tenderness 
 how many hours of comfort and enjoyment I owed to 
 his companionship. At his apartments I became ac- 
 quainted with Richard Taylor, the eminent printer and 
 common-council man. 
 
 1798. 
 
 On the first of January in this year I received the 
 news of the death of my uncle Robinson. He was 
 good natured and liberal, and richer than any other 
 relation. His property was left to my brothers and 
 myself. I soon ascertained that I should have about a 
 hundred pounds per annum. A very poor income for a 
 student aspiring to the Bar ; a comfortable indepen- 
 dence to fall back upon for one content to live humbly as 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1797- 
 
 Death of 
 
 H. c. R:S 
 
 uncle.
 
 Visits to 
 
 a literary man. Between a legal and a literary occupa- 
 tion I was unable at once to determine. All I resolved 
 on for the present was to quit Mr. Hill. With him I was 
 idling away my time and learning nothing. I remained 
 with him till the 5th of March, when he was able to 
 procure a successor. He dismissed me with good 
 advice, counselling me to lead a life of business, and 
 warning me against indulging in habits of speculation. 
 This he said in a parental way. I met him afterwards 
 in the streets, but was never recognized by him. 
 
 On the 6th of May I went down to Bury and did 
 not return till October. In the interval I made a visit 
 to Norwich and Yarmouth. At the latter place I 
 stayed four weeks. My main inducement was to read 
 to Harley, a blind man I became acquainted with 
 through Miss Maling. An interesting man in humble 
 circumstances. At Yarmouth also I fell in with two 
 young men about to go to Germany to study. One 
 afterwards became famous, Captain Parry, the traveller 
 and discoverer in the Polar regions. 
 
 But the most eventful occurrence of the year was an 
 introduction to William Taylor of Norwich, who en- 
 couraged in me a growing taste for German literature. 
 
 I had already thought of a visit to Germany, and 
 my desire to go was very much strengthened. But it 
 proceeded chiefly from dissatisfaction with my present 
 pursuits, and from a vague wish to be where I was 
 not. 
 
 What I have written about my general occupations 
 in 1797 is applicable to a large part of this year. I 
 went on reading in a desultory way. Books were oddly
 
 Bury, &c. 
 
 43 
 
 jumbled together in my brain. I took a few lessons in 
 German. 
 
 In my visit to Bury I found I had already acquired 
 a bad character for free thinking. This led to a corre- 
 spondence between the famous Robt. Hall and me. I 
 heard that he had told Mr. Nash it was disgraceful to 
 him as a Christian to admit me into his house. I re- 
 monstrated with Mr. Hall for this officious interference, 
 and asked him why he had defamed me. He answered 
 me in a letter, which I have preserved as a curiosity. 
 It is an excellent letter of the kind. He said he be- 
 lieved me to be a professor of infidelity, of pantheism, 
 and therefore as became him he warned a Christian 
 brother of the peril of intercourse with me. On his 
 own principles he was right. My letter I have also 
 preserved. It is as ill as his is well written. 
 
 To THE REV. R. HALL. 
 
 Yarmouth, y>th Aug., 1798. 
 Sir, 
 
 Your own good sense will suggest every apology 
 necessary for troubling you with this unpleasant letter. 
 Unpleasant it certainly is for me to write, and it will be 
 more or less so for you to receive, as your recollection 
 may echo the observations I have to make. I am 
 informed that you have of late distinguished yourself 
 by displaying much zeal against certain very prevalent 
 speculative opinions. And I am also told that in con- 
 nection with such subjects you have thought proper 
 frequently and generally to introduce my name and 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1798.
 
 44 
 
 Letter to 
 
 character. Recollecting probably the great secret of 
 poetry, where beauty and effect consist in the lively 
 representation of individual objects, you have, it 
 seems, found it convenient to point the sting of your 
 denunciation by setting the mark of censure and re- 
 probation on my forehead. I hear too that you have 
 travelled amongst my friends in a neighbouring 
 county, urging them no longer to honour me with their 
 friendship, and declaring it to be a disgrace to them to 
 admit me into their houses. I will name but one 
 person, and that a gentleman for whom I feel the 
 warmest sensations of esteem and love ; and the loss 
 of whose good opinion I should consider as a very 
 serious privation, Mr. Nash, of Royston. And this 
 style I understand you scruple not to hold in large and 
 mixed companies, where I am of course unknown, and 
 where only, I flatter myself, your labours could be 
 successful. Indeed, Sir, I as little deserve the honour 
 of such notice from you as I do the disgrace of so 
 much obloquy. But not having so much of the 
 childish vanity of being talked about, as of the honour- 
 able desire to be esteemed by the truly respectable, I 
 am compelled to remonstrate with you, and call upon 
 you for some reason why you have thus made an 
 attack, in its possible consequences incalculably in- 
 jurious to the reputation of a young man, who is an 
 entire stranger to you. Were I addressing a man of 
 the world, I know that what I have written is vague 
 enough to allow room for evasion and prevarication, 
 for a denial of having used the precise terms stated, 
 and for a demand of my authors. But I recollect that
 
 Rev. Robert Hall. 
 
 45 
 
 you have adopted a profession of high pretensions, and 
 that it is probable you will excuse yourself on the 
 ground of performing a religious duty. As such you 
 cannot scruple to inform me what more and worse 
 things you have said particularly what opinions they 
 are which excite so much anger, and what authority 
 you have for imputing them to me. I do not accuse 
 you of personal malignity, but I charge you with 
 wantonly casting arrows and death. And it matters 
 not to the sufferer whether sport or false zeal direct 
 the aim. I do not think you capable of inventing 
 calumny ; but it seems that you have heedlessly 
 built opinions on vague report, drawn unwarrantable 
 inferences from general appellations, and carelessly 
 trifled with the happiness of others as objects below 
 your regard. Constitutionally enthusiastic, I have 
 warmly expressed, perhaps without enow limita- 
 tions, my high admiration of the " Political Justice." 
 Hence, I suspect, all the misapprehension. I was 
 told by a gentleman who knows you well, that so 
 inveterate was your rage against Mr. Godwin, that when 
 any incident of xmnatural depravity or abandoned 
 profligacy was mentioned, your exclamation has been, 
 " I could not have supposed any man capable of such 
 an action, except Godwin." Excuse me when I add, 
 that had this been told me of a stranger, I should 
 have felt great contempt for him. I could not despise 
 Mr. Hall ; and therefore it only added one more to 
 the list of examples which prove a most important 
 truth, that the possession of the greatest talents is no 
 security against the grossest absurdities and weak- 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 
 1798.
 
 4 6 
 
 Letter to 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1798. 
 
 nesses. I do not chuse to consider this as an excul- 
 patory letter, and therefore I will not state why I 
 admire the " Political Justice ; " but as I understand 
 that the sprinkling I have felt is but a spray of the 
 torrent cast on poor Godwin, it is hardly irrelevant 
 for me to remark, that such intemperate abuse will 
 be received by some with stupid and vulgar applause, 
 and by others with pity and regret. I am anxious 
 you should not mistake me. I believe your motives, 
 so far as you could be conscious of them, were good ; 
 that zeal (always respectable whatever be its object) 
 alone impelled you ; but I fear that, like most zealots, 
 your views were confined and partial, and that, eager 
 to do your duty towards your God, you forgot what 
 you owed to your neighbour ; that your imagination, 
 forcibly excited by passion, waited not for the dull 
 enquiry, the tedious discrimination of your judgment ; 
 and that you reasoned absurdly, because you felt pas- 
 sionately. R. is a Godwinite therefore an atheist 
 therefore incapable of virtuous habits or benevolent 
 feelings therefore disposed only to commit crimes 
 and make proselytes therefore I ought to use my 
 appropriate weapons of excommunication by exciting 
 against him both his friends and strangers, and deprive 
 him of all power to do injury by blasting his reputa- 
 tion, and making him an object of hatred and con- 
 tempt. Thus, by the ruin of one, I shall save many. 
 Something of this kind, tho' certainly short of its 
 extent, has probably influenced you. However, giving 
 you credit for integrity and benevolence, of which I 
 shall be better able to judge hereafter, I remain,
 
 Rev. Robert Hall. 
 
 47 
 
 without enmity, and with respect for your general 
 character, 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 To MR. HENRY ROBINSON. 
 
 Octr. 13, 1798. Cambridge. 
 Sir, 
 
 That I have not paid to your frank and manly 
 letter the prompt and respectful attention it deserved, 
 my only apology is a variety of perplexing incidents 
 which have left me till now little leisure or spirits. 
 
 Before I proceed to justify my conduct, I will state 
 to you very briefly the information on which it was 
 founded, not doubting that where I may seem to usurp 
 the office of a censor you will attribute it to the 
 necessity of self-defence. 
 
 I have been led to believe you make no scruple on 
 all occasions to avow your religious scepticism, that you 
 have publicly professed your high admiration of the 
 " Political Justice," even to the length of declaring, I 
 believe at the Royston Book Club, that no man ever 
 understood the nature of virtue so well as Mr. Godwin ; 
 from which I have drawn the following inference 
 either that you disbelieve the being of God and a 
 future state, or that admitting them to be true, in your 
 opinion they have no connection with the nature of 
 virtue ; the first of which is direct and avowed, the 
 second practical atheism. For whether there be a God 
 is merely a question of curious speculation unless the 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 
 1798. 
 
 Letter from 
 Robert 
 Hall.
 
 4 8 
 
 Letter from 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1798. 
 
 belief in Him be allowed to direct and enforce the 
 practice of virtue. The theopathetic affections, such as 
 love, reverence, resignation, &c., form in the estimation 
 of all theists a very sublime and important class of 
 virtues. Mr. Godwin as a professed atheist is very 
 consistent in excluding them from his catalogue ; but 
 how he who does so can be allowed best to understand 
 the nature of virtue, by any man who is not himself an 
 atheist, I am at a loss to conceive. 
 
 A person of undoubted veracity assured me that on 
 being gently reprimanded by a lady for taking the 
 name of God in vain in a certain company, you apolo- 
 gized by exhibiting such an idea of God as appeared 
 to him to coincide with the system of Spinoza, in which 
 everything is God, and God is everything. Since the 
 receipt of your letter I applied to this gentleman, who 
 confirms his first information, but is concerned at 
 having mentioned, the circumstance, as it might be 
 construed into an abuse of the confidence of private 
 conversation. You will oblige me by not compelling 
 me to give up his name. Of this you may rest satisfied, 
 he will make no ungenerous use of this incident, and 
 that his character is at the utmost removed from that of 
 a calumniator. He will not affirm the sentiments you 
 uttered were serious ; they might be a casual effort of 
 sportive ingenuity, but their coincidence with other 
 circumstances before mentioned strengthened my 
 former impressions. 
 
 More recently I have been told your chief objection 
 to the system of Godwin is an apprehension of its 
 being too delicate and refined for the present corrupt
 
 Rev. Robert Hall. 
 
 49 
 
 state of society; which from a person of your 
 acknowledged good sense surprised me much, because 
 the most striking and original part of his system, that 
 to which he ascends, through the intermediate stages, 
 as the highest point of perfection the promiscuous 
 intercourse of the sexes has been uniformly acted upon 
 by all four-footed creatures from the beginning of the 
 world. 
 
 In another particular I am sincerely glad to find 
 myself mistaken. From a late conversation with Mr. 
 Ebenezer Foster, I was induced to suppose you had 
 been at pains to infuse into his mind atheistical doubts. 
 I retract this opinion with pleasure as founded on mis- 
 apprehension. Having no reason to doubt of your 
 honour, your disavowal of any opinion will be perfectly 
 satisfactory. I will repeat that disavowal to any person 
 whom I may have unintentionally misled. 
 
 In exonerating me from the suspicion of being 
 actuated by personal malignity, you have done me 
 justice ; but you have formed an exaggerated idea of 
 those circumstances in my conduct which wear the 
 appearance of hostility. Your moral character has been 
 unimpeached. I have neither invented nor circulated 
 slander. On the contrary, when I have expressed 
 myself with the greatest freedom, I have been careful 
 to premise that I had no personal acquaintance 
 with you, that your manners might for anything I 
 knew be correct, and that all the censure attached 
 or fear expressed was confined to the licentious 
 opinions I understood you to embrace. I have never 
 travelled a mile on your account. My efforts have been 
 
 VOL. i. E 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1798.
 
 Letter from 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1798. 
 
 confined to an attempt within a very limited circle (for it 
 is in a very limited circle I move) to warn some young 
 people against forming a close intimacy with a person 
 who by the possession of the most captivating talents 
 was likely to give circulation and effect to the most 
 dangerous errors. As you allude to a conversation with 
 Mr. Nash (whom in common with you I highly esteem), 
 I will relate it to you as nearly as my recollection 
 will serve. After a sort of desultory debate on heresy 
 and scepticism, he told me he designed at your next 
 visit to.Royston to request you to make his house your 
 home. Warmed in a degree, though not irritated by 
 the preceding dispute, I replied it was all very proper 
 considering him as a man of the world, but considering 
 him as a Christian it was very unprincipled, an ex- 
 pression of greater asperity, I will allow, than either 
 politeness to him or delicacy to you will perfectly justify. 
 I conceived myself at liberty to express my sentiments 
 the more freely to Mr. Nash because he is a member 
 and an officer in our Church. 
 
 I have ventured repeatedly to express my appre- 
 hension of baneful consequences arising from your 
 attendance at the book-club, where if your principles 
 be such as I have supposed, you have a signal oppor- 
 tunity, from the concourse of young people assembled, 
 of extending the triumph of the new philosophy. 
 
 Such, as far as my recollection reaches, is the faithful 
 sketch of those parts of my conduct which have pro- 
 voked your displeasure. 
 
 To make an attack in its possible consequences 
 incalculably injurious, to seek the salvation of others
 
 Rev. Robert Hall. 
 
 by your ruin, are the gigantic efforts of a powerful 
 malignity, equally remote from my inclination and 
 ability. The rapid increase of irreligion among the 
 polite and fashionable, and descending of late to the 
 lower classes, has placed serious believers so entirely 
 on the defensive, that they will think themselves happy 
 if they can be secure from contempt and insult. 
 
 How far a regard to speculative opinion ought to 
 regulate the choice of our friendships, is a delicate 
 question never likely to be adjusted harmoniously by 
 two persons who think so differently of the importance 
 of truth and the mischief of error. Principles of irre- 
 ligion, recommended by brilliant and seductive talents, 
 appear to me more dangerous in the intercourse of 
 private life than licentious manners. 
 
 Vice is a downcast, self-accusing culprit ; error often 
 assumes an appearance which captivates and dazzles. 
 The errors or rather the atrocious speculations of 
 Godwin's system are big with incalculable mischief. 
 They confound all the duties 'and perplex all the 
 relations of human life : they innovate in the very 
 substance of virtue, about which philosophers of all 
 sects have been nearly agreed. They render vice 
 systematic and concerted ; and by freeing the conscience 
 from every restraint, and teaching men to mock at 
 futurity, they cut off from the criminal and misguided 
 the very possibility of retreat. Atheism in every form 
 I abhor, but even atheism has received from Godwin 
 new degrees of deformity, and wears a more wild and 
 savage aspect. I am firmly of opinion the avowal of 
 such a system, accompanied with an attempt to pro- 
 
 E 2 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 
 1708.
 
 Letter from Robert Hall. 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1798. 
 
 selyte, ought not to be tolerated in the state, much 
 less be permitted to enter the recesses of private life, 
 to pollute the springs of domestic happiness or taint 
 the purity of confidential intercourse. For the first 
 of these sentiments, Mr. Godwin's disciples will doubt- 
 less regard me with ineffable contempt ; a contempt 
 which I am prepared to encounter, shielded by the 
 authority of all pagan antiquity, as well as by the 
 decided support of Mr. Locke, the first of Christian 
 philosophers and political reasoners. 
 
 I appeal to a still higher authority for the last, to 
 those Scriptures which as a Christian minister I .am 
 solemnly pledged not only to explain and inculcate, 
 but to take for the standards of my own faith and 
 practice. 
 
 The Scriptures forbid the disciples of Christ to form 
 any near relation, any intimate bond of union, with 
 professed infidels. "Be ye not unequally yoked to- 
 gether with unbelievers ; for what fellowship hath right- 
 eousness with unrighteousness, and what communion 
 hath light with darkness, and what concord hath Christ 
 with Belial, and what part hath he that believeth with an 
 infidel? Wherefore come out from amongst them and 
 be ye separate, saith the Lord." If it be urged that 
 this precept primarily respects the case of marriage 
 with an infidel, it is obvious to reply that the reason 
 of marriage with such persons being prohibited is the 
 intimate friendship which such union implies. 
 I am, Sir, 
 
 Your humble servant, 
 
 R. HALL.
 
 Unsettled Life. 
 
 53 
 
 1799. 
 
 When I became a professed follower of Godwin as 
 a moral philosopher I could not but be also an admirer 
 of his ally Holcroft, whose novels " Anna St. Ives " 
 and " Hugh Trevor " I had read with avidity ; and I 
 had thought his conduct noble in surrendering himself 
 in court when the trial of Thomas Hardy began. I 
 was introduced to Holcroft by Collier, but the ac- 
 quaintance never flourished. I was present, however, 
 at a remarkable dinner at his house (i4th March). 
 Aicken, of the Drury Lane company, highly respect- 
 able both as a man and an actor, and Sharp the 
 engraver, were there. The latter is still named as 
 one of the most eminent of English engravers ; he is 
 at the head of the English school. I possess one of 
 his works which is a masterpiece " The Doctors of 
 the Church " by Guido. I am no connoisseur certainly, 
 and perhaps have no delicate sense of the beauty of 
 engraving ; but I never look on this specimen without 
 a lively pleasure. Sharp was equally well known in 
 another character which I will exemplify by an anec- 
 dote from the lips of Flaxman. "After Brothers had 
 rendered himself by his insanity the object of universal 
 interest, to which publicity had been given by the 
 motion of Halked in the House of Commons, I had 
 a visit from my old friend Sharp. ' I am come,' said 
 he, ' to speak to you on a matter of some importance. 
 You are aware of the great mission with which the 
 Lord has intrusted Brothers?' I intimated that I had 
 heard what everybody else had heard. 'Well,' he 
 continued, ' perhaps you have not heard that I am to 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799. 
 
 Holcroft. 
 
 Sharp the 
 Engraver,
 
 54 
 
 Unsettled Life 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 
 1799. 
 
 Sharp and 
 Flaxman. 
 
 accompany the Children of Israel on their taking 
 possession of their country, the Holy Land. Indeed, 
 I think I shall have much to do in the transplanting 
 of the nation. I have received my instructions, and 
 I have to inform you that you also are to accompany 
 them. I know from authority that you are of the 
 seed of Abraham.' I bowed and intimated my sense 
 of the honour done me by the invitation, but said it 
 was quite impossible. I had other duties set out for 
 me. On my return from Rome, I bought this house, 
 and established myself here, and here I must main- 
 tain myself and my family. ' I am aware of all that,' 
 said Sharp, ' and I have arranged everything. I know 
 very well you are a great artist, I know too that you 
 are a great architect as well as a great sculptor. I 
 shall have intrusted to me the office of making all the 
 chief appointments on this journey, and I pledge my- 
 self that you shall have the rebuilding of the Temple.' " 
 The same mental delusion showed itself at the dinner at 
 Holcroft's. On leaving the table Sharp called his host 
 out of the room to say that Buonaparte was quite safe 
 it was communicated to him last night by authority. 
 There had been a great battle yesterday in Germany. 
 Sharp was one of the objects of suspicion to the English 
 Government during the famous trials of 1794. He was 
 a violent Jacobin and an extreme and passionate par- 
 tisan of the Republicans. There is to be met with in 
 the cabinets of the curious an admired engraving by 
 him of Thomas Paine, as also of Brothers, whom he 
 regarded as the messenger and sent of God.* 
 
 * Sharp's engraving of "Richard Brothers, Prince of the Hebrews," is a
 
 In London. 
 
 55 
 
 It is well known that the French Revolution turned 
 the brains of many of the noblest youths in England. 
 Indeed, when such men as Coleridge, Wordsworth, 
 Southey, caught the infection, no wonder that those 
 who partook of their sensibility but had a very small 
 portion of their intellect were carried away. Many 
 were ruined by the errors into which they were 
 betrayed ; many also lived to smile at the follies of 
 their youth. " I am no more ashamed of having 
 been a republican," said Southey, " than I am of 
 having been a child." The opinions held led to many 
 political prosecutions, and I naturally had much sym- 
 pathy with the sufferers. I find in my journal, February 
 2 ist, 1799, "An interesting and memorable day." It 
 was the day on which Gilbert Wakefield was con- 
 victed of a seditious libel and sentenced to two years' 
 imprisonment. This he suffered in Dorchester gaol, 
 which he left only to die. Originally of the Established 
 Church, he became a Unitarian, and professor at the 
 Hackney College. By profession he was a scholar. 
 His best known work was an edition of " Lucretius." 
 He had written against Porson's edition of the " Hecuba 
 of Euripides."* It is said that Porson was at a dinner- 
 party at which toasts were going round ; and a name, 
 accompanied by an appropriate sentence from Shake- 
 speare, was required from each of the guests in 
 succession. Before Porson's turn came he had dis- 
 appeared beneath the table and was supposed to be 
 
 small square, dated 1795. Below it is inscribed : ' ' Fully believing this to be the 
 Man whom GOD has appointed, I engrave his likeness. -WILLIAM SHARP." 
 
 * In Euripidis Hecubam Londini nuper publicatam Diatribe Extemporalis. 
 1/97- 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799. 
 
 The French 
 Revolution. 
 
 Gilbert 
 Wakefield.
 
 Unsettled Life 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799. 
 
 insensible to what was going on. This, however, was 
 not the case, for when a toast was required of him, 
 he staggered up and gave " Gilbert Wakefield ! what's 
 Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba ? " Wakefield was 
 a political fanatic. He had the pale complexion and 
 mild features of a saint, was a most gentle creature in 
 domestic life, and a very amiable man ; but when he 
 took part in political or religious controversy his pen 
 was dipped in gall. The occasion of the imprisonment 
 before alluded to was a letter in reply to Watson, 
 the Bishop of Llandaff, who had written a pamphlet 
 exhorting the people to loyalty. Wakefield asserted 
 that the poor, the labouring classes, could lose nothing 
 by French conquest. Referring to the fable of the 
 Ass and the Trumpeter he said, " Will the enemy make 
 me carry two panniers ? " and declared that if the 
 French came they would find him at his post with the 
 illustrious dead. 
 
 The prosecution was not intemperate, but he gloried 
 in what he had done, and was actuated by the spirit of 
 martyrdom. Nothing could be more injudicious than 
 his defence, though in a similar trial an example had 
 been set him just before by Erskine of what such a 
 defence should be. My friend Rutt was one of Wake- 
 field's bail. On being brought up for judgment he spoke 
 in mitigation, but in a way which aggravated the offence. 
 I accompanied him in a hackney-coach to the King's 
 Bench prison. While his friends were arranging with the 
 Governor about rooms there were brought to the prison 
 two young men named Parry, editors of The Courier 
 newspaper, who had been sentenced to six weeks' impri-
 
 In London. 
 
 57 
 
 sonment for a libel on the Emperor of Russia; The 
 libel consisted in a simple paragraph, stating that the 
 Emperor had acted oppressively and made himself 
 unpopular with the nobility by a late decree prohi- 
 biting the importation of timber. Such was the liberty 
 of the Press in the days of William Pitt ! 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. ROBINSON. 
 Dear Thomas, 
 
 (No 
 
 One of the most interesting occur- 
 rences here has been Wakefield's trial. How I wished 
 that you had been here then ! My acquaintance with 
 him perhaps heightened the effect ; but I think to a 
 mere stranger his delivery of his own defence must have 
 been one of the most gratifying treats which a person 
 of taste or sensibility could enjoy. His simplicity 
 quite apostolic, his courage purely heroic. The energy 
 and dignity with which he conducted himself have cer- 
 tainly had no parallel of late years. You saw a report 
 of his speech in The Courier. It certainly was not a 
 good defence, but as Anthony Robinson observed, some- 
 thing better than any defence a noble testimony. I 
 dined in company with him on Monday and yesterday. 
 His spirits are not in the least depressed. 
 
 Johnson, the Unitarian publisher in St. Paul's 
 Churchyard, was convicted of a libel for selling Wake- 
 field's pamphlet ; he was imprisoned in the King's 
 Bench for a few months. For a consideration he was 
 allowed to occupy apartments within the rules. My first 
 visit to him in prison was in company with Mary Hays,* 
 
 * She professed Mary Wollstonecraft's opinions with more zeal than discre- 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799- 
 
 Johnson the 
 Publisher.
 
 5.8 
 
 Unsettled Life 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799. 
 
 a very zealous political and moral reformer, a friend 
 of Mary Wollstonecraft, and author of a novel called 
 " Memoirs of Emma Courtney." I called on Johnson 
 several times and profited by his advice. He was a wise 
 man, and his remarks on the evil of indulging in melan- 
 choly forebodings were applicable to a habit of my own. 
 He described them as the effect of dreamy indolence, 
 and as liable to increase from the unhealthy state into 
 which they bring the mind. Though he did not cure 
 me of my fault, some of its consequences were miti- 
 gated. I was especially unhappy from my inability to 
 come to any satisfactory conclusion as to my plan of life. 
 I hated the law, yet I knew not how otherwise to attain 
 any social station. I was ambitious of literary distinc- 
 tion, but was conscious that I could never attain any 
 reputation worth having. My desire to go to Germany 
 was rather a pis aller, than from any decided preference 
 of the comparative advantages of such a course. 
 
 One other political prisoner occasionally visited by me 
 was Benjamin Flower, who had been committed to New- 
 gate by the House of Lords for a breach of privilege. 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS BROTHER. 
 
 (About} June, 1799. 
 My dear Brother, 
 
 I suppose the fame of " Pizarro " has 
 
 already reached you. It is unquestionably the most ex- 
 cellent play I ever saw for variety of attractions. The 
 
 tion. This brought her into disrepute among the rigid, and her character 
 suffered but most undeservedly. Whatever her principles may have been, her 
 conduct was perfectly correct. My acquaintance with her continued till her 
 death. H. C. R.
 
 /;/ London. 
 
 59 
 
 scenery and decorations are splendid and magnificent 
 without being tawdry or puerile, and these ornaments 
 are made to heighten, not supersede, real dramatic merit. 
 The tragedy possesses scenes of the most tender and 
 pathetic kind, and others highly heroic. Mrs. Siddons 
 displays her usual powers in the character of the 
 mistress of Pizarro proud, haughty, with a true sense 
 of honour and a romantic passion for glory ; in love with 
 Pizarro because he was great, she hates him when 
 he degrades himself by acts of meanness herself a 
 criminal, her passion for humanity leads her to acts of 
 heroism and desperation. Kemble plays the Peruvian 
 Chieftain in his very best style. The lover of Cora, he 
 voluntarily yields her to Alonzo, and when they are 
 married, devotes his life to their happiness ; brave, 
 generous, and pious, he is a kind of demi-god, and you 
 know with what skill Kemble can "assume the god and 
 try to shake the spheres." The incidents are in them- 
 selves so highly interesting and extraordinary that far 
 less superiority of acting and pomp of machinery would 
 have given ordinary effect to the piece ; but, when 
 united with the utmost efforts of the Painter and 
 Machinist, they produce a drama absolutely without 
 parallel. Were you a little richer I should recommend 
 a journey to London on purpose to see it. 
 
 I have also been greatly amused by hearing one of 
 Mackintosh's lectures. It was on the British Constitu- 
 tion. Though his praise of the British Constitution was 
 extravagant, he was far from being uniformly favourable 
 to the cause of Government. His favourite notion con- 
 cerning the Constitution is, that it is the most truly 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799. 
 
 Mrs. Sid- 
 dons and 
 
 Kemble in 
 Pizarro.
 
 6o 
 
 Unsettled Life 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799. 
 
 Mackintosh 
 on the 
 British 
 Constitu- 
 tion. 
 
 Home 
 Tooke. 
 
 democratic of any that has ever existed. He defines 
 a real democracy to be a government where the opinion 
 of the body of the people influences and governs the 
 State, whatever the nominal legislature may be. And 
 he boldly asserts that a more formal democracy would 
 lessen the real democracy, because it is the nature of all 
 mobs and public assemblies to be under the secret 
 guidance of factious demagogues ; and that the people 
 in such states never act, precisely because they are the 
 direct actors, and have a power nominally given them 
 which they cannot exercise. He urged the common 
 argument in favour of Monarchy, that it took from 
 the ambitious the motives to be factious and breed 
 dissension in order to procure the principal stations ; 
 and that the King, sharing the honour of victory and 
 the affections of the soldiery with the General, was 
 not likely to become a military tyrant. He defended 
 Coalitions, Parties, and moderation towards ex-Min- 
 isters, was eloquent against the French, but likewise 
 hinted at the danger to public liberty from not watching 
 the Government. On the whole I was much pleased 
 with the lecture, which was well adapted to secure 
 popularity. As to his politics, they are certainly 
 moderate, nor do I know that he has gone an inch 
 beyond pure Whiggism. 
 
 Home Tooke has never been a favourite of mine, but 
 I never thought so well of his heart as I have done from 
 his behaviour to Wakefield, which was kind and re- 
 spectful ; and when we consider, not how like, but how 
 unlike their characters are, his attentions do him the 
 greatest honour. The day sentence was passed he sent
 
 In London. 
 
 61 
 
 to Wakefield, and, in his jocular way, comforted him by 
 observing that probably a year hence he and Mrs. 
 Wakefield would be congratulating each other on his 
 situation " For, my dear, it has saved you," Mrs. 
 Wakefield will say ; " you see Tooke and the rest of 
 them are half way on their voyage to Botany Bay." 
 Home Tooke promised too, old as he was, to visit him 
 at Dorchester, though he said he had not thought he 
 should travel seven miles from Wimbledon again. This 
 looks well. You have heard, I dare say, that Tooke's 
 friends have lately raised him an annuity for life of 
 ;6oo. This following Dr. Parr's and Fox's seems to 
 show that all regard for public characters is not at an 
 
 end 
 
 Adieu. In haste, 
 
 Yours, &c., 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 I became acquainted about this time with George 
 Dyer. He was one of the best creatures morally that 
 ever breathed. He was the son of a watchman in 
 Wapping, and was put to a charity school by some 
 pious Dissenting ladies. He afterwards went to Christ's 
 Hospital, and from there was sent to Cambridge. He 
 was a scholar, but to the end of his days (and he lived 
 to be eighty-five) was a bookseller's drudge. He led 
 a life of literary labour in poverty. He made indexes, 
 corrected the press, and occasionally gave lessons in Latin 
 and Greek. When an undergraduate at Cambridge he 
 became a hearer of Robert Robinson, and consequently 
 a Unitarian. This closed the Church against him, and 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1/99-
 
 62 
 
 Unsettled Life 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799. 
 
 he never had a Fellowship. He became intimate with 
 the Nashes, Fordhams, and Rutt, and was patronized 
 by Wakefield and Mrs. Barbauld. He wrote one good 
 book " The Life of Robert Robinson," which I have 
 heard Wordsworth mention as one of the best works of 
 biography in the language. Dyer also put his name to 
 several volumes of poetry ; but on his poems my friend 
 Reid made an epigram that I fear was thought just : 
 
 1 ' The world all say, my gentle Dyer, 
 Thy odes do very much want fire. 
 Repair the fault, my gentle Dyer, 
 And throw thy odes into the fire. " 
 
 Dyer had the kindest heart and simplest manners 
 imaginable. It was literally the case with him that he 
 would give away his last guinea. He was not sensible 
 of any impropriety in wearing a dirty shirt or a ragged 
 coat ; and numerous are the tales told in illustration of 
 his neglect of little every-day matters of comfort. He 
 has asked a friend to breakfast with him, and given him 
 coarse black tea, stale bread, salt butter, sour milk, and 
 has had to run out to buy sugar. Yet every one loved 
 Dyer. One day Mrs. Barbauld said to me, " Have you 
 heard whom Lord Stanhope has made executor ?"- 
 " No ! Your brother ? " " No, there would have been 
 nothing in that. The very worst imaginable." "Oh, 
 then it is Buonaparte." " No, guess again." " George 
 Dyer?" "You are right. Lord Stanhope was clearly 
 insane!" Dyer was one of six executors. Charles James 
 Fox was another. The executors were also residuary 
 legatees. Dyer was one of the first to declare that he 
 rejected the legacy and renounced the executorship.
 
 In London. 
 
 But the heir insisted on granting him a small annuity ; 
 his friends having before settled another on him, he was 
 comparatively wealthy in his old age. Not many years 
 before his death, he married his laundress, by the advice 
 of his friends a very worthy woman. He said to me 
 once, "Mrs. Dyer is a woman of excellent natural sense, 
 but she is not literate." That is, she could neither read 
 nor write. Dyer was blind for a few years before his 
 death. I used occasionally to go on a Sunday morning 
 to read to him. At other times a poor man used to 
 render him that service for sixpence an hour. After he 
 came to London, Dyer lived always in some very humble 
 chambers in Clifford's Inn, Fleet Street. 
 
 Another interesting acquaintance I made at this 
 period was with William Hazlitt a man who has left a 
 deservedly high reputation as a critic ; but at the time I 
 first knew him he was struggling against a great 
 difficulty of expression, which rendered him by no 
 means a general favourite in society. His bashfulness, 
 want of words, slovenliness of dress, &c., made him 
 sometimes the object of ridicule. It will be better, 
 perhaps, if I confine myself at present to describing 
 him as he was at this early period of our acquaintance. 
 He was the younger brother of John Hazlitt, the minia- 
 ture painter. His first design was to be a Dissenting 
 minister ; and for that purpose he went to the Unitarian 
 New College, Hackney. He afterwards thought of 
 becoming a painter, and lived with his brother. At our 
 first interview I saw he was an extraordinary man. He 
 had few friends, and was flattered by my attentions. 
 We were about the same age, and I was able to render 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799. 
 
 William 
 Hazlitt.
 
 6 4 
 
 Unsettled Life in London. 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 
 1799. 
 
 Dr. Geddes. 
 
 him a service by introducing him to Anthony Robinson, 
 who induced Johnson to publish Hazlitt's first work, 
 " The Eloquence of the British Senate." Late in life, 
 when our intimacy had been broken off, he said to Mary 
 Lamb, " Robinson cuts me, but I shall never cease to 
 have a regard for him, for he was the first person who 
 ever found out that there was anything in me." I was 
 alone in this opinion at the time of which I am speak- 
 ing. I recollect saying to my sister-in-law, "Whom 
 do you suppose I hold to be the cleverest person 
 I know ? " " Capel Lofft, perhaps ? " " No." " Mrs. 
 Clarkson ? " " Oh ! no."" Miss Maling ? " " No."" I 
 give it up." " William Hazlitt." " Oh, you are joking. 
 Why, we all take him to be just the reverse." At this 
 time he was excessively shy, especially in the company 
 of young ladies, who on their part were very apt to 
 make fun of him. The prettiest girl of our parties 
 about this time was a Miss Kitchener, and she used to 
 drive him mad by teasing him. 
 
 I was under great obligations to Hazlitt as the director 
 of my taste. It was he who first made me acquainted 
 with the Lyrical Ballads and the poems generally of 
 Wordsworth, Coleridge, Lamb, and Southey. 
 
 Among those to whom Mary Hays introduced me 
 was the free-thinking, ultra-liberal Roman Catholic 
 priest, Dr. Geddes, translator of the Old Testament, a 
 man of fine person and very amiable manners. His wit 
 was exhibited in macaronic verses. He was a patron of 
 two young ladies, the Miss Plumptres. Anne Plumptres 
 made herself known as one of the first introducers of 
 German plays she translated many of Kotzebue's.
 
 Tour in Wales, 
 
 During this summer my friend Miss Maling was in 
 London, living in the same house with the Archbishop 
 of Aix a man known to history ; he pronounced the 
 oration at the coronation of Louis XVI., and afterwards 
 by the favour of Napoleon obtained a cardinal's hat.* 
 He was a zealous emigrant at this time. Having 
 conceived a great respect for Miss Maling, he had 
 destined for her the post of Lectrice to the Duchess 
 of Orleans, had the Revolution succeeded, which was 
 projected this year. He was a man of letters and a 
 poet. I had the honour of an introduction to him, but 
 a mere introduction. I had only time to admire his 
 majestic figure. His preaching I thought magnificent. 
 
 I made in this year a pedestrian tour in Wales. On 
 my way I visited Stonehenge the first place I ever 
 went to see as an object of curiosity ; and I had all the 
 enjoyment that was to be derived from so novel and 
 so sublime a scene. This tour, of which I shall write 
 little, afforded me the opportunity of visiting two men, 
 who suffered for political opinions- Gilbert Wakefield 
 and John Thelwall ; the former was in prison at 
 Dorchester. A subscription of ^"3,000 had been raised 
 by his friends, who were thereby enabled to supply Mrs. 
 Wakefield with a very comfortable house in the vicinity 
 of the prison. Here she and the children dwelt, and a 
 spare room was always ready for some friendly visitor. 
 During Wakefield's imprisonment this room was almost 
 always in use. I occupied it several days, and found 
 
 * On the copy of a letter by the Archbishop, Mr. Robinson has written : 
 "Afterwards Cardinal Boisgelin, an emigrant nobleman who made his peace 
 with Buonaparte, and had his due reward in a cardinal's hat for preaching a 
 sermon on the Emperor's marriage." 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799. 
 
 Gilbert 
 Wakefield 
 in prison.
 
 66 
 
 Tour in Wales. 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799. 
 
 John Thel- 
 
 wall. 
 
 him suffering more in his spirits than was expected. 
 The distress he witnessed in gaol, and the presence of 
 physical and moral evil, preyed on his mind and seemed 
 to crush him.* 
 
 John Thelwall, to whom I have already alluded, as 
 having had a narrow escape of conviction for high 
 treason, had settled down in a farm in a beautiful place 
 near Brecon. His history is known to all who care to 
 inform themselves of the personal occurrences of this 
 eventful period. He had left his shop (that of a silk 
 mercer) to be one of the Reformers of the age. 
 After his acquittal he went about the country lecturing, 
 and was exposed to great varieties of fortune. Some- 
 times he was attended by numerous admirers, but more 
 frequently hooted and pelted by the mob. In order to 
 escape prosecution for sedition he took as his subject 
 Greek and Roman History, and had ingenuity enough 
 to give such a colouring to events and characters as to 
 render the application to living persons and present 
 events an exciting mental exercise. I had heard one 
 or two of these lectures, and thought very differently 
 of him then from what I thought afterwards. When, 
 however, he found his popularity on the wane, and more 
 stringent laws had been passed, to which he individually 
 gave occasion, he came to the prudent resolution of 
 abandoning his vagrant habits and leading a domestic 
 life in the country. It was at this period that my visit 
 was paid, and I received a most cordial welcome. His 
 wife was a very pleasing woman, a great admirer of her 
 husband never a reproach to a wife, though the kind 
 
 * He was released from prison May 30, 1801, and died on the gth of 
 September in the same year.
 
 Robert Hall. 
 
 67 
 
 of husband she has chosen may sometimes be so. But 
 Thelwall was an amiable man in private life ; an affec- 
 tionate husband, and a fond father. He altogether 
 mistook his talents he told me without reserve that he 
 believed he should establish his name among the epic 
 poets of England ; and it is a curious thing, considering 
 his own views, that he thought the establishment of 
 Christianity and the British Constitution very appro- 
 priate subjects for his poem. 
 
 After a stay of a week, I left my friends with a strong 
 sense of their personal kindness. I may add here that 
 when farming had succeeded as ill as political agitation, 
 he took to the teaching of oratory as a profession, and 
 for a time succeeded in it. For some years he had 
 an establishment in Upper Bedford Place, where he 
 received boarders. But gradually his didactic talents 
 were directed more especially to the correction of defects 
 arising from the malformation of the organs of speech. 
 
 At Haverfordwest an unexpected pleasure awaited 
 me. I fell in with Robert Hall. He received me with 
 apparent pleasure, and was kind without being flatter- 
 ing. His countenance indicated a powerful intellect 
 and strong sensibility. In disputation he expressed 
 himself with his characteristic point, and sometimes 
 with virulence. He spoke of my sister-in-law with 
 unusual seriousness, and said she was the most extra- 
 ordinary instance he had ever known of a woman of 
 superior talents preserving universal respect ; abilities 
 being so rare among women, and when found so rarely 
 accompanied by amiable qualities. The only allusion 
 he made to our correspondence was by saying of one 
 
 F 2 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 1799. 
 
 Robert 
 Hall.
 
 68 
 
 Tour in Wales. 
 
 CHAP. iv. 
 *799- 
 
 The Father 
 and mother 
 
 of the 
 Hazlitts. 
 
 H. C. R's. 
 
 mother's 
 grave. 
 
 who thought himself ill treated, "He ought at once to 
 have come forward, and in a manly way, as you did, 
 have made his complaint." 
 
 In passing though Wem in Shropshire I saw a very 
 worthy old Presbyterian minister not worse than an 
 Arian I presume the father of the Hazlitts. William, 
 who had become my friend, was not there, but John, the 
 miniature painter, was.* I liked the good old man and 
 his wife, who had all the solidity (I do not mean 
 stolidity) and sober earnestness of the more respectable 
 Noncons. There was also a maiden sister. Altogether 
 an amusing and agreeable group in my memory. 
 
 On my return from Wales I took Bath in my way. 
 Seven years had elapsed since I attended my mother in 
 her last illness, and my desire to see the place of her 
 interment was increased by something Mrs. Fenner had 
 related to me. My mother had expressed pain at being 
 buried at so great a distance from her children. She 
 feared they would never see her grave. " But," she 
 added, " I have no doubt Henry will come though he 
 walk." I did not need this stimulus, for my mother was 
 the sole object of my fondness as a child. It was a 
 substantial gratification to me to find my mother's 
 grave in one of the most beautifully situated church- 
 yards I ever saw a long slip of land near Whitcomb 
 Church. I have often visited it since, and always with a 
 sort of pleasure, f 
 
 * An interesting, but weakly painted portrait of Joseph Lancaster by John 
 Hazlitt is in the National Portrait Gallery. It is in oil, the size of life, and 
 evidently the production of an artist accustomed to work on a smaller scale 
 with different materials. G. S. 
 
 f This part of the Reminiscences was written in 1845 and 1846.
 
 Germany. 
 
 69 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 GERMANY. l8oO AND l8oi. 
 
 I AM now come to an incident, which had a great 
 influence on my tastes and feelings, and therefore, I 
 have no doubt, on my character. In the course of this 
 year I went to Germany, where I remained more than 
 five years, and pursued something like study, and where 
 J was brought into contact with some of the most 
 distinguished men of the age. 
 
 Mr. Aldebert, a German merchant with whom I had 
 become acquainted, undertook to convoy me as far as 
 Frankfort. The journey, which now may be accom- 
 plished easily and in a very short time, was com- 
 paratively formidable at the beginning of this century. 
 We embarked at Yarmouth, on the 3rd of April, and 
 on Friday evening I beheld that dismal fortress Heli- 
 goland, a scene which in my imagination might be 
 appropriately connected with Goethe's "Natiirliche 
 Tochter." On the morning of the 6th we landed at 
 Cuxhaven, and proceeded by land to Hamburg. I have 
 still a clear recollection of the flat, cold, colourless 
 country, which an instinctive feeling had led the in- 
 habitants to make as lively as possible by the bright 
 green on the scattered houses. 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS BROTHER T. R. 
 We remained twelve days at the Kaiserhof, where we 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1800. 
 
 Heligoland. 
 
 Hamburg.
 
 Germany. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1800. 
 
 Hamburg. 
 
 paid *js. a day for a dirty room on a second floor, 43. to 
 the man who waited on us at the hotel and attended us 
 in the town, and is. ^d. for breakfast ; in short, where, 
 though we lived in the plainest and most economical 
 style, our daily bill was nearly a guinea apiece. We 
 then removed to private lodgings, where the civility and 
 honesty of the good family reminded us of the family 
 
 of Lot. 
 
 ******* 
 
 The houses at Hamburg perpetually suggest the 
 idea that you are looking at England as it was a 
 century ago. The original model of a farm-house 
 (and farm-houses were the primitive houses) as I have 
 seen it in the wild parts of Hanover, is that of one 
 immense room, without chimney or division the 
 various parts being allotted, as a farmer lays out his 
 different seeds or fruits. At one corner the fire here 
 the beds there the piggery there some furniture and 
 a good carriage-way all through. Now the progress of 
 refinement is this: after a time the sides are separated 
 (like the King's Bench and Common Pleas in West- 
 minster Hall), glazed, and adorned, for the women and 
 children but still the centre is unpaved. I have seen 
 several respectable houses of this kind in the country 
 near Hamburg. Refinement increases, but still the old 
 hall remains as in ancient English mansions. Perhaps 
 we have gone beyond the exact mark of propriety 
 through our proud love of retirement, and by converting 
 our halls into narrow passages and large parlours, have 
 injured our houses as summer retreats and promoted 
 the natural shyness of our tempers. In the houses near
 
 Hamburg. 
 
 Hamburg the genteelest families dine or drink coffee in 
 their halls, and with the doors open to observation and 
 curiosity. In the town, too, most of the houses have the 
 narrow or gable end in front, which necessarily precludes 
 the elegant uniformity of a Bath street, but at the 
 same time allows of an infinite variety of ornament, 
 which gives an idea of distinctiveness, and is, I think, 
 an advantage. As the stories rise, the curtain, if it may 
 be so called, is narrowed till it terminates in a pyramid. 
 There is, it must be confessed, a great waste of room in 
 the lofty halls and shops which you see in the front of 
 the Hamburg houses. But perhaps it is more pleasing 
 to witness resources and means of future improvements, 
 as necessities may arise, than to behold, as in London, 
 every inch occupied, and management and economy put 
 to their last shifts. The dress of the lower classes 
 confirms the suggestion that Germany is now what 
 England was. Many a poor woman wears a tight black 
 velvet bonnet like that in which Mary Queen of Scots 
 is painted. The Lutheran clergy appear to wear the 
 cast-off ruffs of Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 After remaining a few weeks at Hamburg, we pro- 
 ceeded to Frankfort, where Mr. Aldebert procured me 
 lodgings near his own house, and introduced me to his 
 relations and partners. I set about reading as hard as 
 I could, dining at the various hotels in the city, which 
 were famed for their excellence. My first object was to 
 acquire a knowledge of the German language, and I 
 took lessons of an old man named Peile, who confided 
 to me that he had been when young a member of the 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1800. 
 
 Frankfort.
 
 Germany. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1800. 
 
 The French 
 
 Illuminati, an order of which he gave me a better 
 opinion than I previously had, both in regard to their 
 intentions and their practical ability. 
 
 Frankfort was then a fortified town, much to its 
 disadvantage in regard to air and comfort, and without 
 any adequate compensation, for the fortification was 
 next to useless. Now, in the place of the walls and 
 ditches, there are beautiful walks which render the place 
 as agreeable as it was formerly dismal. Though 
 professedly neutral, its neutrality was violated on the 
 6th of July. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 I believe were a cracker or squib to be let off in any 
 town in Great Britain, and were it thought to come from 
 a French hand, half the old women would be in fits. 
 Now, I had so much of the old woman in me that one 
 day when I was sleeping over my German grammar, and 
 the maid burst into the room, crying " The French are 
 at the gates," I made but two skips down stairs, and flew 
 into the principal street. It was a false alarm, but I 
 found all in confusion a body of Mayengois troops had 
 demanded entrance, and were then on their march to 
 support their allies, whom the French were attacking a 
 few miles off. They had cannon, with lighted matches. 
 The men were fine fellows, and without being sad were 
 grave. I knew they were going into the field, and I 
 felt that sinking within the breast which betrays the 
 coward- but they passed away and my sinking too. 
 The rest of the day nothing was known. On the 
 morrow we learnt that the French had been thrice
 
 Frankfort. 
 
 beaten back, but that early in the morning they had 
 renewed the attack, and were now in the midst of the 
 engagement. I left my books, and hastened to the ram- 
 parts, which were covered with idlers. Couriers passed 
 backwards and forwards, but nobody knew what was 
 going forward. Citizens are mob, and soldiers are gen- 
 tlemen at such times ; and Sterne's remark concerning 
 Susanna and the women at a groaning might be parodied 
 here. Our curiosity was not left, however, to starve for 
 want of nourishment ; every now and then a waggon 
 slowly entered the town, and though covered with 
 straw or cloth, we generally could perceive something 
 moving underneath it was only a wounded man 
 nothing more ! By and by I ventured, with the 
 doctor of the house, to make an excursion. We walked 
 up a hill, and were near enough to hear the discharge 
 of musketry, and see the smoke and flash of the 
 cannons, but that was all. And I was half angry with 
 myself for being so composed. It was probable that 
 every instant some horrid wound was inflicted, or some 
 wretch suddenly carried off, and yet I ate cherries ! 
 And how could it be otherwise ? We are sympathetic ; 
 and indifference, or the want of passion, is catching as 
 well as passion itself. The persons around me were at 
 their ease, and that made me so in a great degree. I 
 cannot forbear to make a remark, which though simple 
 is important. From the modern system of war and 
 politics, by which the civil and the military state are 
 so much separated, and the subject is so much distin- 
 guished from the prince, this consequence has arisen 
 that war has ceased to be a matter of national passion, 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1800.
 
 74 
 
 Germany. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1800. 
 
 Sophia de la 
 Roche. 
 
 and has become in a great degree a professional busi- 
 ness. At least in this neighbourhood it is so. 
 
 Next day in the evening the French actually came, 
 and I, standing on the walls, witnessed their entrance. 
 The general indifference at the event confounded me ; 
 but it was in reality an affair of money. They came 
 not as an enemy. The soldiers were billeted in the 
 town ; and a gentlemanly young officer was in the 
 house in which I lodged. With him I soon became 
 acquainted. He loved poetry, and we talked on various 
 subjects. Nor did he take any exception to my being 
 an Englishman. At this moment the war was flagging. 
 
 Of those to whom I was introduced, there is one of 
 whom it is necessary that I should write a few words. 
 This was Sophia de la Roche, a sentimental novelist, 
 and in her youth a friend of Wieland, under whose 
 auspices she became known as an authoress. Her 
 daughter married Brentano, a wealthy merchant, who 
 died young ; and among her grandchildren were several 
 with whom I had much to do during my residence in 
 Germany. She herself was never tired of talking of 
 England, of which she was a passionate admirer. An 
 amusing account of her is given in Madame d'Arblay's 
 Memoirs.* In extravagant language she poured out to 
 me her love of this country,- declaring- that on her 
 death-bed she should thank God for her journey hither, 
 and expressing the wish that she could offer up her soul 
 to God in Richmond vale ! 
 
 My journal mentions a circumstance worth recording 
 
 Diary and Letters of Madame d'Arblay. Sept. 1786. Vol. III. p. 136.
 
 Frankfort. 
 
 75 
 
 in connection with the drama in the wealthy city of 
 Frankfort. I saw the play of " Hamlet" performed by 
 actors of repute ; but the catastrophe was changed. 
 As Hamlet is about to drink the poison the Queen's 
 illness is perceived his hand is stayed he rushes on 
 the King and slays him he is attacked thunder is 
 heard the Queen confesses he forgives Laertes and 
 all's well that ends well. This I have told to Germans, 
 who have wished to deny the fact. 
 
 In July I wrote to my brother "My last letter told 
 you that I had ceased to be a traveller. The effect 
 produced on the mind by the knowledge that you are 
 but the inhabitant of a day is really astonishing. It 
 quickens the observation and animates the spirits 
 exceedingly. While I was on my journey nothing 
 escaped me. It was a second childhood. I was once 
 more gay, impetuous, inquisitive, and adventurous ; but 
 as soon as I had fixed myself I became the same dull, 
 phlegmatic, and sometimes hyppish soul, which I was 
 often in my lodgings in London. I am now so 
 domesticated, so reconciled to the slight varieties of 
 manners, that nothing but the language reminds me 
 I am out of Old England." 
 
 In September I give this account of my life at 
 Frankfort : 
 
 " I breakfast at half-past seven, and dine at twelve 
 then I go to a reading society, where I meet with a 
 profusion of German magazines (which are something 
 between the English magazines and periodical essay- 
 ists), the Moniteur and French journals, and the 
 English Clironicle. This is an agreeable addition to 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1800. 
 Hamlet.
 
 7 6 
 
 Germany. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 j8oo. 
 
 Frankfort 
 life. 
 
 Waltzing, 
 
 what my sister properly calls ' my comforts/ and is 
 my after-dinner dessert. Three times a week I go to 
 a respectable old gentleman who corrects my transla- 
 tions into German, and from him I try to get an idea 
 of German literature. It is, however, too soon to talk 
 about it. I take solitary walks about the town, which 
 are pleasant, and generally on the Sunday accompany 
 some friends to one of the neighbouring villages, 
 where we drink coffee or wine. This is the universal 
 custom, and I do not dislike it. These little parties 
 are not expensive. The company is very mixed, and 
 there is often music and dancing but the dancing 
 is unlike anything you ever saw. You must have 
 heard of it under the name of waltzing that is, 
 rolling or turning, though the rolling is not horizontal 
 but perpendicular. Yet Werter, after describing his 
 first waltz with Charlotte, says and I say so too ' I 
 felt that if I were married, my wife should waltz (of 
 roll) with no one but myself.' Judge the man 
 places the palms of his hands - gently against the 
 sides of his partner, not far from the arm-pits. His 
 partner does the same, and instantly with as much 
 velocity as possible they turn round and at the same 
 time gradually glide round the room. Now, as Sir Isaac 
 Newton borrowed his notion of attraction from an apple 
 falling, why might not Copernicus, who was a German,* 
 conceive his theory of the twofold motion of the earth 
 from a waltz, where both parties with great rapidity 
 themselves turn round and yet make the circuit of the 
 room ?" 
 
 * Copernicus was a Pole.
 
 Excursion, 
 
 77 
 
 It was my habit to make occasional excursions when 
 I found a suitable companion. On one of these oc- 
 casions, when Mrs. Aldebert was following her husband 
 to England, I accompanied her to the gates of Castel, 
 a suburb of Mainz, and was left without a passport. 
 
 At the inn at Hochheim I found three French 
 officers. I was startled, but as there was an armistice 
 (it was the i6th of August) I thought frankness the 
 safest policy. I joined them at the dinner-table. " A 
 hot day, sir." " Yes, sir." (N.B. The French, like 
 the Quakers, do not like to be called " Citizen " but by 
 a citizen, though, unlike the brethren, they preserve 
 the old forms of civility, and use " Sir " as much as 
 formerly to strangers.) I immediately told of my 
 ride from Frankfort, of my friends who were at Mainz, 
 and of my incapacity to follow them. " It is morti- 
 fying," said I, "to see a fine town and rich country 
 shut against one." " Yes, to be sure ; but it is not 
 difficult to get a pass. You are a German ? " " No." 
 " Pray what countryman are you, then ?" " Can I 
 answer with safety ? If, now, I should be an unlucky 
 enemy by birth, are you bound officially to arrest 
 me ? " " Oh, no ! " said they, and laughed ; and I 
 found that the Englishman was very welcome. So I 
 stayed several hours with them, and debated on politics. 
 I found in these and several other officers more respect 
 than I should have expected for Mr. Pitt, who indi- 
 vidually is fancied to be all in all in the Cabinet ; they 
 had a warm zeal for France as France, without much 
 care about its immediate government. 
 
 This spirit of patriotism unquestionably saved the 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1800. 
 
 The French.
 
 Wiesbaden. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1800. 
 
 Wiesbaden. 
 
 nation. Could Mr. Burke have persuaded the people 
 of France that "France was out of itself," the affair 
 would have been over. And the Revolution owed its 
 success to the early creation of a power which the 
 people looked up to as its head. The first Assembly, 
 by calling itself the National, gained the nation by 
 the word. 
 
 In the progress of familiarity I begged the officers 
 to tell me how I stood as to personal safety. They 
 said unquestionably liable to be arrested every moment, 
 but not in any great danger ; there were parties on 
 the scout to pick up deserters and examine travellers. 
 Being on foot I should likely enough be considered 
 a native, but if questioned, as I had no passport, I 
 should certainly be taken before the Commandant 
 at Mainz, and they did not advise my going farther. 
 
 I did not however take alarm, and went on to the 
 little town of Biebrich, the residence of the Prince of 
 Nassau. Here I was very civilly treated at the only 
 inn in the place. Next day I made a circuitous walk 
 back, taking in my way Wiesbaden, a small neat 
 dull curious old German town, famous only for its hot 
 spring. It is noteworthy that this has become one of 
 the most fashionable watering-places in Germany, much 
 frequented by English guests, with elegant gambling- 
 houses which have been a source of great wealth to the 
 Prince. 
 
 The following letters will give some idea of the 
 condition of England at the close of the eighteenth 
 century :
 
 Condition of England. 
 
 79 
 
 T. R. TO H. C. R. 
 
 Bury, Dec. i8t/i, 1800. 
 
 I cannot forbear speaking a word or two on the situa- 
 tion of our own country. You cannot be aware, I think, 
 to the extent in which it exists, of the distress of all 
 orders of people amongst us on account of the high 
 price of provisions. The poor-rates have risen to an 
 unexampled height they have nearly doubled since 
 you left England. The present rate at Bury for the 
 quarter is seven shillings in the pound, upon an assess- 
 ment of two-thirds of the rental in short, as much is 
 paid to the poor as to the landlord. At the commence- 
 ment of the war the rate with us was not more than 
 is. <^d. or 2s. in the pound. The burden which the cir- 
 cumstances have laid upon the people will, I imagine, be 
 scarcely credited in Germany, and yet the situation of 
 Bury is much less lamentable than that of many other 
 towns in the kingdom. The alarm respecting a scarcity 
 is so great that Parliament is now assembled by special 
 proclamation to take into consideration the best means 
 of relieving the nation in the present dearth. High 
 bounties are accordingly offered to encourage the im- 
 portation of grain, and various plans of economy are 
 recommended to diminish the consumption of bread. 
 The causes of the distressed state of the country are a 
 subject of controversy both within and out of Parlia- 
 ment. The Administration are, of course, very strenuous 
 in maintaining that the war has no share in it, while the 
 Opposition as loudly attempt to prove it is the principal 
 cause. The seasons have unquestionably been very un- 
 favourable. But besides these palpable reasons an idea 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1800. 
 
 Distress in 
 England.
 
 8o 
 
 Letter from T. R. on 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1800. 
 
 has been set afloat, and very eagerly caught at by vast 
 numbers of people, that the scarcity is to be chiefly 
 attributed to monopoly. As a disciple of Adam Smith, 
 you will probably recollect his sentiments on the subject. 
 He compares the dread of monopoly, when a free trade 
 is allowed in so bulky a commodity as corn, to the terror 
 of witchcraft. This opinion, it is understood, has been 
 adopted by our leading statesmen, both on the Minis- 
 terial and Opposition side. And so much has this 
 opinion prevailed till of late, that I understand the old 
 statute laws relating to forestalling, regrating, &c., were 
 some few years since repealed. The common law, 
 however, still remaining in force, a prosecution grounded 
 upon it was a few months since commenced against 
 Waddington, a great hop merchant, for monopoly, and 
 another against a contractor for regrating. On one of 
 their trials Lord Kenyon combated the doctrine of 
 Adam Smith ; and on the defendant being convicted, 
 warmly applauded the jury for their verdict, and said 
 the country was much indebted to them. He was 
 followed in this opinion by the greater part of the 
 judges, who, on the ensuing circuit, declaimed against 
 those hard-hearted persons who made a prey of their 
 fellow-creatures by withholding from them the neces- 
 saries of life, and strongly urged the magistrates to be 
 vigilant to prevent the markets being forestalled. In 
 consequence of this recommendation associations were 
 formed in almost every county to carry it into effect. 
 
 Owing to these proceedings a violent clamour was 
 excited against corn-dealers and farmers, which being 
 joined in by the mob, artificial scarcity became the cry.
 
 77/6- Condition of England. 
 
 81 
 
 Farmers were threatened, and their barns and ricks in 
 many places were set on fire ; this has been particularly 
 the case in the neighbourhood of Becking, where several 
 wilful conflagrations have taken place 
 
 Jan. 2jth, 1 80 1. 
 
 The times continue excessively hard 
 
 with us indeed the cloud of evil seems to threaten more 
 and more every day. Corn rises every market-day, and 
 indeed alarm is spreading in all directions, and not least 
 among the friends of the administration. I wish not to 
 dwell upon political topics, but distress has brought 
 them home to everybody's bosom, and they now pro- 
 duce all the interest of domestic incidents. With the 
 Funds falling, and trade very precarious, Mary and I 
 sometimes talk of emigration but where to go is the 
 question. France is the only country which to my 
 mind presents any temptation. The language, however, 
 is an insuperable objection. Buonaparte seems as if he 
 would make the assumed title of great nation a valid 
 claim, and I fear it is as clear that the sun of England's 
 glory is set. Indeed I am become quite an alarmist, 
 which I believe is equally the case with the democrat 
 and the aristocrat. Such is the state of the country in 
 the prime article of life flour, that the millers are 
 prohibited under very heavy penalties from making any 
 but coarse flour, and instead of any restraint being laid 
 upon them against mixing of grains, encouragement is 
 given them to do it. Speaking on the state of the 
 country the other day to Garnham he exclaimed, 
 " A very pretty state we are reduced to our pockets 
 VOL. I. G 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1800.
 
 82 
 
 Letter from 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Home 
 Tooke, 
 
 Cooke the 
 Actor. 
 
 filled with paper and our bellies rilled with chicken's 
 meat ! " 
 
 Mar. 9//z, 1801. 
 
 If you have noticed in the papers 
 
 you are no doubt interested in the circumstances of 
 Home Tooke having obtained a seat in the House of 
 Commons as representative of the famous borough of 
 Old Sarum. This he effected through the patronage 
 of the eccentric Lord Camelford. A very interesting 
 debate is expected to-morrow on a motion of Lord 
 Temple to inquire into the eligibility of a priest to a 
 seat in Parliament. Lord Camelford, it is said, told 
 Lord Grenville that if the black coat were rejected he 
 would send a black man, referring to a negro servant -of 
 his, born in England, whom he would qualify to take a 
 seat. 
 
 When we were in London Mary and 
 
 I had lodgings in Newgate Street. The theatre was 
 the only amusement which interested me. We were, of 
 course, desirous of seeing the present nine days' wonder, 
 Mr. Cooke. We were so lucky as to see him in Richard, 
 his favourite character. Nature has assisted him greatly 
 in the performance of this part his features being 
 strongly marked and his voice harsh, I felt at the time 
 that he personated the ferocious tyrant better than 
 Kemble could have done. There is besides -a sort of 
 humour in his manner of acting which appeared very 
 appropriate, and which I think Kemble could not have 
 given ; and I think it likely the latter would be sur- 
 passed in Shylock. Cooke's powers of expression are 
 strong and coarse. I am persuaded that in dignified
 
 Baron Hohenfels. 
 
 and refined character in the philosophical hero he 
 would fall infinitely short of Kemble. He had the 
 effrontery to play the Stranger, but, if I mistake not, he 
 appeared in it but once 
 
 Early in 1801 I became acquainted with a very 
 interesting and remarkable person Baron Hohenfels, 
 the Dom-dechant von Speyer. He had a somewhat 
 quixotic figure tall and gaunt, with marked features. 
 Though careless about his dress he had a distinguished 
 gait. He was an elderly man who had been for many 
 years chancellor of the Elector of Treves, and as such, 
 had he continued in office, would have been the 
 Elector's successor. He was also, as he used to tell 
 me, a bishop in partibus. But he was a very liberal 
 and philosophic churchman, and preferred a life of 
 literary leisure. He had been in England, to which he 
 was warmly attached, and had a strong liking for 
 Austria. Everything French and Prussian he hated 
 in an equal degree. To the Austrian State and the 
 Romish Church he was attached politically. He was 
 living an idle life, and in order therefore to gratify 
 as well his indolence as his taste for everything 
 English he loved our poets* not less than our poli- 
 ticians he was glad to have even my acquaintance. 
 We frequently walked together, and he taught me 
 much by the questions he was in the habit of putting 
 to me. On one occasion he was very particular in 
 inquiring what the Unitarians believed. What did 
 Priestley believe ? On my mentioning some orthodox 
 doctrines rejected, he asked "Did Priestley believe the 
 
 G 2 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 Baron 
 Hohenfels.
 
 84 
 
 B.aron Hohenfels. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Charlotte 
 
 and 
 
 Paulina 
 Servicre. 
 
 resurrection ?" "Yes." On this, with a very significant 
 expression, he said, " This reminds me of an anecdote 
 of Ninon de 1'Enclos. Being asked one day by a 
 Parisian lady, whether she believed that St. Denys 
 walked all the way to Paris with his head under his 
 arm, ' Pourquoi pas, Mademoiselle?' Ninon said; 'ce 
 n'est que le premier pas qui coute.'" 
 
 The Baron was more fond of asking than of answer- 
 ing questions ; but when I pressed him, he did not 
 shrink from a reply, which, without compromising 
 himself, seemed to me intelligible. I had before drawn 
 from him the remark that Christianity is a great fact 
 that the fact being admitted it allowed neither of 
 criticism nor of argument ; and now in reference to 
 the claims of Roman Catholicism I asked whether the 
 evidence of the later miracles was as strong as that 
 of the earlier. His answer was again in the form of 
 
 an anecdote : " In the time of Pope there were 
 
 some saints who were called the new saints. On one 
 occasion his Holiness exclaimed, 'These new saints 
 make me doubt the old.' You will excuse my not 
 giving a more direct reply." I ought to add that some 
 years afterwards, when the Baron died, he left all his 
 property to the Roman Catholic church at Frank- 
 fort. 
 
 I had not known this interesting man many days 
 before he said he would introduce me to two young 
 ladies " qui petillaient d 'esprit? These were Charlotte 
 and Paulina Serviere. They were persons of small for- 
 tune and carried on a little business, but lived on terms 
 of intimacy with one of the most distinguished families
 
 The Brcntano Family. 
 
 in Frankfort that of Brentano. Charlotte Serviere 
 was not handsome, but was attractive to me by singular 
 good sense and sweetness of disposition, though the 
 latter quality was generally assigned in a higher degree 
 to the younger sister, Paulina, who was a joyous, kind 
 creature, naive, sportive, voluble liked by every one. 
 In their house I became intimate, and there I soon 
 saw the ladies of the Brentano family to whom I was 
 introduced on the very same day by Mad. de la Roche. 
 By them also I was received as a friend. Mad. 
 Brentano, a beautiful Viennese, the eldest daughter 
 Kunigunda afterwards the wife of Savigny, the great 
 Prussian lawyer and statesman were my present com- 
 panions. They proposed that I should read English 
 to them, and that they should initiate me into German 
 poetry, in other words into Goethe, with whom they 
 were personally acquainted, and of whom they were 
 all devoted worshippers. During the first four months 
 of 1 80 1 I made considerable progress in the study 
 of Goethe, and imbibed a taste for German poetry 
 and literature, which I have always retained. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Goethe is the idol of the German literary public. 
 The critics of the new school assert that since the 
 existence of letters there have been only four of those 
 called geniuses, on whom Nature and Art seem to 
 have showered down all their gifts to form that per- 
 fection of intellect a Poet. Virgil, Milton, Wieland, 
 Klopstock, Ariosto, Ossian, Tasso, &c. &c., are singers 
 of various and great excellence, but the sacred poetic 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 The 
 Brentanos.
 
 86 
 
 The Brentano Family. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Clemens 
 Brentano, 
 
 fire has been possessed in its perfection only by 
 Homer, Cervantes, Shakespeare, and Goethe. Nay, 
 some of this new school have even asserted that the 
 three great " tendencies " of the late century are the 
 French Revolution, the Fichtian Philosophy and " Wil- 
 helm Meister's Lehrjahre." 
 
 This valuable addition to my acquaintance had been 
 made only a few days, when it was increased by that 
 of the brother, Clemens Brentano, then known only 
 by irregular ballads and songs inserted in a very 
 irregular novel, but a poet in character, as that 
 term is generally understood, and a man of genius, 
 though not an artist ; and after many years the 
 author of fairy tales which brought him eclat. He was 
 on terms of intimacy with the Schlegels, Tieck, and 
 others of the romantic school ; but on account of 
 peculiarities of temperament was rather difficult to 
 get on with. As I -shall have little to say of him 
 hereafter, I may add that he married a poetess named 
 Sophie Mereau, who however died after a short time. 
 Late in life he took a religious turn, and published a 
 strange book, professedly relating from the lips of a 
 diseased nun her visions of the sufferings of Christ ; 
 but the Bishop of Ratisbon, Seiler, would not allow the 
 work to be printed without being accompanied by the 
 declaration that the visions were given as the pious 
 contemplations of a good woman, and not as preter- 
 natural revelations. 
 
 Personally I had more to do with a younger brother, 
 whose education was unfinished, and who, learning that
 
 Journey to Wetzlar. 
 
 I was unsettled, proposed that I should accompany him 
 on foot into Saxony, where I could go on with my 
 study, while he completed his. In my entirely isolated 
 state an offer much less agreeable than this would have 
 been acceptable. I should visit a country which I 
 longed to see. Several months however elapsed before 
 our plan was carried into effect. In the meanwhile 
 I pursued my studies with something like system ; 
 devoting myself steadily to German poetry and philo- 
 sophy. All my vacant time was spent either with 
 the Servieres or the Brentanos. The manners of this 
 little society were very free and easy ; and my cha- 
 racter as an Englishman contributed to my being 
 treated as a pet. 
 
 Before my departure I made a short journey with 
 Herr Mylius and his sister Mad. Kohl to Wetzlar, 
 a town of some importance because, under the old 
 German constitution, it was the seat of a court of 
 appeal from courts held in all the small states of Ger- 
 many ; in other respects an insignificant place. The 
 noblesse of this old-fashioned " free city " were the 
 big-wigs, the lawyers. Our journey lay through a 
 pleasing country, and this three-days excursion made 
 me acquainted with the simple manners of a people 
 who seemed to belong to a former age. The tribunal 
 has been abolished, and the town no doubt lost its 
 privileges as a free city. 
 
 My tour with Christian Brentano began on the I4th 
 of June. Our first object was to see his brother 
 Clemens, who was then residing at Gottingen. I will 
 not stop to give particulars of any of the places 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 Christian 
 Brentano. 
 
 Wetzlar. 
 
 Gut tin gen.
 
 88 
 
 Gbttingen. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 Winckel- 
 mann. 
 
 Harz 
 Mountains. 
 
 through which we passed. On our arrival I was re- 
 ceived with kindness, and introduced to Clemens 
 Brentano's friends. Of these the principal was a 
 young man of great promise a poet and scholar. 
 He lectured on poetry, and strengthened the interest 
 I already felt in German philosophy and literature. 
 His name was Winckelmann. He died a few years 
 later, still a young man. It was he who first dis- 
 tinctly taught me that the new German philosophy 
 in connection with which Fichte was the most cele- 
 brated living teacher, and Schelling was rising into 
 fame was idealism. Winckelmann urged me to study 
 Fichte's " Wissenschaftslehre," which he said was in 
 its elements the philosophy of Plato, Spinoza, and 
 Berkeley. 
 
 These two days, like the preceding weeks, served 
 as a hot-bed to me. In my letter to my brother, I 
 noticed what then was a novelty to me : " I must not 
 forget a curious trait of the new school. They are all 
 poetico-metaphysical religionists. Clemens Brentano 
 declared religion to be 'philosophy taught through 
 mystery.' And the heading of one of Winckelmann's 
 lectures on poetry was, ' the Virgin Mary as the ideal 
 of female beauty and perfection.' " 
 
 Christian Brentano and myself next proceeded to 
 visit the celebrated mine-mountains of the Harz, 
 belonging to Hanover ; and some of our Gottingen 
 friends accompanied us a day on the road. We 
 stayed successively at Osterode and St. Andreasberg. 
 At this place I gratified my curiosity by descending 
 a mine, learning thereby that it is a fatiguing and
 
 Ascent of the Bracken. 
 
 89 
 
 particularly uninstructive and uninteresting spectacle. 
 Generally speaking I know no sight which so ill 
 repays the labour. Two things have fixed themselves 
 on my mind : first, a number of men in narrow slanting 
 passages knocking off bits of soil mixed with metal, 
 and, secondly, the motion of boxes up and down per- 
 petually. I could hardly be angry with the vulgar 
 inscription of an English " my lord " in the album : 
 "Descended this d d old hole." 
 
 We spent a night on the Brocken or Blocksberg, 
 and I ought not to forget when mentioning this famous 
 mountain that it has been from time immemorial the 
 seat of witchcraft ; the witches of the Blocksberg till 
 the present age being the most illustrious in Germany. 
 The historians assign a reasonable cause. The region 
 of the Harz was the very last converted to Christianity, 
 and the heathen religious rites were for the last time 
 performed on the Blocksberg. When the country was 
 at last subdued, troops were stationed in the principal 
 avenues up the mountain to prevent the natives 
 exercising unlawful and ungodly ceremonies. Some 
 of the more zealous, however, disguised themselves 
 in various frightful forms, came at midnight, and 
 frightened away the superstitious soldiery. Since 
 that time the Brocken has been in ballads and old 
 stories the seat of " monsters, hydras, and chimaeras 
 dire." 
 
 Passing over other local matters which afforded me 
 much pleasure, I proceed to that part of my Diary in 
 which I say : We had this day entered the Saxony 
 which Goethe in his " Wilhelm Meister " so significantly 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Ascent of 
 
 the 
 Brocken. 
 
 Saxony.
 
 Grimma. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 Grimma. 
 
 terms den gebildeten aber anch bildlosen Theil von Deutsch- 
 land. We lose the play of words when we render this 
 "the cultivated but imageless part of Germany."* 
 
 While I was staying at Frankfort I seldom ventured 
 to speak German when I was with those who spoke 
 either English or French ; but during this journey I 
 made as it were a spring, and found that I was very 
 well able to make myself understood in the language 
 of the country. 
 
 The place at which Christian Brentano was studying, 
 and at which I was for a time to reside, was Grimma, 
 a small town not very far from Leipzig and on the 
 Mulde a very agreeable residence for a student. It 
 had a large Gymnasium or Prince's school, one of the 
 feeders of the Leipzig University. The mathematical 
 teacher at this school was one Topfer, who received 
 Brentano into his house. The family lived in a very 
 plain way, and I was kindly received by them. 
 
 The chief person in the town was a Mr. Riese, a 
 large manufacturer. I had seen him at Frankfort. He 
 was very attentive to me, and offered me the use of his 
 house ; but I thought lodgings would for the present be 
 
 * Goethe's meaning is not easily understood without the context. The 
 whole sentence is : " Er kam in den gebildeten, aber auch bildlosen Theil von 
 Deutschland, wo es zur Verehrung des Guten und Schonen zwar nicht an 
 Wahrheit, aber oft anGeist gebricht." Carlyle has translated this as follows : 
 ' ' He came into the polished but also barren part of Germany, where, in wor- 
 shipping the good and the beautiful there is indeed no want of truth, but 
 frequently a grievous want of spirit." Bildlos is not much used in modern 
 literature, in fact Grimm knows only this instance from Goethe besides those 
 which he gives from writers of the i6th and ijth centuries. The meaning 
 according to him is imagine carens. Gebildet corresponds with Wahrheit, 
 and bildlos with want of Geist. If so, Goethe meant to say that the Saxons 
 were indeed apt to acquire knowledge from others, but were wanting in 
 original productiveness.
 
 Moravian Establishment. 
 
 preferable. My prospect was a satisfactory one. I had 
 access to Mr. Riese's very respectable library ; such 
 society as the town afforded was open to me, and I 
 should have Brentano as a frequent companion in my 
 walks.* 
 
 Of the two months passed at Grimma at this time, 
 and of the short period I spent there later in the year, 
 when I took up my quarters at the house of Mr. Riese, 
 I will say no more than that I was very happy, and 
 began to read Kant, at the recommendation of Topfer 
 who was a zealous Kantianer. I looked also into the 
 writings of Jacobi. 
 
 In a short tour which I made by myself in order to 
 test my power of finding interest in solitary travel, I 
 availed myself of the opportunity which offered itself 
 of visiting a Moravian establishment at Ebersdorf ; and 
 I had a great deal of pleasure the pleasure of sym- 
 pathizing with a very benevolent and truly Christian 
 society. The day on which I was there was Sunday, 
 and I heard three sermons in one day with less than 
 usual ennui, and was introduced to the well-bred, 
 accomplished presidentess, Fraulein Gerstendorf. With- 
 out attempting to give a detailed account of the con- 
 stitution of these Moravian institutions, I may describe 
 
 * Our tour seems to be insignificant on the map, but, with all our deviations, 
 was not less than sixty German miles, at least 300 English miles. Our expenses 
 together nine guineas ; deducting therefore what I should have paid at Frank- 
 fort, my journey has cost me only two and a half guineas. And when it is 
 considered that we included in our tour one of the most fashionable and famous 
 resident towns, and one of the celebrated districts of Germany, it must be 
 allowed that travelling is for me a cheap pleasure. Thanks to my good health 
 and sound limbs, I hope to see a great part of Germany and France at a 
 trifling expense. H. C. R.'s Journal. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 x8or. 
 
 Moravian 
 Establish- 
 ment.
 
 9 2 
 
 Moravian Establishment. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 The 
 
 Moravians. 
 
 them as a kind of Protestant monasteries. They are 
 distinguished from those of the Roman Catholics by 
 these two striking features : first, there is no compulsion 
 to stay, either openly enforced by the law, or through a 
 vow or secret understanding binding on the conscience. 
 Any one may leave when he pleases. Secondly, there 
 are no idlers all are workers. The unmarried live 
 together, and sleep in two huge apartments. Going 
 through these two vast dormitories I was struck by 
 their perfect cleanliness and sweetness. The married 
 live in apartments by themselves. They have private 
 property, and have few or many comforts according to 
 their respective means. The sermons I heard were 
 evangelical, perhaps Calvinistic ; but in one respect 
 contrasted very advantageously with our English ortho- 
 doxy. Little importance seemed to be attached to 
 doctrine. I heard nothing about belief, but a great 
 deal about love. They had such set phrases as "the 
 love of the Lord," "the faith of the heart." I would 
 add that this is in perfect correspondence with Goethe's 
 confessions of a beautiful soul in "Wilhelm Meister;" 
 and, if the bringing together of things so unlike may be 
 permitted, my own dear mother's written Experience 
 when she was received into the Wattisfield church, in 
 which there is nothing about theological opinions, but 
 much about love, a consciousness of guilt, &c. It 
 occurred to me that this institution seemed to come 
 nearer to an apostolic body than any I had ever seen, 
 and that the Gospel age seems to have had no pre- 
 sentiment of the legal and political establishment of 
 Christianity, but to have contemplated rather a mul-
 
 Chemnitz and Colditz. 
 
 93 
 
 tiplication of brotherhoods resembling these of the 
 Herrnhuter. The founders named their first establish- 
 ment in Moravia Herrnhut, i.e. the Lord's heed or 
 guard.* 
 
 The churchyard, to which the kind-hearted attendant 
 who showed me about the place took me, was very 
 prettily ornamented with shrubs and flowers, and I was 
 much struck by the unfeigned joy with which he talked 
 of death, as, with a childlike simplicity and almost 
 gaiety, he jumped on the grave in which the remains of 
 his wife had been recently laid. Fraulein Gerstendorf 
 was a woman of ability, exemplifying the compatibility 
 of practical wisdom with a devout spirit. 
 
 At Schneeberg I fell in with Anton Wall's "Ama- 
 tonda," a fairy tale which much delighted me.-j- 
 
 At Chemnitz I met with a Welshman, whose history 
 interested me. He was by trade a watchmaker, living 
 at Holywell, where he had great difficulty in supporting 
 his wife and three children ; but he was a mechanic and 
 understood the steam-engine. Graf was then tra- 
 velling for the Elector of Saxony, and made the man an 
 offer of a fair stipend if he would leave his country. 
 " I know," said he, " that if I were to attempt to go 
 back to England, I should be hanged ; but I do not 
 want to go. I am at the head of a manufactory here, 
 and my employer gives me ,200 per annum, besides 
 perquisites. My wife and children are here. Besides, 
 the Elector has given me a bond for ;ioo per annum 
 
 * The Colony settled at the foot of the Hutberg, or pasture-hill. The name 
 has a double meaning Hut signifying "guard" as well as "a place where 
 flocks are guarded." 
 
 t This tale was afterwards translated by Mr. Robinson. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Welshman 
 
 at 
 Chemnitz.
 
 94 
 
 The Lutheran Clergy. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 Parish 
 clergyman 
 at Colditz. 
 
 The Ra- 
 tionalists. 
 
 during my life. The only condition is that I remain 
 in the country. I need do nothing ; I may spend my 
 time in a public-house if I like ; I should still be entitled 
 to my hundred a year." He told me of several persons 
 who were paid for living in the country, with a perfect 
 freedom of action. 
 
 On the day on which I expected to reach Grimma 
 an agreeable incident detained me at Colditz. It was 
 late in the evening when I fell in with a parish clergy- 
 man, who having found that I was what is here called an 
 English Gelehrter, and bound for Grimma, invited me 
 to take a bed at his parsonage. He had a name 
 singularly in contrast with his character Hildebrand ; 
 for he was very liberal in his opinions, and very anti- 
 church in his tastes. We had many hours' talk on 
 subjects equally interesting to him and to me. He 
 gave me an account of the state of religious opinion 
 among the Saxon, i.e. Lutheran, clergy. He professed 
 himself to be a believer in miracles, but evidently had 
 no unfriendly feeling towards the free-thinkers, whom 
 he called Naturalisten, but who are now better known 
 under the name of Rationalists. He declared that 
 their ablest men were Socinians, if not Naturalists. 
 On my saying that Michaelis's " Introduction to the 
 New Testament " had been translated into English, he 
 said, " That work is already forgotten here ; we have 
 a more learned commentary in the work of Paulus." 
 On my inquiring whether the clergy had no tests, 
 " Oh, yes," he replied, " we affirm our belief in the 
 symbolical books ; but we have a very convenient 
 saving-clause 'as far as they are not contradictory to
 
 Falkenstein. 
 
 95 
 
 the word of God.' The fact is, we pay very little at- 
 tention to the old orthodox doctrines, but dare not 
 preach against them. We say nothing about them." 
 This I believe to be true. I recollect relating to my 
 host the retort which Wilkes is said to have made to 
 a Roman Catholic, who had asked, " Where was your 
 religion before Luther?" The answer was, "Where 
 were your hands before you washed them ? " Hilde- 
 brand said that that very retort is to be found in one 
 of the pamphlets published in Germany at the time of 
 the Reformation. 
 
 During my tour I met with a young Saxon noble- 
 man, Herr von Carlowitz, a pupil of the Fiirsten-Schule, 
 who invited me to accompany him to his mother's 
 house. This plan left me so little time at Grimma 
 that I was barely able to write a few letters and show 
 myself to my friends. 
 
 Falkenstein, the seat of young Carlowitz's mother, 
 was only a walk of about four leagues. As we were 
 not expected, we found no one but the servants in the 
 house. In the evening, however, came my lady, with 
 friends, who were staying with her, and I had a spe- 
 cimen of the proverbial stiffness of the Saxon nobility. 
 She was a stately dame, and had but a short time 
 back been beautiful ; she was rich, and was addressed 
 with formal respect by all about her. At night on 
 taking leave every one kissed her hand, excepting 
 myself ; and I omitted the ceremony through my igno- 
 rance, and gave offence. At supper grace was said in 
 verse. 
 
 My intention was to proceed to Dresden and Prague, 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Saxon 
 Nobility. 
 
 Dresden.
 
 9 6 
 
 Dresden. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 Green 
 Vaults. 
 
 Picture- 
 gallery. 
 
 and I reached the former place after two more nights 
 on the way. I was delighted with the coup d'ceil from 
 the bridge, including noble edifices, and the views up 
 and down the river. There was also a stillness which 
 soothed me. I will copy a remark or two I made at 
 the time respecting the impression made on me by 
 Dresden : " One sees more of elegance and the amusing 
 formality of innocent aristocracy, than of the luxury 
 of upstart wealth. One is neither oppressed by great- 
 ness, nor confounded by bustle. Many an Excellency 
 rides in a carriage which in London would be thought 
 a shabby hackney-coach ; and the distinctions of rank 
 are announced by formal appendages, sword, big wig, 
 &c., not costly attire. 
 
 " The most famous of the sights of Dresden is the 
 Grime Gewolbe, or Green Vaults, the most illustrious 
 warehouse of jewellery and other toys in the world. 
 Augustus, the lavish and the strong king of Poland, was 
 the founder of this collection, consisting of all sorts 
 of things wrought in ivory and gold, vessels of every 
 form. I saw these in company with a French lady 
 and her husband. Her raptures rose to something 
 like hysterics. 
 
 " The picture-gallery was the first of great excellence 
 I had ever seen. It contains the picture, which now 
 that I have seen all that Rome and Florence, Naples, 
 Venice and Paris have to exhibit, I still look back 
 upon as the one which has afforded me the highest 
 delight the Madonna di San Sisto, or Vierge aux 
 Anges. When I first saw it, I exclaimed uninten- 
 tionally, ' Looking at this, it is possible to believe
 
 The Saxon Switzerland. 
 
 97 
 
 the Immaculate Conception.' The Roman Catholic 
 custode who was present looked offended, with no 
 reason. I possess a fine copy of Miiller's engraving. 
 There are few pictures for which I would exchange it.* 
 
 " One other source of especial pleasure at Dresden 
 was an almost daily visit to the Catholic chapel, for 
 church music (though I am insensible to ordinary 
 music) I can enjoy." 
 
 I did not omit to make an excursion, occupying 
 a day, to Pillnitz, which has a castle of doubtful or 
 disputed celebrity ; it being still a question whether 
 the treaty which bears the name of Pillnitz was ever 
 entered into among the great powers in 1792 to par- 
 tition France. 
 
 At the distance of a few miles from Dresden is a 
 knot of little valleys, known by the name of the 
 Saxon Switzerland. This district is about fifteen miles 
 in length and two or three broad, and it affords 
 in miniature every variety of mountain and valley 
 scenery. The first place I came to, the little town 
 of Pirna, detained me by its attractions. I had 
 parted from my young companion, and was left here 
 to myself in a country so beautiful, and in an inn so 
 comfortable, that I stayed four days. One of the 
 largest rocks in this neighbourhood is the insulated 
 
 * This copy of Mailer's engraving was given by Mr. Robinson's will to 
 E. W. Field. 
 
 This picture, unlike all Raphael's other altar-pieces, is painted on canvas, 
 which gave rise to an opinion, strongly contested by Professor Hubner, Keeper 
 of the Gallery at Dresden, that it was originally intended to serve as a 
 Processional Banner. The picture was purchased by Augustus, King of 
 Poland and Elector of Saxony, from the monks of the church of San Sisto, 
 at Piacenza, in 1754, for about jio,ooo. G. S. 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 Pillnitz. 
 
 Saxon 
 Switzer- 
 land.
 
 98 
 
 Bohemia. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 Konigstein. 
 
 Bohemia. 
 
 and famous Konigstein. It is said to have been 
 rendered impregnable. Certainly it has never been 
 taken. During the long French possession of Ger- 
 many, Buonaparte could never obtain possession of 
 this fortress from the otherwise obsequious King of 
 Saxony, who retained it as a place of deposit for 
 his green-vault and other treasures. It is too small 
 to hold a large garrison, and therefore might be 
 spared by Buonaparte. Amidst the recesses of a 
 mountain forest is a vast mass of rocks, some eighty 
 feet in height, with a natural cavity or hollow called 
 the Kuhstall (Cowstall), and which, according to the 
 legendary tales, was a place of refuge for the Saxon 
 peasants from the imperial troops during the Seven 
 Years' War. It might well be so now, for the brush- 
 wood and stunted trees would render the passage of 
 troops impossible. This wild and desolate spot I 
 crossed ; and when I found myself again in the 
 beautiful valley of the Elbe, I was in Bohemia. 
 
 The difference between a Roman Catholic country 
 and that I had hitherto been in was apparent at 
 once in the salutation of the peasantry. Every one 
 who met me muttered " Gelobt sei Jesus Christus " 
 (Praised be Jesus Christ). To which I invariably an- 
 swered, " In Ewigkeit " (To eternity). " Amen " was 
 the rejoinder. Then the ordinary talk about weather 
 or inquiry about roads followed. Had I not responded 
 like a good Christian, I should have had no other greet- 
 ing. The first night I slept at Teschen, in a small house 
 with worthy people, and my first evening in Bohemia 
 is worth recording. I have often told the story. In
 
 Teplits. 
 
 99 
 
 a large kitchen lay a bedridden old woman near the 
 fire. She began questioning me " Are you a Chris- 
 tian ? " " Yes."" A Catholic Christian ? " The land- 
 lord came up " Don't trouble the gentleman with 
 questions ; you know he is an Englishman, and cannot 
 be such a Christian as we are." " I know only one sort 
 of Christian," muttered she. "Why, mother! don't 
 you know the priest says it is the duty of everybody 
 to remain of the religion they are born in ?" This 
 looked like indifference at least, and I got into talk 
 with him. I asked him about the Hussites " Oh, they 
 are the most loyal and peaceable of all our people." 
 " It did not use to be so." " Oh, no ! they were always 
 breeding disturbances, but the Emperor Joseph put ah 
 end to that. Their priests were very poor and lived 
 on the peasants ; one man gave them a breakfast, 
 another a dinner, another a bed ; and so they went 
 from house to house, beggars and paupers. When the 
 Emperor came to Prague to be crowned, among the 
 decrees which he issued the first day was one that 
 the Hussite priests should be allowed the same pay 
 as the lowest order of the Catholic clergy. And since 
 then we have never had a disturbance in the country." 
 I thought then, and have often said, that had I ever 
 been in the House of Commons I would have related 
 this as an instructive lesson on the Irish priest question. 
 Next day I dined at Aussig. There I fell in with 
 a traveller who, finding I was going to the watering- 
 place Teplitz, recommended me to a private lodging 
 at the house of an honest shoemaker. In the after- 
 noon I was there. 
 
 H 2 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 The 
 Hussite*.
 
 IOO 
 
 Teplitz. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 Teplitz. 
 
 Teplitz is a small but beautiful watering-place, in 
 which is a chateau, occupied at the time by the Prince 
 de Ligne, who is known as the friend of Madame de 
 Stael. In this very agreeable little spot I took up my 
 residence for six days. Here I found a circulating 
 library (prohibited in other Bohemian towns), and in 
 the beautiful country numberless walks. The season 
 for drinking the waters was over, so that I found myself 
 quite in retirement ; but the residence of the Prince 
 afforded me an unexpected pleasure the day after my 
 arrival. I was told that there was an amateur theatre, 
 at which the Herrschaften, the noble inhabitants of the 
 chateau, performed ; and to which any one decently 
 dressed might go the nobles in the pit below the 
 citizens in the gallery above. I presented myself at 
 the door of the pit. " Sind Sie adelig, mein Herr ? " 
 (Are you noble ?) said the doorkeeper. "I am 
 English," I said, " and all English are noble." " I 
 know it, sir," he replied, and opened the door to me. 
 This I said, not meaning a joke, for everywhere in 
 Germany English travellers are treated as if they were 
 noble, even at the small courts, where there is no am- 
 bassador. No inquiry is made about birth, title, or 
 place. 
 
 At the theatre a French comedy was acted, as it 
 seemed to me with perfect good breeding. The little 
 I saw in this performance of the Princess and the rest 
 of the family was in harmony with the character they 
 possess as being among the most amiable and respect- 
 able of the higher French noblesse. 
 
 I lived a week of great enjoyment a sort of
 
 Teplitz. 
 
 101 
 
 hermit's life. My breakfast consisted of grapes and 
 cream and certainly I never lived at so little cost. I 
 soon formed an acquaintance with a young man a 
 Herr von Schall who, like myself, seemed to have 
 nothing to do. With him I spent my days in walking. 
 In the course of talk he used the expression " one 
 of my subjects" (Unterthan). " Unterthan ?" I ex- 
 claimed ; " why, you are not a sovereign ? " " Yes, I 
 am," he said ; and then he explained that he was a 
 knight. I thought he had been a Suabian knight, but 
 my journal calls him a Silesian. According to the now 
 abolished old German constitution these knights were 
 sovereigns, though they might be very poor. They 
 had the power of appointing judges, in whom was the 
 prerogative of life and death a jurisdiction the knights 
 could not personally exercise. I did not stand in any 
 awe of my new companion, nor did he claim any 
 deference on account of his princely dignity. He was 
 a light-hearted young man, as may be seen by an 
 anecdote he told me of himself. A few weeks before 
 I met him, he had the misfortune, on his way to 
 Teplitz, to be robbed of his purse. He was forced 
 to take his portmanteau on his back and bring it to 
 Teplitz, selling a pair of stockings on the road, in order 
 to get food. Arrived here, and not expecting a re- 
 mittance for some time, he announced himself as a 
 painter, being an amateur artist. He waited on Count 
 Briihl with his papers and testimonials, and solicited 
 employment. The Count gave him a miniature to 
 copy ; this was finished in a day and a half, and three 
 ducats paid for it. He went home, dressed, and in the 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 Herr von 
 Schall.
 
 102 . 
 
 Budin. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Judaism. 
 
 evening went to a ball, where he met his employer the 
 Count. Von Schall spent two ducats that evening 
 worked two days longer, and earned four ducats more. 
 He then received a remittance from home, shut up his 
 portfolio, told his story to everybody, the ladies he 
 danced with included, and figured away as one of the 
 beaux of the season. 
 
 When I left Teplitz and my worthy host and hostess, 
 Von Schall accompanied me over a mountain till we 
 came within sight of Lobositz and Leitmeritz, when I 
 entered the plains of Bohemia. I slept the first night 
 at Budin, a poor little town ; but I met there with a 
 sort of adventure which I have often looked back upon 
 with pleasure. 
 
 I was inquiring in the street for a circulating library 
 an idle inquiry, by the bye when a very handsome 
 young Jew came up and offered me a book for the 
 evening. He accompanied me to the inn, and was my 
 very agreeable companion, but would not suffer me to 
 treat him. He had a fine manly expression, and 
 talked with great freedom, which I encouraged by 
 speaking of Moses Mendelssohn and Lessing, whom 
 he naturally held in reverence. He seemed to have a 
 taste for free-thinking books ; and when I remarked 
 that these books, if they were successful against 
 Christianity, must be still more so against Judaism, 
 he was embarrassed. He professed to hold Jesus Christ 
 in the highest respect, but would not allow that he 
 had ever claimed to be the Messiah. " Moses," he 
 said, "if his claim to inspiration be waived, must still 
 be allowed to be one of the greatest of men." On my
 
 Prague. 
 
 103 
 
 asking whether the odium frequently cast on the Jews 
 operated as a temptation to embrace Christianity, he 
 replied, "You forget that we are brought up to that, 
 and that we are trained to return contempt with hatred. 
 All those I love are Jews. Were I to go over to your 
 Church, I should become an object of hatred and con- 
 tempt to all I love. My father and mother would die 
 of shame ; and, after all, by the respectable Christians 
 converted Jews are more despised than those who 
 remain firm. Fortune has made me what I am, and 
 whatever difficulties my religion may have I know of 
 none better." He said he did not believe there was 
 anything miraculous in the Israelites' passage of the 
 Red Sea. This young man lent me the continuation 
 of " Nathan der Weise." The title of this continua- 
 tion is " The Monk of Lebanon," and its object, to 
 counteract the effect of Lessing's work. 
 
 Next day eight hours' hard walking brought me to 
 Prague an imposing city, ancient and stately, contain- 
 ing 70,000 inhabitants. I have seldom seen a spot so 
 striking as the bridge over the Moldau, with its thirty 
 high statues. The view from this bridge of the cathe- 
 dral on the hill is exceedingly fine. But, on the whole, 
 I found little to detain me at Prague. Contrasting its 
 churches with those at Dresden, I wrote to my brother : 
 " The nine paintings in the Chapel at Dresden delight 
 the eye. The hundreds at Prague only oppress the 
 senses the more so, as there is no classification or 
 harmony in their arrangement. Old paintings, curious 
 perhaps for their antiquity, are paired with flashy pieces 
 glaring with varnish. A colossal statue stands by the 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 Prague.
 
 IO4 
 
 Saxon Switzerland. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 side of a rotten relic ; in one place there was a complete 
 skeleton, the skull covered with satin, and the ribs 
 adorned with crimson ribbon and tinsel. 
 
 " 'One would not sure look frightful when one's'dead.' 
 
 Still more offensive were a long row of rotten teeth. 
 Mot all the objects, however, were of this class. At 
 the high altar in St. Nicolai Church, I saw four colossal 
 statues, not less than fourteen feet high. They impressed 
 me solemnly, and I recollected the opinion expressed by 
 Wieland, that size was probably the great charm which 
 rendered so illustrious the Jupiter of Phidias." 
 
 On my way back to Pirna I was amused by the 
 slyness of an inscription on a newly built wall. It was 
 in verse, and its import as follows : " This house is in 
 the hand of God. In the year 1793 was the wall raised ; 
 and if God will turn my heart to it, and my father-in- 
 law will advance the needful, I will cover it with tiles." 
 
 I found I had still unseen beauties to explore in the 
 Saxon Switzerland. Hohnstein I thought among the 
 finest objects of this very delightful country. 
 
 On the last day of my tour, when I was at Huberts- 
 burg, I met a party of show-folk and pedlars, and was 
 treated both by them and the landlord as if I were one 
 of them. A few months before I had dined at the 
 same inn, as a gentleman visitor to the chateau. 
 Then my dinner cost me is. 2d. now I paid for my 
 afternoon luncheon, supper, bed, and breakfast, is. gd. 
 a difference more agreeable to my pocket than flattering 
 to my vanity. But travelling on foot, I found that my 
 journey, as a whole, cost me only a trifle more than I 
 paid for my ordinary board and lodging at Frankfort.
 
 Letter from England. 
 
 105 
 
 With respect to the society in this district the cul- 
 tivation and manners of the higher classes I have 
 every reason to speak favourably. As far as I myself 
 am concerned, I never before experienced from strangers 
 so much civility ; and my external appearance was cer- 
 tainly not inviting, for I went as usual in black. My 
 coat, which I brought with me from England, had 
 necessarily lost much of its original brightness ; and it 
 was rather eclipsed than set off by velvet pantaloons 
 and gaiters, which I wore out of convenience, though 
 they attracted now and then a smile from the honest 
 villagers. I met uniformly with civil treatment in the 
 public-houses, where I was- always in high spirits, and 
 by my gaiety generally gained the good will of my 
 host and his other guests. 
 
 T. R. TO H. C. R. 
 
 Bury, Oct. 2Oth, 1801. 
 
 The Peace is an event which has 
 
 excited a tumult of joy such as I never before saw 
 equalled. The effect was the stronger as the event was 
 totally unexpected indeed, for two or three days pre- 
 ceding, it was totally despaired of. The Funds were 
 falling, and the expectation of an invasion was very 
 general. All parties are therefore willing to give the 
 Ministry great credit for the secrecy with which they 
 conducted the negotiation. The demonstrations of joy 
 have risen almost to madness. Illuminations have been 
 general throughout the kingdom, and in London and 
 some other places have been repeated several times. 
 Last Friday we illuminated at Bury. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 The Peace.
 
 io6 
 
 Grimma. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Seume. 
 
 The papers will inform you of the reception which 
 was given by the London populace to the French 
 general who brought over the ratification of the pre- 
 liminaries. It is said that "Long live Buonaparte!" 
 was repeatedly cried in the streets ; and among the 
 transparencies exhibited in London his portrait was 
 shown, with this inscription : " The Saviour of the 
 World" Indeed it is curious to observe the change 
 of style in the Government newspapers. The " Corsi- 
 can adventurer," "the atheistical usurper," is now 
 " the august hero," " the restorer of public order," 
 &c. &c. ; in fact, everything that is great and good. It 
 reminds one of the transformation in a pantomime, 
 where a devil is suddenly converted into an angel. 
 The blessings of peace begin already to be felt. An 
 abundant harvest promised a considerable reduction in 
 the price of provisions, but the fall in corn has been 
 rapid beyond example. In the course of about eight 
 or ten weeks wheat has fallen in our market from 92^. 
 to 13^. the coomb, and it is expected to sink lower. . . . 
 
 On my return to Grimma, at the beginning of 
 November, I became an inmate in the house of Mr. 
 Riese ; and there I remained during the winter. I 
 spent my time pleasantly, partly in reading, and 
 partly with friends. The best society of the place 
 was freely open to me ; and at about this period I 
 became acquainted with a very remarkable person, of 
 whom there is an account in the " Conversations- 
 Lexicon," and to whom I became indebted for a 
 great pleasure. His name was Seume, the son of a
 
 Weimar. 
 
 107 
 
 poor woman who kept a public-house near Leipzig. 
 She meant to make her boy a parson, as he was 
 clever ; but he was wild, and after making some 
 progress in his studies, left his books and took up a 
 musket. He served in the American war as a private, 
 and was afterwards a non-commissioned officer among 
 the Hessians. He then went to the West Indies, and 
 at length entered the Russian service was lieutenant 
 under Suwarrow, and was present at the infamous 
 storming and sacking of Praga, near Warsaw. Mean- 
 while he pursued his studies, and became occasionally 
 a tutor to young noblemen. For some years he cor- 
 rected the press at Leipzig. He also printed some 
 volumes of poetry, and gave lessons in Greek, Eng- 
 lish, &c. He knew almost all the European languages. 
 His countenance was very striking. Herder remarked 
 to me that he had the physiognomy of a Greek phi- 
 losopher. With Seume I was to pay a visit to Weimar 
 and Jena. At Leipzig we were -joined by Schnorr, 
 whose son has since attained great eminence as a 
 painter. The father was, I believe, the master of the 
 Government drawing-school at Weimar. We left 
 Grimma on November i/th, and on the iQth I 
 visited the most famous of the Fiirsten-Schulen. The 
 establishment had 150 scholars. The only particular 
 I thought worthy of notice and imitation was a body 
 of poor students called collaborateurs, and who assist 
 the more wealthy but less advanced students, receiving 
 for their trouble a salary of 200 dollars. 
 
 We arrived late the same day at the Eagle Hotel, 
 Weimar ; and the two next days belong to the most 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 Weimar.
 
 loS 
 
 Weimar. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Wieland. 
 
 interesting in all my life. They were devoted to visits 
 to the most eminent men of their age and country. 
 
 Our first call was at the house of the aged Wieland. 
 The course of my late reading had not led me to form 
 terrifying ideas of his mental greatness, though as a 
 litterateur he is one of the first writers of his country. 
 He is not less universally read and admired in Ger- 
 many than Voltaire was in France. His works amount 
 to more than fifty volumes, all written for the many. 
 He resembles the French wit in the lightness of his 
 philosophy, in the wantonness of his muse (though it is 
 by no means so gross), and in the exquisite felicity of 
 his style. But he surpasses Voltaire in learning, if not 
 in philosophy ; for Wieland is no school-philosopher, 
 he belongs to the sensual school of Locke. And his 
 favourite opinions are those of the common-sense, 
 sceptical school. He is a sworn foe to the Kantian 
 metaphysics, and indeed to all others. In his writings, 
 as in his person and manners, he is a perfect gentle- 
 man. He received us with the courteous dignity of 
 a sage, who accepted without hauteur the homage of 
 his admirers. I have already printed an account of 
 this my first and subsequent interviews with him in 
 a note to Mrs. Austin's "Characteristics of Goethe."* I 
 shall in substance repeat what I have there said. He 
 had already shrunk into the old man. His pale and 
 delicate countenance was plain, and had something of 
 the satyr in it. He wore a black skull-cap. The marble 
 bust by Schadow, which I have the good fortune to 
 possess, is an exact resemblance of him. I ventured 
 
 * Vol. II. p. 227.
 
 Wieland. 
 
 109 
 
 to refer to his philosophical writings, and especially 
 to his " Agathodamon," which gives but a sad view of 
 Christianity and its influence on mankind. In this 
 book he draws a parallel between Jesus Christ and 
 Apollonius of Tyana, whom he considers as alike 
 generous enthusiasts, willing to make use of super- 
 stition in order to teach a beneficent morality. I 
 ventured to express my regret at the mournful con- 
 clusions at which he had arrived. He admitted that 
 his hopes of any great improvement in mankind were 
 faint. 
 
 To refer to another subject, the best if not the only 
 advantage which in his judgment may be expected 
 from the French Revolution is the promotion of the 
 fine arts and the sciences ; for he holds the French 
 nation absolutely incapable of forming a Republic. 
 He vindicated the administration of Buonaparte, and 
 did not censure the restoration of the Roman Catholic 
 Church. What he said on this point is worth reporting: 
 " We Protestants allow ourselves a great deal of in- 
 justice and habitual falsehood towards the Catholics. 
 We forget that Roman Catholicism is, after all, real 
 Christianity, and in my judgment preferable to the 
 motley things produced by the soi-disant Refor- 
 mation." 
 
 Speaking further of the Reformation, Wieland as- 
 serted that it had been an evil and not a good ; it 
 had retarded the progress of philosophy for centuries. 
 There were some wise men among the Italians who, 
 if they had been permitted, would have effected a 
 salutary reform. Luther ruined everything by making 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 The Re- 
 formation.
 
 no 
 
 Weimar. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Bottiger. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 the people a party to what ought to have been left 
 to the scholars. Had he not come forward with his 
 furious knock-down attacks on the Church, and excited 
 a succession of horrible wars in Europe, liberty, science, 
 and humanity would have slowly made their way. 
 Melanchthon and Erasmus were on the right road, but 
 the violence of the age was triumphant. It is need- 
 less to add that Wieland is a supporter of national 
 religion. 
 
 He spoke with great feeling of his wife, who had 
 died a few weeks before. " I help myself with illu- 
 sions," he said ; " he whom I have once loved never 
 dies to me. He is absent only from my outward 
 senses ; and that to be sure is painful. My wife was 
 my good angel for thirty-five years. I am no longer 
 young the recollection of her will never be weakened." 
 He spoke in a faint half-whisper, as from the bottom 
 of his throat. 
 
 My next call was on Bottiger a very laborious 
 book-maker and honest fagging scholar, noted for his 
 courtesy to strangers, of which I both now and after- 
 wards had the benefit. He had a florid complexion, 
 and seemed to be in the possession of rustic health. 
 
 My companions then took me to Professer Meyer, 
 who introduced us into the presence of Goethe the 
 great man, the first sight of whom may well form an 
 epoch in the life of any one who has devoted him- 
 self seriously to the pursuit of poetry or philosophy. 
 
 I had said to Seume that I wished to speak with 
 Wieland, and look at Goethe and I literally and 
 exactly had my desire. My sense of his greatness
 
 Goethe. 
 
 ill 
 
 was such that, had the opportunity offered, I think I 
 should have been incapable of entering into conversa- 
 tion with him ; but as it was, I was allowed to gaze 
 on him in silence. Goethe lived in a large and hand- 
 some house that is, for Weimar. Before the door of 
 his study was marked in mosaic, SALVE. On our 
 entrance he rose, and with rather a cool and distant 
 air beckoned to us to take seats. As he fixed his 
 burning eye on Seume, who took the lead, I had his 
 profile before me, and this was the case during the 
 whole of our twenty minutes' stay. He was then 
 about fifty-two years of age, and was beginning to 
 be corpulent. He was, I think, one of the most 
 oppressively handsome men I ever saw. My feeling 
 of awe was heightened by an accident. The last 
 play which I had seen in England was " Measure for 
 Measure," in which one of the most remarkable 
 moments was when Kemble (the Duke), disguised as 
 a monk, had his hood pulled off by Lucio. On this, 
 Kemble, with an expression of wonderful dignity, as- 
 cended the throne and delivered judgment on the 
 wrong-doers. 
 
 Goethe sat in precisely the same attitude, and I had 
 precisely the same view of his side-face. The con- 
 versation was quite insignificant. My companions 
 talked about themselves Seume about his youth of 
 adversity and strange adventures. Goethe smiled, with, 
 as I thought, the benignity of condescension. When 
 we were dismissed, and I was in the open air, I felt 
 as if a weight were removed from my breast, and 
 exclaimed, " Gott sei Dank!" Before long I saw him 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801.
 
 112 
 
 Weimar. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Goethe's 
 Iphigenia. 
 
 under more favourable auspices ; but of that here- 
 after. 
 
 Goethe has been often reproached for his hauteur, 
 and Burger made an epigram which the enviers and 
 revilers of the great man were fond of repeating. I 
 believe, however, that this demeanour was necessary 
 in self-defence. It was his only protection against 
 the intrusion which would otherwise have robbed him 
 and the world of a large portion of his life. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Goethe's " Iphigenia in Tauris " is perhaps the most 
 perfect drama ever composed. I have read it three 
 times within a month, and believe it has not a faulty 
 line. W. Taylor has translated it. Do lay out half- 
 a-crown on my judgment fancy Mrs. Siddons to be 
 Iphigenia and you will feel that she is the most 
 perfect ideal of the female character ever conceived, 
 rivalling in that point of view even Milton's Eve. 
 You will admire the solemn repose, the celestial tran- 
 quillity of her character, as well as of the events 
 themselves ; and this is, in my mind, the characteristic 
 of Goethe. His better and more perfect works are 
 without disorder and tumult they resemble Claude 
 Lorraine's landscapes and Raphael's historical pieces. 
 Goethe's Songs and Ballads and Elegies all have the 
 same character ; his Ballads in particular have a wild- 
 ness of fancy which is fascinating, but without tur- 
 bulence. No hurry-skurry, as in Burger's " Leonora." 
 Apropos, I believe you will find in Monk Lewis a 
 translation of a ballad called the " Erl-King " hunt
 
 Herder. 
 
 for it and read it. Goethe knows his own worth. In 
 the whole compass of his works I believe not a single 
 preface, or an article in which he speaks of himself, 
 is to be found it is enough that his works are 
 there. . 
 
 The same evening I had an introduction to one who 
 in any place but Weimar would have held the first 
 rank, and who in his person and bearing impressed 
 every one with the feeling that he belonged to the 
 highest class of men. This was Herder. The inter- 
 view was, if possible, more insignificant than that with 
 Goethe partly, perhaps, on account of my being in- 
 troduced at the same time with a distinguished pub- 
 licist, to use the German term, the eminent political 
 writer and statesman Friedrich Gentz, the translator 
 of Burke on the French Revolution, author of several 
 Austrian state-papers against France, and the great 
 literary advocate of the Austrian cause. I naturally 
 kept in the background, contenting myself with deli- 
 vering a letter which Madame de la Roche had given 
 me. But Herder sent for me next day. He had a 
 fine clerical figure, and reminded me of Dr. Geddes. 
 His expression was one of great earnestness. Though 
 he filled the highest ecclesiastical office the little 
 state of Weimar afforded, yet the greatness of Goethe 
 seemed to throw him into the shade ; and this, perhaps, 
 prevented him from appreciating Goethe's genius. 
 For the present I shall content myself with saying 
 that we had some controversial talk, I not assent- 
 ing to his contemptuous judgment of the English 
 VOL. I. I 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Herder.
 
 114 
 
 Weimar. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 1801. 
 
 Schiller. 
 
 The 
 
 theatre at 
 Weimar. 
 
 lyric poets, and he declaring the infinite superiority 
 of Klopstock's Odes to all that Gray and Collins had 
 ever written. We talked also about our English philo- 
 sophers, and he gave me a shake of the hand for my 
 praise of Hartley. Herder was a partisan of Locke. 
 
 Before I left Weimar I caljed on the one other great 
 poet, Schiller, of whom unhappily I have as little to 
 say as of the others. Indeed we were with him but 
 a few minutes. I had just time to mention Coleridge's 
 translation of Wallenstein, of which he seemed to have 
 a high opinion. The translator was a man of genius, 
 he said, but had made some ridiculous mistakes. 
 Schiller had a wild expression and a sickly look ; and 
 his manners were those of one who is not at his ease. 
 There was in him a mixture of the wildness of genius 
 and the awkwardness of the student. His features 
 were large and irregular. 
 
 On Saturday night we went to the theatre, where I 
 saw " Wallensteins Tod " performed in the presence of 
 the author. Schlegel somewhere says, " Germany has 
 two national theatres Vienna with a public of 50,000 
 spectators, Weimar with a public of 50." The theatre 
 was at this time unique ; its managers were Goethe 
 and Schiller, who exhibited there the works which 
 were to become standards and models of dramatic 
 literature. Schiller had his seat near the ducal box, 
 Goethe an arm-chair in the centre of the first row of 
 the pit. In general, theatres, whatever their size and 
 beauty may be, are after all mere places where people, 
 instead of sitting to enjoy themselves at their ease, 
 are crowded together to see something at a distance,
 
 Kotzebue. 
 
 and it is considered a sort of infringement on the rights 
 of others to take knee or elbow room. Here, on the 
 contrary, I found myself in an elegant apartment, so 
 lightly and classically adorned, and so free and easy 
 in its aspect, that I almost forgot where I was. In 
 the pit the seats are all numbered, each person has 
 his own, and each seat has arms. The single row 
 of boxes is supported by elegant pillars, under which 
 the pit loungers stroll at pleasure. The boxes have 
 no division except in front. They are adorned, too, by 
 elegant pillars, and are open below ; instead of the 
 boards commonly placed in front are elegant iron 
 palisades. There are no fixed seats, only chairs, all 
 of which, in front, are occupied by ladies. The gentle- 
 men go into the pit when they do not, as courteous 
 cavaliers, wait behind the chairs of their fair friends. 
 The box in the front is occupied by the Duke and 
 Duchess with their suite, of course without the dull 
 formality attending a Royal presence at Drury Lane. 
 I beheld Schiller a great part of the evening leaning 
 over the ducal box and chatting with .the family. 
 In the performance of this evening, I was pleased 
 with Graff as the representative of the hero, and with 
 Mademoiselle Jagermann as Thekla. She was a grace- 
 ful and beautiful creature, the first actress of the com- 
 pany. 
 
 One other noted character we visited the one who, 
 according to William Taylor of Norwich, was the 
 greatest of all. This was August von Kotzebue, the 
 very popular dramatist, whose singular fate it was to 
 live at variance with the great poets of his country 
 
 I 2 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Kotzebue.
 
 Weimar. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 The town 
 of Weimar. 
 
 while he was the idol of the mob. He was at one 
 time (about this time and a little later) a favourite 
 in all Europe. One of his plays, " The Stranger," I 
 have seen acted in German, English, Spanish, French, 
 and I believe also Italian. He was the pensioner of 
 Prussia, Austria, and Russia. The odium produced by 
 this circumstance, and the imputation of being a spy, 
 are assigned as the cause of his assassination by a stu- 
 dent of Jena a few years after our visit. He was living, 
 like Goethe, in a large house and *n style. I drank 
 tea with him, and found him a lively little man with 
 small black eyes. He had the manners of a petit 
 mattre. He was a married man with a large family, and 
 seemed to be not without the domestic feelings which 
 he has so successfully painted in his works. We were 
 ushered through a suite of rooms by a man-servant, 
 and found Mr. President in state. Nor is it unworthy 
 of remark that his house had thirty-seven windows in 
 front. Indeed, the comfortable style in which all the 
 poets I have mentioned lived, would make me imagine 
 the poet's fate must be singularly good in Germany, if 
 I did not recollect that those I saw were the prime and 
 elect of the German geniuses the favourites and idols 
 of their nation. Wieland and Goethe both gained a 
 fortune by their writings, and Schiller supported himself 
 entirely by his pen. 
 
 Weimar* is an insignificant little town, without an 
 object of beauty or taste but its park ; and even that 
 
 * A very interesting and detailed description of Weimar as it appeared in 
 the eighteenth century will be found in G. H. Lewes's "Life of Goethe," 
 vol. i., p. 311.
 
 Jena. 
 
 117 
 
 among parks has no great excellence. It has been im- 
 mortalized by many a passage in Goethe's poems. His 
 house will no doubt be preserved for the sake of its as- 
 sociations, and so probably will be the residences of the 
 other chief poets. These, alas, have all passed away !* 
 On Sunday, amid snow and rain and wind, we left 
 the seat of the Muses for the school of the philosophers 
 Weimar for Jena. The University at the latter 
 place has all the advantage of site, lying in a beautiful 
 valley. The town itself, as approached from Weimar, 
 looked interesting and promising as we descended the 
 winding road called the Snake, but within it is a beg- 
 garly place. I at once made use of a strange letter of 
 introduction given me at Gottingen by Winckelmann 
 to a student here a character one Kolle, who, having 
 passed through the ordinary years of study, continued 
 to live here at the least possible expense, sauntering 
 his time away, but by his conversation amusing and 
 instructing others. He received me very cordially, 
 though my introduction consisted only of my name 
 with some verses from Goethe. Kolle took me to a 
 concert-room, where I saw the students in genteeler 
 trim than I had seen before. His enthusiastic talk 
 about the poets and philosophers awakened in me the 
 desire, which was afterwards gratified, of residing among 
 them. We soon left Jena, and my companions, Seume 
 and Schnorr, set out on that " Spaziergang nach Syra- 
 kus," an account of which was published. Seume in 
 the first sentence says, "A few kind friends accom- 
 panied us a short distance." I was one of those friends. 
 
 * Written in 1847. 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 1801. 
 
 Jena.
 
 Tour with 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 The 
 
 Fichtelge- 
 birge. 
 
 Ansbach. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 GERMANY. 
 
 I8O2. 
 
 I FINALLY left Grimma on May 4th, 1802. Brentano 
 had finished his preparatory studies for the University, 
 and wished me to accompany him to Frankfort. We 
 intended to have gone thither by Carlsbad, but on my 
 applying to Mr. Elliott for a certificate that I was an 
 Englishman, he refused it very civilly on the ground 
 that I had not a single letter or paper to corroborate 
 my declaration. He said he had no doubt that I was 
 what I declared myself to be, and he would speak in 
 my behalf to the proper authorities. But Brentano ob- 
 jected to the delay, and we therefore changed our route, 
 and took the opportunity of visiting some romantic 
 scenes among the Fichtelgebirge, or Fir mountains the 
 birthplace of Jean Paul Richter. Here are some very 
 curious rocks, well known and celebrated by travellers 
 in search of the picturesque. Houses of entertainment 
 have been erected, and are adorned with arbours, which 
 are furnished with inscriptions. On a lofty rock, under 
 which there is a rich spring, there are two hexameters, 
 which I thus translated : 
 
 " Here from the rock's deep recesses, the nymph of the fount pours her 
 
 treasures ; 
 Learn, O man, so to give, and so to conceal, too, the giver." 
 
 On our arrival at Ansbach, which had recently been 
 brought under the dominion of Prussia, we found in the
 
 Christian Brentano. 
 
 119 
 
 peasantry an antipathy to the new Government, on 
 account of their becoming subject to military conscrip- 
 tion, from which the subjects of the ecclesiastical states 
 and of the small German princes were free. I could 
 not but notice that the peasants under the ecclesiastical 
 Princes were unquestionably, in general, in a far better 
 condition than those under the secular Protestant 
 Princes. The Calvinists and Lutherans had certainly 
 the advantage in intelligence, but they had worse bread 
 and less meat than their superstitious brethren, who 
 doffed the hat at the wayside shrines and repeated the 
 Pater Noster and Ave Maria three times a day. It 
 was my observation on this and subsequent occasions 
 that the peasantry in the bishoprics of Bamberg and 
 Wiirzburg appeared to be in a state of more ease 
 and comfort than any I saw in Germany, excepting, 
 perhaps, the Saxon peasants in the Mine mountains. 
 
 In passing through the University town of Erlangen, 
 I was pleased with the gentlemanly appearance of the 
 students, though they had not the dashing impudence 
 of the Cantabs or Oxonians. We supped at the head 
 inn, where there were about fifty young men. Our 
 polite host placed me by the side of Professor Abicht, 
 and I was again struck by the concurrence of opinion 
 among the German philosophers as to the transcendent 
 genius of Shakespeare, Goethe, and Dante the triple 
 glory of modern poetry, and by the diversity of opinion 
 as to the great principles of metaphysics. Abicht was 
 the first German whom I had heard avow belief in 
 Prvestleyan necessity. 
 
 I also visited Nuremberg, famous for the manufactory 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 
 1802.
 
 120 
 
 Tour with 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Nuremberg 
 
 Roman 
 Catholic 
 piety. 
 
 of toys ; and itself one of the most curious and national 
 of cities. On the morning after our arrival, I arose 
 early and walked out of the gates, and on my return 
 was arrested by the guard ; who ordered me to 
 accompany him to the Governor. I observed that he 
 carried some irons in his hand. The Governor received 
 me courteously, examined my pass, asked me a few 
 questions, and finding I was at the principal inn, 
 dismissed me with the assurance that he was satisfied 
 that I was an Ehrenmann (as we should say, a gentle- 
 man) ; " though," he added, " the sentinel was not to 
 blame." In the course of the day he sent a powdered 
 lackey to me with the message that he hoped I should 
 not think worse of the city for what had happened. I 
 asked the servant to explain the cause of my arrest, 
 and he showed me a hue and cry after a merchant who 
 had become a fraudulent bankrupt and fled. The sig- 
 nalement stated that the fugitive had on pantaloons and 
 cloth gaiters ! 
 
 At Bischoffsheim, where Brentano had been at school, 
 I was amused by the cordial simplicity with which the 
 old women greeted him whom they had known as "little 
 hristian ; " one old woman exclaiming perpetually, " O 
 thou holy Mother of God ! O thou holy Antonius of 
 Padua ! " Another good creature said she had never 
 brgotten to pray for him, but now that he had visited 
 ier, she would do it ten times oftener. I could not but 
 notice that Catholic piety seemed more lively as well 
 as more poetical than Calvinistic. I saw here in a poor 
 cottage an edifying book, which delighted me by the 
 aeautiful simplicity of its style. It was entitled
 
 Christian Brentano. 
 
 121 
 
 "Gnadenbilder" (Grace-working Images), and was a col- 
 lection of tales of miracles wrought by images. The 
 facts were briefly stated, with no assertion of their truth, 
 and no dogma or imprecation against unbelievers ; and 
 each tale had its prayer. The prayers addressed to the 
 Virgin were in a style of nai've and simple affection, 
 quite touching ; such as, " O thou chaste Dove, who 
 feddest with holy crumbs the heavenly Babe!" "O thou 
 pure Swan, who sailest on the lake of Divine Grace !" 
 " O thou Arch of triumph, through which alone the 
 Lord of Glory was permitted to pass ! " Brentano 
 afterwards became a zealous Romanist, and perhaps 
 the circumstances of his early education had something 
 to do with this change. 
 
 In a certain sense, many of us mutilate the mind 
 and render it impotent, for there is in the nature of man 
 an irresistible tendency to religion ; it is founded in 
 our wants and passions, in the extent of our faculties, 
 in the quality of mind itself. Akenside's description 
 of the untired soul darting from world to world, is a 
 noble image of the restless longing of the mind after 
 God and immortality. The stronger his sensibility, 
 the more exalted his imagination, the more pious will 
 every man be. And in this inherent and essential 
 quality of our minds can we alone account for the 
 various absurd and demonstrably false dogmas believed 
 so honestly and zealously by some. Men run head- 
 long into superstition in the same way as young boys 
 and girls run into matrimony. 
 
 On reaching Frankfort I took up my abode there for 
 a short time, and enjoyed the renewal of the society of 
 
 CHAP. vr. 
 1802.
 
 122 
 
 Frankfort. 
 
 CHAP. vr. 
 1802. 
 
 Goethe's 
 mother. 
 
 F. Schlegel. 
 
 the Servieres, the Brentanos, and other former friends. 
 The only incident I have to mention is, that once or 
 twice I was in the company of Frau Rathinn Goethe,* 
 who is almost an historic character through the supreme 
 eminence of her son. She had the mien and deport- 
 ment of a strong person. This impression of her is 
 confirmed by the anecdotes related of her in the 
 " Briefwechsel von Goethe mit einem Kinde," and indeed 
 by every account of her. She spoke of her son with 
 satisfaction and pride. In the course of her conver- 
 sation she remarked, that Werter is not in the beginning 
 the Werter of the end, and that it is only in the latter 
 part of the work he may be said to represent Jeru- 
 salem a young man who really killed himself because 
 he received an affront in public. She spoke also of the 
 origin of " Gotz von Berlichingen." Her son came home 
 one evening in high spirits, saying, " Oh, mother, I have 
 found such a book in the public library, and I will make 
 a play of it ! What great eyes the Philistines will 
 make at the Knight with the Iron-hand ! That's 
 glorious the Iron-hand!" 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Frankfort, June 6th, 1802. 
 
 A few days since I had the pleasure of conversing 
 with F. Schlegel, one of the first living poets, and a 
 great ^Esthetiker ; he is the brother of the translator 
 of Shakespeare. He seemed much pleased with one 
 or two pieces by Wordsworth. We talked of our 
 English poets. He holds Spenser to be the greatest 
 
 * Known under the appellation of Frau Rath Goethe in German literature.
 
 Giessen Marburg. 
 
 123 
 
 in respect to the melody of verse. " When I reac 
 him," says he, " I can hardly think it is a northern 
 language, much less English." He holds his " Pas- 
 torals" to be his best work, and yet this is a book 
 of which neither you nor I have read a word. I am 
 resolved to leave my favourite authors and study those 
 I have through mistaken notions or absurd prejudices 
 neglected. 
 
 I met lately with a declaration by Wieland con- 
 cerning Shaftesbury " The author," says he, " to whom 
 I owe more of my cultivation than to any other writer, 
 and of whom I never think without humility when 
 I reflect how far below him I now am." And yet 
 I believe Shaftesbury is quite unknown to you. 
 Mendelssohn calls him the English Plato for richness 
 of style, and for the genial poetic character of his 
 moral philosophy. 
 
 While I was at Frankfort I received an invitation 
 from Christian Brentano to join him at Marburg and 
 accompany him to Jena. One of the places I passed 
 through was the University town of Giessen, which 
 seemed to me a poverty-struck and remarkably un- 
 interesting town. It belongs to Hesse, and has 
 recently derived celebrity from its great chemical 
 professor, Liebig. In five days I reached Marburg, 
 also the seat of a University, and beautiful and 
 romantic in situation. Delightful apartments had 
 been taken for me in the house of Professor Tiedemann, 
 the author of a learned History of Philosophy. But 
 I saw nothing of him or his family. His house was 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Giessen. 
 
 Marburg,
 
 124 
 
 Marburg. 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Von 
 Saviipiy. 
 
 nearly at the top of the town, and from my pillow 
 I had towards the east a glorious view of a long 
 valley. I lay on a sofa of metal rings, covered with 
 hair, the most elastic of couches, and to me a novelty. 
 Adjoining this apartment were the rooms of the then 
 Doctor Docens, or perhaps Professor Extraordinarius, 
 von Savigny, who was commencing the professional 
 career which ended in his being placed in the highest 
 position in Prussia, that of Minister of State for 
 the Law Department a kind of Chancellor. He 
 became the head of the historical school of law as 
 opposed to the codifying school, of which in modern 
 times Bentham was the most eminent advocate. 
 Savigny's great work is a History of Roman Law. 
 At the time of which I speak he was known by a 
 learned work on Real Law, " Uber Besitz" (on Pos- 
 session). A dinner for four was brought up to his 
 apartments every day, for him, the two Brentanos, 
 and myself; and we usually spent the rest of the 
 day together. Savigny was altogether different in his 
 manner from the Brentanos rather solemn in his tone. 
 In the contests which constantly arose between them 
 and me, I always found him on my side. He had 
 a fine face, which strongly resembled the portraits of 
 Raphael. At this very time he was paying his 
 addresses to the eldest of the Miss Brentanos, Kuni- 
 gunda by name. Several of her letters to .him were 
 sent under cover to me. I am ashamed to confess 
 that, though I was fully sensible of the solidity of 
 his attainments and the worth of his character, I had 
 so little discernment as not in the least to foresee
 
 Jena. 
 
 125 
 
 his great future eminence. Of his conversation I 
 recollect only one thing that is characteristic. He 
 said that an English lawyer might render great service 
 to legal science by studying the Roman Law, and 
 showing the obligations of English Law to it, which 
 are more numerous than is generally supposed. One 
 day I mentioned our fiction of a wager in order to try 
 an issue, and he informed me that that was borrowed 
 from the Roman Law. 
 
 After an agreeable residence of between five and 
 six weeks at Marburg, I set out on foot with Chris- 
 tian Brentano for Jena. The only incident on the 
 journey which I recollect, is a visit to the celebrated 
 castle of Wartburg, where Luther underwent his 
 friendly imprisonment, and made part of his famous 
 translation of the Bible. On arriving at Jena I took 
 up my residence in agreeable apartments,* and was 
 at once introduced to a social circle which rendered 
 my stay there, till the autumn of 1805, one of the 
 happiest periods of my life. 
 
 Having resolved to become a student at the Uni- 
 versity, I matriculated on the 2Oth of October, the 
 Prorector being Geheimerath (Privy Counsellor) Voigt. 
 
 It required only a few dollars to become enrolled 
 among the Academischen Burger. The fees amounted 
 to little more than half-a-guinea ; but for the honour 
 of Old England I contrived to spend nearly a guinea 
 by increasing the gratuities to the under officers. 
 I received in return a large piece of printed paper, 
 with a huge seal, announcing in Latin that, on due 
 
 * My lodgings cost yearly somewhat less than seven pounds ! H. C. R. 
 
 CHAP. vr. 
 
 1802. 
 
 The Castle 
 of Wart- 
 burg. 
 
 Matricula- 
 tion at the 
 University 
 of Jena.
 
 126 
 
 Jena. 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 University 
 studies. 
 
 examination, I had been found worthy to study all 
 the arts and sciences. I had also acquired a variety 
 of legal privileges, and contracted certain obligations. 
 I solemnly promised not to knock anybody on the 
 head, which I never felt any inclination to do : to 
 enter into no clubs and societies, which nevertheless 
 exist with the knowledge and connivance of the 
 authorities : to employ all the knowledge I should 
 gain to the advantage of religion and society a 
 promise which might be kept without, I fear, sensibly 
 advancing either. And yet I took pains enough to 
 get wisdom, for I went to school four times a day, 
 and heard lectures on experimental physics, on 
 aesthetics, on speculative philosophy, and on physical 
 anthropology. The shortest way of giving an ac- 
 count of my uniform occupation during five days of 
 the week will be by an extract from a letter : 
 
 " About six o'clock the man who brushes my clothes 
 and cleans my shoes will open my bedroom, or rather 
 closet, door, and light my candle. I shall instantly 
 jump out of my wretched straw hammock and go into 
 my room, where in half an hour our pretty chamber- 
 maid will bring my dried carrots, called coffee, which 
 I shall drink because I am thirsty, but not without 
 longing after tea and toast. This done, I shall take up 
 Schelling's ' Journal of Speculative Physics,' and, com- 
 paring the printed paragraphs with my notes taken last 
 Friday, try to persuade myself that I have understood 
 something. Then I shall listen to another lecture by 
 him on the same subject. What my experience will 
 then be, I can't say ; I know what it has been."
 
 Student Life. 
 
 127 
 
 I will interpose a sad but true commentary on the 
 text. I very lately read, in the Prospective Review, an 
 article by James Martineau, in which he says, " This 
 is the age of metaphysical curiosity without metaphy- 
 sical talent." In every age, I believe, there have been 
 students of whom this might be said, and I do not 
 repent of being one of them. I would rather have 
 failed in the attempt than not have made it. 
 
 " Precisely at ten I shall run to the Auditorium of 
 his 'Magnificence,' the Prorector Voigt, and hear his 
 lecture on Experimental Physics, which we call Natural 
 Philosophy. I shall admire his instruments and smile 
 at the egregious absurdity of his illustrations of the 
 laws of nature, and at his attempts to draw a moral 
 from his physical lessons. He may possibly repeat 
 his favourite hypothesis of two sorts of fire, male and 
 female ; or allude to his illustration of the Trinity, as 
 shown in the creative or paternal, the preserving or 
 filial, the combining or spiritual principles of nature. 
 Or he may liken the operation of attraction and repul- 
 sion in the material world to the debit and credit o: 
 a merchant's cash-book. (N.B. These are all facts.) 
 Wearied by the lecture, I shall perhaps hardly know 
 what to do between eleven and twelve o'clock, when ] 
 shall reluctantly come home to a very bad dinner. Jena 
 is famous for its bad eating and drinking. Then I shal 
 prepare myself for a lecture at two from Geheimer 
 Hofrath Loder, on Physical Anthropology, by far th 
 best delivered and most useful of the lectures I attend 
 I shall do my best to conquer my dislike of, and even 
 disgust at, anatomical preparations, and my repugnanc 
 
 :HAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 'Jniversity 
 studies.
 
 128 
 
 Jena. 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 University 
 studies. 
 
 to inspect rotten carcasses and smoked skeletons. And 
 I expect to learn the general laws and structure of the 
 human frame, as developed with less minuteness for 
 general students than he employs on his anatomical 
 lectures for students of medicine." 
 
 I add here that the museum of Loder enjoyed as 
 high a reputation in Germany as that of John Hunter 
 in England, and that the museum and its professor 
 were together invited soon after this time to the Rus- 
 sian University of Dorpat the malicious and envious 
 affirming that the professor went as accessory. 
 
 " From Lcder I shall proceed to Schelling, and hear 
 him lecture for an hour on ^Esthetics, or the Philosophy 
 of Taste. In spite of the obscurity of a philosophy in 
 which are combined profound abstraction and enthusi- 
 astic mysticism, I shall certainly be amused at parti- 
 cular remarks (however unable to comprehend the 
 whole) in his development of Platonic ideas and expla- 
 nation of the philosophy veiled in the Greek mythology. 
 I may be, perhaps, a little touched now and then by his 
 contemptuous treatment of our English writers, as last 
 Wednesday I was by his abuse of Darwin and Locke. 
 I may hear Johnson called thick-skinned, and Priestley 
 shallow. I may hear it insinuated that science is not 
 to be expected in a country where mathematics are 
 valued only as they may help to make spinning-jennies 
 and machines for weaving stockings. After a stroll by 
 the river side in Paradise, I shall at four attend Schel- 
 1 ing's lecture on Speculative Philosophy, and I may be 
 animated by the sight of more than 130 enthusiastic 
 young men, eagerly listening to the exposition of a
 
 Studies at Jena. 
 
 129 
 
 philosophy which in its pretensions is more aspiring 
 than any publicly maintained since the days of Plato 
 and his commentators a philosophy equally opposed 
 to the empiricism of Locke, the scepticism of Hume, 
 and the critical school of Kant, and which is now in 
 the sphere of Metaphysics the Lord of the Ascendant. 
 But if I chance to be in a prosaic mood, I may smile 
 at the patience of so large an assembly, listening, 
 because it is the fashion, to a detail which not one in 
 twenty comprehends, and which only fills the head with 
 dry formularies and rhapsodical phraseology. At six I 
 shall come home exhausted with attention to novelties 
 hard to understand ; and after, perhaps, an unsuccessful 
 attempt to pen a few English iambics in a translation 
 of Goethe's 'Tasso,' I shall read in bed some fairy tale, 
 poem, or other light work." 
 
 This account of my first Semester studies may suffice 
 for the present. Soon after writing the letter from 
 which the above is taken, I was invited to a supper- 
 party at Schelling's. The evening was a jovial one, and 
 showed that philosophers can unbend as well as other 
 folk ; and as it was only in a convivial way I could 
 expect to be listened to by a great metaphysician, I 
 ventured to spar with the Professor. Some strange and 
 unintelligible remarks had been made on the mythology 
 as well of the Orientalists as the Greeks, and the im- 
 portant part played by the Serpent. A gentleman 
 present exhibited a ring, received from England, in the 
 form of a serpent. " Is the serpent the symbol of 
 English philosophy ?" said Schelling to me. " Oh, no !" 
 I answered, " the English take it to appertain to 
 VOL. I. K 
 
 Schelling.
 
 130 
 
 Studies 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Hegel. 
 
 Schelling. 
 
 German philosophy, because it changes its coat every 
 year." "A proof," he replied, "that the English do not 
 look deeper than the coat." Though I shall have 
 occasion again to speak of Schelling, I will here add 
 that he had the countenance of a white negro, if the 
 contradiction may be pardoned that is, the curly hair, 
 flat nose, and thick lips, without the colour of the 
 African. After a time he was dethroned from his 
 metaphysical rank by Hegel, who must have been his 
 pupil.* Of him I have no recollection, though I find 
 among my papers some memoranda of him. His 
 philosophy was stigmatized as Pantheistic ; Schelling 
 managed to keep on better terms with Christianity. 
 His learning is unquestionable, and he ranks among 
 the first of German thinkers. Like his predecessors, he 
 was fond of tracing a trinity in his scheme. The 
 Absolute Being or All in All appears sometimes as 
 the finite or nature, symbolized by the Son, who, ac- 
 cording to the Christian revelation, is subject to the 
 conditions of Time, like all natural and material things, 
 and therefore dies ; sometimes as thought or the infinite, 
 having no form, the Spirit ; and the union of the two, 
 matter and spirit, is the Father. And thus who knows 
 but that after all the Athanasian Creed will be resolved 
 into high metaphysical truth ? 
 
 It may be thought that these metaphysical puzzles 
 have no business in a paper of personal recollections ; 
 but, in fact, these subjects occupied much of my time 
 while in Jena and never more than now. 
 
 * Hegel and Schelling were fellow-pupils at Tubingen. The former was five 
 years the elder ; nevertheless Schelling seems at first to have taken the lead in 
 philosophy, and to have been of service to his friend.
 
 at Jena. 
 
 The old student Kolle, to whom I have already 
 referred, introduced me to Professor Fries, the most 
 distinguished Kantianer at that time, when the ideal- 
 ists of the Fichte and Schelling schools had nearly 
 destroyed the Critical Philosophy. Fries was brought 
 up among the Moravians, fond of talk, but of the 
 simplest habits a shy man. Almost the only treat he 
 allowed himself was a daily walk to Zwatzen, a village 
 about two miles from Jena, in the charming valley of 
 which Jena is the metropolis. Around Fries collected 
 a number of young men ; and of his party I was con- 
 sidered an ordinary member. By him and by others I 
 was well received, my chief merit being, I believe, there 
 as elsewhere in Germany, that I was " der Englander." 
 Nearly the whole of my time at Jena I was the only 
 Englishman there. It was a passport everywhere. I 
 could give information, at all events, about the language. 
 With Fries I used to talk about the English philoso- 
 phers, held very cheaply by him ; but he wanted 
 historical knowledge about them, which I was able to 
 give. And he, in return, tried to inoculate me with 
 Kantianism. The little I ever clearly understood I 
 learned from him. 
 
 On passing through Schlangenbad I fell in with a 
 
 Major K , a gentlemanly man, who gave me a card 
 
 to two students who were connected with him Frede- 
 rick and Christian Schlosser. Christian, the younger, 
 had a commanding intellect, and was a partisan of the 
 new poetical school, as well as of the newest school of 
 medical philosophy. His profession was that of medi- 
 cine. He became a Roman Catholic, and his elder 
 
 K 2 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 
 1802. 
 
 Professor 
 Fries. 
 
 Frederick 
 
 and 
 
 Christian 
 Schlosser.
 
 132 
 
 Studies 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Mental 
 pheno- 
 menon. 
 
 brother followed him. He died young. At the time of 
 my writing this, Frederick is still living, and resides at 
 Heidelberg, in a handsome house called the Stift, an 
 ancient convent ; he and his wife are both highly 
 esteemed. The Stift is his own property ; but he told 
 me that as it had been Church property, and was confis- 
 cated at the Reformation, he did not purchase it until 
 he had obtained the approbation and license of the 
 Pope. 
 
 Before the end of the year I left off dining at home, 
 and became an abonne at the Rose, the head inn, 
 where my dinner cost five shillings a week. Here were 
 the Schlossers and other students of the higher class, 
 and the conversation was in the best University tone. 
 I was often applied to, to read passages from Shake- 
 speare. Christian Schlosser remarked one day at the 
 Rose table-d'hote, that in the "Midsummer Night's 
 Dream," the pervading idea is mesalliance among the 
 supernatural beings and on earth, matrimonial dissen- 
 sions in the comic characters also, when the mechanics 
 presume to ally themselves to fine art. The. Schlossers 
 looked down upon the Kantian school, and therefore 
 upon Fries. They and he, however, were united to a 
 certain degree by a common love and admiration of 
 Goethe. A third Schlosser, a cousin, was a nephew of 
 Goethe, and there was a friendly acquaintance between 
 the Schlossers and Clemens Brentano. 
 
 I may here relate a curious phenomenon of which 
 I myself was a witness. The house in which I lived 
 was large, and a number of students occupied apart- 
 ments in it. There was no resident family, nor any
 
 at Jena. 
 
 133 
 
 female except a middle-aged woman, Aufwarterinn, 
 (waitress), and a very pretty girl, Besen (broom), in the 
 cant language of the Burschen both respectable in 
 their situation. It was the business of these women 
 to let in the students at all hours of the night, and 
 by so doing a habit was contracted of rising and open- 
 ing the door without awaking. It became possible 
 to maintain a conversation with both the woman and 
 the girl without their being properly awake. Their 
 condition seems to have been very much like what is 
 now known as the mesmeric sleep. The particulars 
 which I have to mention are still fresh in my memory, 
 but I will copy from an account written by me at the 
 time : " Last night, going into the kitchen for a candle, 
 I saw the younger woman of the house in this extraordi- 
 nary state, and listened to a dialogue between her and 
 the elder : her answers were pertinent and even witty. 
 One question put to her was, ' What sort of a man is 
 Brentano ? ' She answered, ' The little fellow in the front 
 parlour ? Oh, he's a comical fellow like his brother 
 Clemens but he was artig' (polite). 'And what of 
 the Englishman ? ' ' Oh, he's a guter Kerl (a good 
 fellow) he's so fond of talking.' So you see what 
 she said in her sleep was credible at all events. After 
 several incidents, which I pass over, I spoke in my own 
 voice, and asked for a candle ; she recognized me, and 
 without awaking took the light and accompanied me 
 to my room. A few days later I witnessed some 
 amusing but unwarrantable experiments on the elder 
 woman, when she was in the same state. The inquiiy 
 was made whether she had any empty rooms. She 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Sleep-walk- 
 ing.
 
 134 
 
 Studies 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 
 1802. 
 
 Mysticism. 
 
 replied, ' Oh yes ! ' and then in an artificial tone praised 
 the rooms and named the price. Some of the questions 
 were of a kind which I could not approve, and when 
 at length she awoke she was very reasonably angry at 
 the tricks which had been played on her." 
 
 On seeking for an explanation of these facts, I found 
 that animal magnetism, so far from being considered 
 in Jena as mere quackery, was received by the most 
 esteemed natural philosophers as an admitted fact, and 
 an important chapter in the natural history of man. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 " On all points, natural philosophy, religion, metaphy- 
 sics, there seems to be a uniform opposition between 
 German and English opinion. You say with truth I 
 am growing a mystic. I rejoice to perceive it. Mys- 
 tery is the poetry of philosophy. It employs and 
 delights the fancy at least, while your philosophy, and 
 the cold rational quibbles of the French and English 
 schools, furnish nothing but negatives to the understand- 
 ing, and leave the fancy and the heart quite barren. 
 After all, what we want is strong persuasion, conviction, 
 satisfaction ; whether it be the demonstrated knowledge 
 of the mathematician, the faith of the pietist, the pre- 
 sentiment of the mystic, or the inspiration of the poet, 
 is of less consequence to the individual. And it seems 
 that nature has sufficiently provided for this great 
 blessing by that happy ductility of imagination which 
 is called credulity." 
 
 So I wrote. But I should have thought more justly 
 if I had said that the best provision of nature or
 
 at Jena. 
 
 135 
 
 providence (whichever name we give to the originating 
 cause), for the fit cultivation of the spheres of nature, 
 physical and moral, lies in the infinite varieties of 
 human character. All the faculties which man has 
 are found, generally speaking, in all men ; but with 
 infinite degrees of strength and quantity, and with 
 varieties in combination. 
 
 One of my employments during a part of 18023 
 was that of a contributor to a magazine entitled the 
 Monthly Register, and edited by my friend Collier. 
 The subjects on which I wrote were German literature, 
 the philosophy of Kant, &c. I also gave many trans- 
 lations from Goethe, Schiller, and others, in order to 
 exemplify the German theory of versification. As an 
 apology for my being so much attracted to this subject, 
 I quote on the epic hexameter, 
 
 ' ' Giddy it bears thee away, on the waves ever restless and rolling ; 
 And thou, behind and before, seest but ocean and sky." 
 
 I sent one really wise paper a translation of an 
 essay by Herr von Savigny on German Universities ; 
 for the rest, I unaffectedly declare that they attracted 
 no notice, and did not deserve any. 
 
 [This will be the best place for a letter from Savigny, 
 though written somewhat later, on the subject of 
 University teaching. ED.] 
 
 SAVIGNY TO H. C. R. (TRANSLATED.) 
 
 Dear Robinson, 
 
 Marburg, Jan. tyh, 1803. 
 
 If you saw what a tremendous deal I have to do 
 this winter, you would forgive me that I have not 
 written to you before. Nevertheless I do not forgive 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 The 
 
 Monthly 
 Register.
 
 136 
 
 Studies 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Savigny on 
 the art of 
 teaching. 
 
 myself, for I have all this time not heard from you, and 
 that through my fault. 
 
 Moreover, in your letter you do me a wrong which I 
 have to endure from many ; you imagine you see in me 
 a teacher full of noble views with regard to you. God 
 knows how I have incurred this suspicion, I, who 
 perhaps am too off-hand with myself and others, and 
 act and speak almost entirely according to my mood, 
 and consequently as I feel at the moment, without any 
 generous thought about the future. If I were to keep 
 silent at such an accusation, my relation to you would 
 be really a mockery ; I should then put on a serious 
 face, and could not help laughing at you in my heart. 
 
 About the oral lectures we are indeed of very 
 
 
 different opinions, although I quite agree with you as to 
 
 the method in which they are now given. If a rule is 
 to be established on the subject, it is necessary first to 
 leave out of consideration those real geniuses who are 
 great in practice, though even these must find a place 
 in the end. Such a genius Schelling is not Fichte may 
 partially have been ; I have known only one such, and 
 that was Spittler. To give one day full expression to 
 my theory, and also to do something towards carrying 
 it out, is a matter which I have especially at heart. Its 
 principle is very simple : whatever man pursues, his own 
 dignity, as well as the interest of the work, and of the 
 subject itself, demands always that he should do it 
 thoroughly. Thoroughly to do a thing means so to do 
 it that the work shall penetrate our innermost being 
 and thus become a part of ourselves, and then be spon- 
 taneously reproduced. Thus arise master minds who
 
 at Jena. 
 
 137 
 
 combine mastery of their subject with the maintenance 
 of their individuality. But the only way in which we 
 can make a thing our own is by thoroughly working it 
 out. Therefore the whole art of a teacher consists in 
 methodically quickening the productive energy of the 
 pupil, and making him find out science for himself. I 
 am convinced, therefore, that this is the one necessary 
 method, and consequently that it is possible. Our 
 lectures, as they are at present, have little resemblance 
 to it ; even in outward form almost everything must be 
 changed. I see clearly the possibility of carrying out 
 a great part of this plan, the greatest difficulty being 
 without doubt to teach philosophy in this way, although 
 it may be supposed to have been the method of the 
 ancients. Nothing can be more opposite than the 
 diffuse way in which Schelling authoritatively forces his 
 ideas on crude understandings, and this method, accord- 
 ing to which it ought to be the highest glory of the 
 teacher, if the pupils, with the greatest love and venera- 
 tion for him, should nevertheless stand to. him, the 
 scientific individual, in no nearer relation than to any 
 one else. The manner of lecturing should be in the 
 highest degree unrestrained : teaching, talking, ques- 
 tioning, conversing, just as the subject may require. 
 There is no calculating what must result from this ; 
 unquestionably the greatest difficulty would be to find 
 a number of teachers adapted to it. Yet nothing is 
 impossible. You see that this whole idea might be 
 expressed from another side, by the demand that the 
 free activity of the mind should be rendered possible 
 by the complete mastery of the whole subject-matter. 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 
 1802. 
 
 Schelling.
 
 138 
 
 Studies 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Kanfs 
 
 philosophy. 
 
 And, viewed from this point, it stands in very decided 
 connection with the method of the excellent and 
 
 enthusiastic Pestalozzi. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Last of all, because such is the custom, but in every 
 other respect first of all, I beg the continuance of your 
 
 friendly feeling. 
 
 SAVIGNY. 
 
 [Here also may be added two extracts respecting the 
 fundamental principles of Kant's philosophy.] 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Kantianism professes to have detected the basis of 
 metaphysical science, and to have established that 
 science on a similar but not the same footing of sure 
 evidence as the mathematical and natural sciences. It 
 professes to annihilate scepticism, which is an eternal 
 reproach to reason (for what is scepticism but a 
 confession of the impotence of reason ?) by showing 
 the precise limits of knowledge, and trie extent and 
 degree of belief which we are compelled to give to 
 notions that are not susceptible of certain evidence. 
 In the study of Kant, independently of his grand 
 result, I have learnt to detect so many false reasonings 
 in our school, and have acquired so many new views 
 of intellect, that I rejoice in having undertaken the 
 study of him, though it has caused me more pain than 
 I scarcely ever felt, and produced that humiliating sense 
 of myself, the free and unexaggerated expression of 
 which you have been pleased to consider as chimerical. 
 I have indeed conquered one vast difficulty, and have
 
 at Jena. 
 
 139 
 
 at length pierced the cloud which hung over his 
 doctrine of liberty. I am converted from the dog- 
 matical assertion of philosophical necessity, but on 
 grounds of which the libertarians in England have no 
 conception. I will still support necessity against all the 
 world but Kant and the Devil. Don't ask me for these 
 grounds they would be quite unintelligible till you had 
 previously comprehended and adopted the Kantian 
 theory of conceptions a priori, and of time and space. 
 It was the fault of my last letter that I tried to say too 
 much. I will confine myself at present to one single 
 point, and I flatter myself that I shall make that one 
 point intelligible. And I have hitherto found that to 
 comprehend and to be a convert to Kant were the 
 same. This point is the refutation of Locke's (or rather 
 Aristotle's) famous principle, that there is nothing in 
 intellect which was not before in sense, or that all our 
 conceptions (ideas) are derived from sensation. 
 
 According to the empirical system, as stated in its 
 utmost consistency by Home Tooke, man has but one 
 faculty, that of receiving sensation from external 
 objects. But as it is certain we have innumerable 
 notions and ideas which are not the copies of external 
 objects, the empirics, particularly Hartley, explain how 
 these super-sensible notions and ideas yet arise (mechani- 
 cally according to Hartley) from such sensations. But 
 here is a clear defect in the system ; every operation 
 supposes a power working and a power worked upon. 
 Mere sensibility can give us only sensations, but it is 
 certain we have a thousand notions which are not 
 material and sensible. External objects may be, and 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Kant's 
 
 philosophy.
 
 140 
 
 Studies 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Kant's 
 philosophy. 
 
 unquestionably are, necessary conditions the sine qud 
 non of ideas, but there must be something more. 
 There must be in us a capacity of being so affected, 
 as well as in external objects a capacity of affecting. 
 And this something is a priori: not that in the order 
 of time the conceptions (general ideas) exist before 
 experience, but that the source of such conceptions 
 is independent of experience. You will therefore not 
 accuse Kant of supporting innate ideas, of which he 
 is the decided adversary. 
 
 What Kant asserts is, that in order to the arriving 
 at knowledge there must be a matter and form ; the 
 former is furnished by the sensibility, the latter exists 
 in the faculty of understanding. This word form is 
 to you quite unintelligible. It was a long while ere I 
 learnt its import. It is the 'Ass's Bridge of Kantian- 
 ism. I will try to lift you over it. You have seen, I 
 hope, a magic lantern. It is the best illustration I can 
 find. In order to show off the figures, there must be 
 a bright spot on the wall, upon which the coloured 
 figures are exhibited. This is an image of the human 
 mind. Without figures, the luminous spot is an empty 
 nothing, like the human mind till it has objects of sense. 
 But without the spot the figures would be invisible, 
 as without an a priori capacity to receive impressions 
 we could have none. The matter, therefore, of the 
 dancing spectacle on the wall is the ever-shifting figure ; 
 its form is the bright spot which is necessary to its 
 being shown. According to Leibnitz, the figures are 
 ready made in the spot. According to Locke, no spot 
 is necessary. Kant is the first philosopher who ex-
 
 at Jena. 
 
 141 
 
 plained the true mechanism of that wonderful magic 
 lantern, the human mind. When, therefore, it is said 
 we have the conceptions (general ideas) a priori, it is 
 not meant that the actual conceptions lie in us, even 
 in a sort of dormant state which would be a position 
 without meaning, and hence equally incapable of being 
 proved or disproved but that they are, or arise from, the 
 pre-existent capacity of the understanding, and are deter- 
 mined by the natural power of thinking which the mind 
 possesses. In other words, conceptions a priori are but 
 the forms of conceptions a posteriori, i.e. conceptions 
 whose matter is derived from experience. Perceiving 
 a ball on the edge of a table, which lies still till pushed 
 off and then falls to the ground, the mind can observe 
 this fact, remember it, and put it into words. But how 
 is the mind enabled by this observation to infer that 
 all bodies in a state of rest remain as they are till a 
 foreign substance operates on them or, in a more 
 general form, that all events must have a cause ? The 
 pushing of a ball is not all events. And the fact that 
 something is, is essentially different from the knowledge 
 that something must be. The latter knowledge nature 
 can never give, for nature gives only facts and things, 
 but we have the latter conception. Your Hartley 
 shows the circumstances under which these super- 
 sensible conceptions are called forth. His facts are 
 denied by no one, but they do not prove the con- 
 ceptions to be of sensible origin, any more than the 
 warmth necessary to hatch an egg proves that the 
 warmth is the principle of animal life. Conceptions 
 themselves, which are essential to all knowledge, are 
 
 CHAP. vr. 
 1802. 
 
 Kant's 
 philosophy.
 
 142 
 
 Studies 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Kants 
 philosophy- 
 
 a priori and not only conceptions, even intuitions 
 for instance space, which is yet generally considered as 
 a general or abstract idea (i.e. conception). Now it is 
 the characteristic of conception (or general idea) that it 
 includes under it many individuals as " man " includes 
 Jack, Tom, and Harry ; but when we think of space it 
 is always as one whole. And different places are not like 
 individual persons distinct beings having only common 
 qualities ; but different places are only parts of space. 
 How, then, did we come by the a priori intuition, space ? 
 You will say by abstraction ; we unite all the places 
 we have seen, imagine an infinity of others, and call 
 the whole space. But, on reflection, you will find this 
 process requires that we should set out with the notion 
 of space, though your professed object is to leave off 
 with it ; for how could the mind have the consciousness 
 " I am in a place," or, " This is a place," if it had not 
 already a notion of space ? I will state the example 
 in another form. You have a conception of body. 
 Most of its requisites or component parts are empirical, 
 and all that you have acquired through experience you 
 can imagine yourself not to have ; for instance, you can 
 dismiss at will colour, hardness, irresistibility, &c., but- 
 you cannot possibly think away space. In like manner 
 you will find space to be included in all our intuitions 
 of external objects, of which it is the form or condition 
 a priori. In like manner, time is the formal con- 
 dition, or sine qud non, of all appearances whatever, 
 for we cannot think of any thought or event which 
 does not take place in time. 
 
 As time and place which, however general they seem,
 
 at Jena. 
 
 must nevertheless not be considered as general ideas 
 (to use our scandalously incorrect phraseology) are 
 a priori intuitions grounding all a posteriori intuitions 
 (i.e. sensations of experience), so all our conceptions (or 
 general ideas) must be grounded by a priori conceptions, 
 which conceptions are grounded on the nature of the 
 human mind and its laws of thinking. The philosophy 
 which shows how these a priori conceptions and intui- 
 tions are the basis of all knowledge is called the 
 Transcendental (or, if you will, the high-flying) Philo- 
 sophy. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 1. Experience gives us the materials of knowledge, 
 of which the form lies in the mind. 
 
 2. Consciousness is the ultimate source of all our 
 notions, beyond which we cannot go, for we cannot 
 step out of ourselves. This consciousness, when the 
 subject of our thoughts, teaches us that we have a 
 primitive productive faculty : imagination, whence every- 
 thing is derived ; sense, which opens to us the external 
 world ; understanding, which brings to rule the objects 
 of sense ; and further, reason, which goes beyond all 
 sense and all experience a faculty by which we attain 
 ideas. (You know already the difference between idea 
 and thought, &c.) 
 
 3. (And here I beg you to be very attentive, for I 
 enter on a new topic, which I have hitherto not 
 ventured to introduce.) There is in man a perpetual 
 conflict between his reason and his understanding, 
 whence all philosophical disputes arise, and which a 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Kant's 
 philosophy.
 
 144 
 
 Studies 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 
 1802. 
 
 Kant's 
 
 philosophy. 
 
 critical investigation of the mind alone can solve. 
 These disputes are of the following nature : The reason 
 postulates a vast number of truths which the under- 
 standing in vain strives to comprehend. Hence the 
 antinomies of pure reason. Hence it is easy to 
 demonstrate the eternity and non-eternity of the world 
 the being and no-being of God the existence and 
 non-existence of a free principle. Kant has placed 
 these contradictory demonstrations in opposition, and 
 gave, more than twenty years ago, a public defiance 
 to the whole philosophical world to detect a flaw in 
 either side of these contradictory demonstrations : and 
 no one has yet accepted the challenge. And the solution 
 of the riddle is 
 
 All these ideas, as ideas, have their foundation in the 
 nature of the mind, and as such we cannot shake them 
 off. But whether these ideas out of the mind have any 
 reality whatever, the mind itself can never know ; and 
 the result is not scepticism, which is uncertainty but 
 the certainty of our necessary and inevitable ignorance. 
 And here speculative reason has performed its task. 
 But now a second principle is started by Kant. This 
 is practical reason. 
 
 Kant proceeds on the same experimental basis of 
 consciousness, and grounds all his moral philosophy 
 on the fact that we are conscious of a certain moral 
 feeling / ought. Kant will not reason with him who 
 disputes this fact, and excludes such an one from the 
 rank of a rational and moral agent. 
 
 But the idea / ought includes in it / can ; and as 
 
 
 
 speculative reason is quite neutral on all these ultimate
 
 at Jena. 
 
 145 
 
 points of absolute knowledge, practical reason on this 
 basis, weak as it seems, raises the vast structure of 
 moral philosophy and religion. And the want of know- 
 ledge is supplied by faitli, but a faith that is necessary, 
 and, to an honest sound mind, irresistible. Its objects 
 are God, immortality, and freedom notions which all 
 unsophisticated minds readily embrace, which a certain 
 degree of reason destroys, but which, according to 
 Kant, reason in its consistent application shall restore 
 again to universal acceptance. 
 
 The seeming scepticism of the great results of spe- 
 culative reasoning is favourable to the interests of 
 religion and morality by keeping the coasts clear, 
 cannot, says Kant, demonstrate the being of God, nor 
 you his non-existence. But my moral principle the 
 fact that I am conscious of a moral law is a something 
 against which you have nothing. This, as respects the 
 first principle of morals and religion, and the reality and 
 foundation of human knowledge, is the essence of the 
 Kantian philosophy. 
 
 Of the numerous students with whom my University 
 life brought me into contact I shall not speak in detail ; 
 but I must say something about the student life, of 
 which exaggerated accounts are current. In spite of 
 the wildness and even coarseness of manners too 
 generally prevalent, and though I was too advanced in 
 age to be more than a looker-on at their amusements, 
 yet I conceived quite an affection for the class. I 
 thought I had never seen young men combining so 
 many excellences of head and heart. Nearly all the 
 VOL. I. L 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Kant's 
 
 philosophy* 
 
 Student 
 life.
 
 146 
 
 Germ'an Students. 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Students 
 festivals. 
 
 undergraduates belonged to societies which were called 
 Landsmannschaften these Landsmannschaften being 
 formed of the natives of separate countries or districts. 
 Each held an occasional festival, called a Commers, to 
 which it was a great privilege for an outsider to be 
 admitted. I was never present at more than two. The 
 first was with the Rheinlander generally speaking, a 
 warm-hearted, rough set. At these meetings only beer 
 was drunk, but there was a great deal of smoking. 
 There was, however, no excess to signify. Many 
 Burschenlieder (student songs) were sung, some earnest, 
 others jocular ; but a gross song I never heard from a 
 student, either here or elsewhere. Among the frequent 
 practices was that of Schmollis trinken, which consisted 
 in knocking glasses together, drinking healths, and kiss- 
 ing each other. After this the parties became Dutz- 
 bruder, that is, instead of greeting each other in the 
 ordinary way by the third person plural, they made use 
 of " thou ; " and it was a legitimate cause of duel if, 
 after Schmollis trinken, " Sie " was used instead of 
 " Du." As I had drunk with scores of these Rhein- 
 lander, I used, in order to avoid all occasion of quarrel, 
 when I met any one of them to say, " Wie gehts ? " 
 (How does it go?), instead of "How do you do?" 
 which might be expressed in two ways. The only 
 other grand Commers which I attended was with the 
 Curlander. A Curland nobleman, a very young man, 
 brought with him to the chief inn of Jena, where he 
 stayed two days, an English lady, whom he represented 
 as his wife. He had among the students personal 
 friends, whom he invited to his inn. He was said to be a
 
 The Liefldnder and Curlander. 
 
 lieutenant-colonel in the English service ; at all events 
 he was an Englishman in heart, had the Anglomania in 
 the highest degree, and for this reason invited me to 
 join his party. His companion was young and very 
 pretty, and as wild as a colt ; and as she knew no 
 language but English, she constantly applied to me to 
 interpret the cause of the merriment which was going 
 on no slight task. In honour of this gentleman a 
 grand Commers was given, which made me intimate 
 with the Curland body. 
 
 It is a remarkable circumstance that the two bodies 
 of students most opposed to each other in appearance 
 and manners were both subjects of the Russian Empire 
 the Lieflander* and the Curlander. 
 
 The former were the petits maitres they dressed 
 more smartly than any others, and were remarkably 
 precise in their speech. Their German was said to be 
 ultra-correct. The Curlander were the heartiest and 
 most generous of youths, not superior in ability or 
 scholarship, but among the most amiable. I find 
 among my memoranda thirty-three Stammblatter 
 (album-leaves) of engraved and ornamented paper 
 signed by Curlander alone. It is the practice of 
 students on leaving the University to exchange these 
 tokens of remembrance. Those to which I have 
 referred have revived tender feelings, but on looking 
 over them I feel the truth and force of the words which 
 fell from Madame de Stae'l on one occasion when I was 
 with her. Goethe's son, a lad, called on her and pre- 
 sented to her his Stammbuch. When she had bowed 
 
 * From Liefland or Livland, Livonia. 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Russian 
 
 students at 
 
 Jena. 
 
 Stammbuch 
 
 and 
 
 Madame de 
 Stael. 
 
 L 2
 
 148 
 
 German Students. 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Students 
 duels. 
 
 him out of the room she threw the book on the sofa, 
 and exclaimed, " Je n'aime pas ces tables mortuaires ! " 
 Mortuary tables indeed they are. On one of those 
 which I possess is written, "I shall never forget you, 
 and I expect the same from you." But not even this 
 memorial brings the writer to my mind. 
 
 An account of a German University would be very 
 imperfect without some mention of duels, which, from 
 the great exaggerations generally circulated, have 
 brought more reproach than is deserved. Generally 
 speaking, they are harmless. Very few indeed are the 
 instances in which they are fatal, and not often is any 
 serious injury inflicted. I knew of only one case of the 
 kind ; it was that of a student who had received a 
 wound in the breast, from which he said he should never 
 cease to feel the effects. 
 
 Schelling said from the rostrum, " He that dares not 
 boldly on occasion set his life at stake and play with it 
 as with a top, is unquestionably one who is by nature 
 unable tp enjoy it, or even possess it in its highest 
 vigour" a hint which it is true was not wanted here, 
 as in the course of the last six months near a hundred 
 duels were fought. 
 
 At Jena the weapon used was the rapier, which with 
 its three edges has certainly a murderous appearance ; 
 but honour is satisfied if a triangle appears in the flesh ; 
 a very slight wound is sufficient for that, and great care 
 is taken that nothing more serious shall be inflicted. 
 The combatants are made to stand at a distance from 
 each other, and two seconds lie on the ground with 
 sticks to interpose the moment their principals press too
 
 Duels. 
 
 149 
 
 near. Thus A B. A and B are the duellists, and 
 
 D 
 
 C D the seconds, who beat down the swords when a 
 wound is likely to be dangerous. In ninety-nine cases 
 out of a hundred a flesh wound on the arm is all. that is 
 given. As the issue is usually so unimportant, a very 
 slight offence is considered a sufficient cause for fight- 
 ing. There is a code of honour among the students 
 which might be derived from Touchstone's famous code 
 as to giving the lie. For instance, if A says of anything 
 that B says " Das ist comisch " (that is comical) 
 that is a Touche an offence which B must notice, or A 
 has the "advantage " (Avantage) of him. Or if A says, 
 " It's a fine day, upon my honour," and B says, " Upon 
 my honour it's a dull day " that's a Touche, for here the 
 honour of one of two Burschen is in imminent peril. 
 But it is not to be supposed that a fight can take place 
 per saltum. Wherever a Touche has been received, the 
 party sends his friend to the opponent's room with a 
 Ziegenhainer (a stick cut from a neighbouring wood),* 
 who, without pulling off his hat, asks what was meant. 
 If the supposed offender says, "I meant nothing," or "No 
 offence was intended," the affair is over ; but a Bursch 
 who is jealous of his honour, though he actually did 
 mean nothing, is ashamed to say so, and then the usual 
 answer is, " He may take it as he likes." Thereupon 
 the second says, " A desires me to tell you that you are 
 a dummer Junge, or a dummer Kerl;" that is, "You 
 
 * This wood, Ziegenhain, was celebrated for the knotted sticks cut from a 
 kind of cherry-tree (Corneliuskirschen). 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Students 
 duels.
 
 ISO 
 
 Dttels. 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Students' 
 duels. 
 
 are an ass or a fool," or, as we should say in England, 
 "You are no gentleman." This is the offence which 
 blood alone can redress. But then, as I said before, it 
 is only arm blood, not heart's blood. During my stay 
 at Jena, it never happened but once that a man came 
 to my rooms with a Ziegenhainer. The student who 
 came was a sensible fellow, who volunteered in order to 
 prevent a silly young fellow sending as great a fool as 
 himself. The messenger threw down his stick and his 
 hat, and burst out laughing ; but very gravely took 
 back my answer that I meant nothing. The sender was 
 a young Hessian nobleman, and from that time I 
 refused to speak to him. 
 
 On one occasion I was myself present when, in a 
 beautiful and romantic valley a few miles from Jena, 
 some half-dozen duels were fought with due solemnity, 
 including one intermediate duel, which arose in this 
 way : A wound having been received, one of the seconds 
 cried out, " A triangle, on my honour." " No triangle, on 
 my honour," answered the other. On this the seconds, 
 sans phrase, stripped and fought, and the result being 
 in favour of him who said " A triangle," his view of the 
 matter was held to be established, and all four became 
 as good friends as ever. It is to be understood that in 
 these cases the parties still consider each other friends, 
 though etiquette does not allow intercourse between 
 them till the Ehrensache (affair of honour) is decided. 
 
 To connect great matters with small, as we con- 
 stantly find them in human life, these duels in the 
 Rauhthal had eventually a mighty effect on the fate 
 of Europe. For in the famous campaign of 1806,
 
 Chladni. 
 
 Buonaparte having heard that there was a colonel in 
 his army who had been a student at Jena, and fore- 
 seeing that Jena would be the seat of war, sent for him ; 
 and he rendered most important service. Buonaparte 
 held the town, and on the high ground between it and 
 Weimar was the Prussian army. The colonel led the 
 troops through the Rauhthal, which he probably be- 
 came acquainted with from fighting or witnessing duels 
 there. The Prussians were taken in the rear, and this 
 movement contributed to a victory which for six years 
 kept Germany in subjection to France. 
 
 During my stay at Jena I had the opportunity of 
 seeing a man of science whose name I have never 
 heard in England, but who is mentioned with honour 
 in the " Conversations Lexicon " Chladni, the inventor 
 of a musical instrument called the Clavi-cylinder, and 
 the author of a work on the theory of sound.* He 
 travelled in Germany, Italy, and France in order to 
 make known both his instrument and his theory. All 
 I recollect is some curious experiments intended to 
 show the relation between vibration and form. A plate 
 of glass was thinly strewn with sand, the string of a 
 fiddlestick was drawn across the side of the plate, and 
 instantly the sand flew to certain parts, forming figures 
 which had been previously described. 
 
 * His name is repeatedly mentioned in Professor Tyndall's work "On 
 Sound," where this very experiment is referred to. 
 
 CHAP. vi. 
 1802. 
 
 Chladni.
 
 152 
 
 The Weimar Theatre, 
 
 CHAP. vn. 
 1803. 
 
 Schiller s 
 
 Bride 
 of Messina. 
 
 Goethe's 
 drama, 
 
 The 
 
 Natural 
 Daughter. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 GERMANY. 1803. 
 
 ON March 2Oth, 1803, I attended the first performance 
 of Schiller's tragedy of " Die Braut von Messina." A 
 visit to the Weimar Theatre was the occasional treat 
 of the Jena students. The distance (from seven to ten 
 miles) was such as to allow those young men who had 
 more strength in their limbs than money in their purses, 
 to walk to Weimar and back on the same day. This 
 I have done repeatedly, returning after the play was 
 over. " The Bride of Messina " was an experiment by 
 the great dramatist, and it certainly did not succeed, 
 inasmuch as it led to no imitations, unless the represen- 
 tations of "Antigone " a few years since, both in Germany 
 and England, may be traced to it. In this tragedy 
 Schiller introduced choruses, after the fashion of the 
 ancients. The bride had two lovers, who were her 
 brothers ; the catastrophe is as frightful as the incidents 
 are horrible. The double chorus sometimes exchanged 
 short epigrammatic speeches, and sometimes uttered 
 tragic declamations in lyric measure. I was deeply 
 impressed, and wrote to my brother that this tragedy 
 surpassed all Schiller's former works. But this feeling 
 must have been caught from my companions, for it did 
 not remain. 
 
 It must, too, have been about this time that Goethe 
 brought out one of the most beautiful, though not
 
 Goethe and Sc] tiller. 
 
 153 
 
 the most popular, of his dramas, " The Natural 
 Daughter" a play meant to be the first of three in 
 which he was to give a poetic view of his own ideas 
 on the great social questions of the day. Eugenia, 
 the well-born, is condemned to make an ignoble 
 marriage for reasons which are left unexplained ; 
 otherwise she is to be consigned to a barren rock. 
 The lawyer to whom she is to be married is repre- 
 sented as a worthy man, whom she respects. When 
 she gives her consent, she exacts from him a promise 
 that he will leave her mistress of her actions, and not 
 intrude on her solitude. With her words "To the 
 altar," the curtain drops. Herder professed a high 
 admiration of the piece, but it is utterly unfit for 
 a large audience. The character of Eugenia was 
 beautifully represented by Jagermann, who combined 
 dignity and grace. On my complimenting her on the 
 performance she said, " If I played the part well it was 
 by chance, for I do not understand the character." 
 
 She would not have said this of another character 
 in which I beheld her, though I do not precisely 
 recollect at what time. I refer to Schiller's " Jungfrau 
 von Orleans," which came out in 1801. A glorious 
 work ! It was well remarked by Hofrath Jung of 
 Mainz, that the characteristics of French and German 
 literature were well exemplified by the name and the 
 quality of the " Virgin of Orleans " by Schiller and " La 
 Pucelle d'Orle"ans " by Voltaire. Jagermann recited 
 with great effect the lyrical passages, both when the 
 inspiration seizes Joan, and the heroic conclusion. I 
 suppose it is because the English make such a bad 
 
 CHAP. vii. 
 1803. 
 
 Schiller's 
 Maid of 
 Orleans.
 
 154 
 
 Lessing. 
 
 CHAP. vii. 
 1803. 
 
 Lessing s 
 
 Nathan der 
 
 Weise. 
 
 Herder. 
 
 figure in this tragedy that it has never been intro- 
 duced on our own stage. 
 
 One other dramatic recollection I may mention. 
 I saw at Weimar Lessing's " Nathan der Weise." The 
 author pronounced a blessing on the town which 
 should first dare to exhibit it to the world. He thought 
 the lesson of tolerance would not be learned for 
 generations. The play was adapted to the stage by 
 Schiller, and the greatest actor of the day came to 
 Weimar to perform the part of Nathan. Never 
 probably, in any language, was the noble and be- 
 nignant Jew more impressively represented than by 
 Iffland. But the work has no dramatic worth. All 
 one recollects of it is the tale of the rings, which was 
 borrowed from Boccaccio. 
 
 I went to Weimar twice in the beginning of 1803, 
 to visit Herder. What I had previously seen of him 
 made me feel that in spite of his eminence there were 
 many points of agreement in matters of taste and 
 sentiment, and caused me to approach him with 
 affection as well as fear. I lent him Wordsworth's 
 " Lyrical Ballads," my love for which was in no respect 
 diminished by my attachment to the German school 
 of poetry. I found that Herder agreed with Wordsworth 
 as to poetical language. Indeed Wordsworth's notions 
 on that subject are quite German. There was also 
 a general sympathy between the two in matters of 
 morality and religion. Herder manifested a strong 
 feeling of antipathy to the new anti-supernatural 
 school of Paulus. With all his habitual tolerance, he 
 could hardly bear with the Jena professor, or with
 
 Herder. Paulus. 
 
 155 
 
 the Government which permitted such latitudinarian- 
 ism. Yet he was attached to Wieland personally, 
 who was certainly no Christian. Herder was also 
 tolerant towards anti-Christian writers of past gene- 
 rations. He was a warm admirer of Shaftesbury, of 
 whom the worst he had to say was that he wrote 
 like a lord. His repugnance to some of Goethe's 
 writings was perhaps still stronger than to those of 
 Paulus ; and he reprobated with especial warmth " Die 
 Braut von Corinth," and " Der Gott und die Bajadere." 
 Though in some respects the anti-supernatural pro- 
 fessor was as opposite as possible to the poetic and 
 anti-metaphysical divine, yet they were in sympathy 
 in their hostility to the modern German philosophy 
 of the Kantian and post-Kantian schools. 
 
 Of Paulus I myself had some personal knowledge. 
 Notwithstanding his well-known opinions, he was one of 
 the regular theological professors and members of the 
 senate in the University of Jena. In the following 
 year he was invited by the Catholic King of Bavaria to 
 the University of Wiirzburg. No wonder, it may be 
 thought, for that would be an effectual mode of damaging 
 the Protestant Church. But he did not long remain 
 under a Roman Catholic government, for he was soon 
 called to occupy a high place in the University of Hei- 
 delberg. He was a laborious scholar and a very efficient 
 teacher, and always respected for his zeal and activity. 
 During the present session he lectured on the Epistles of 
 St. Paul, and on Dogmatic Theology, and held every 
 Saturday a theological conversation. I went one day 
 as a visitor to hear his lecture, and having already re- 
 
 CHAP. vii. 
 1803. 
 
 Paulus.
 
 156 
 
 Paulus. 
 
 CHAP. vir. 
 1803. 
 
 Who is a 
 Christian ? 
 
 ceived some kindness from him, ventured to call on him 
 afterwards, when the following conversation took place. 
 Referring to the lecture I had heard, I said, "Herr 
 Geheimer-Kirchen-Rath (Mr. Privy-Church-Counsellor), 
 will you oblige me by telling me whether I heard 
 you rightly in a remark I understood you to make ? 
 It was this that a man might altogether disbelieve 
 in miracle, and of course all prophecy and inspiration, 
 and yet be a Christian." His answer I distinctly recol- 
 lect : " Don't imagine, Mr. Robinson, that I mean any- 
 thing personally disrespectful when I say that that seems 
 to me a foolish question (eine dumme Frage)." " How ? 
 Is that possible ? " " Why, it implies that Christianity 
 may have something to do with inspiration, with pro- 
 phecy, or with miracle ; but it has nothing to do with 
 them. (Es hat nichts damit zu thun.)" 
 
 Paulus, when a young man, visited England, and had 
 corresponded with Geddes. He also told me that he 
 saw Dr. Parr, and had received letters from several of 
 the bishops ; but he said, " Your English theologians 
 did not much please me. I found but one man who 
 really interested me, and him I consider one of the 
 most excellent men I ever saw. This was Robert 
 Robinson of Cambridge ; with me he is the beau-ideal 
 of a Christian minister.* I loved him even for his weak- 
 nesses. With all his peculiarities, he was thoroughly 
 liberal. In his attachment to the Baptists there was 
 a union of child-like simplicity and kind-heartedness 
 that was quite charming." Paulus spoke of Priestley 
 as superstitious. 
 
 * Robinsoniana, by H. C. R., will be referred to in a later part of this work.
 
 A Walking Tour. 
 
 157 
 
 Griesbach, the famous Biblical scholar, was an older 
 and soberer man ; I visited him in his garden-house, 
 but have retained no particulars of his conversation. 
 
 Among those who held the office of Doctor docens 
 at Jena was one Kilian, who wrote as well as lectured 
 on a system of medicine. The proof sheet of the 
 preface was shown me, from which I extracted a sen- 
 tence to this effect : " The science of medicine does not 
 exist in order to cure diseases, but there are diseases in 
 order that there should be a science of medicine." In 
 the same book I was shown some verbal corrections 
 made by himself. Wherever he had written " God " he 
 struck it out and substituted " The Absolute." 
 
 Living at Jena, but neither as professor nor student, 
 was Gries, who afterwards acquired reputation as the 
 best translator in rhyme of the romantic poets. He 
 was chiefly known by his versions of Ariosto and Tasso, 
 but he also translated from the great Spanish dramatist 
 Calderon. 
 
 On the 4th of April I closed my academical term 
 by setting out student-fashion on a walking expedition, 
 and had between three and four weeks of high enjoy- 
 ment ; for which, indeed, nothing was requisite but 
 health, spirits, and good humour, all of which I pos- 
 sessed in abundance. I determined to take the oppor- 
 tunity of visiting Berlin, and on my way passed through 
 the University towns of Halle and Wittenberg. The 
 latter is known to every one as the place whence Luther 
 promulgated the Reformation. The town, however, with 
 its sunken University was disappointing ; but I still 
 retain a recollection of the portraits of Luther and 
 
 CHAP. vit. 
 
 1803. 
 Griesbach. 
 
 Kilian. 
 
 Gries. 
 
 A walking 
 tour.
 
 I 5 8 
 
 Berlin. 
 
 CHAP, vii, 
 1803. 
 
 Berlin. 
 
 Nicolai. 
 
 M elanchthon. Both of them lived and preached and are 
 buried here. Their monuments are very simple merely 
 a brass plate on the ground with the common inscription 
 of dates, and the two full-length portraits. The acute 
 and sarcastic countenance of the one, and the bull-like 
 head of the other, are strikingly contrasted. Mildness is 
 the recorded virtue of Melanchthon ; but had subtlety 
 and craft been his qualities, I should have thought the 
 portrait expressed them. 
 
 Berlin, as a city, gave me little pleasure. A city in 
 which the sovereign prince applies the revenues of the 
 state to the erection of opera-houses and palaces has 
 never been an agreeable object in my eyes. I hastened 
 on my arrival to deliver a letter of introduction to one 
 of the Berlin notabilities, and indeed one of the re- 
 markable men of the day. He is entitled to a grateful 
 notice from me for his generous hospitality ; and what I 
 have to say will not be altogether insignificant as illus- 
 trative of character. No one who has paid any atten- 
 tion to the German literature of the eighteenth century 
 can be ignorant of the name of Frederick Nicolai, the 
 Berlin publisher. And those who know of him merely 
 as the object of the satires of Goethe and Schiller, Tieck 
 and the Schlegels that is, of the most splendid writers 
 in Germany may be excused if they think of him as 
 little better than an ass. But as he would have greatly 
 erred who took his notion of Colley Gibber from Pope's 
 " Dunciad," so would they who fancied Nicolai to be the 
 arch Philistine of the authors of the "Xenien." The fact 
 is, that Nicolai was really a meritorious and useful man 
 in his younger days ; but he lived too long. He was
 
 Christoph Friedrich Nicolai. 
 
 159 
 
 neither more nor less than an active, clever fellow full 
 of enterprise in the pursuit of inferior objects which he 
 attained, but destitute of all sense of the higher and 
 nobler ends of science and literature. When I visited 
 him he was in his seventieth year. He had been 
 brought up by his father to the bookselling business, 
 and had received a learned education. Early in life he 
 became the friend of Lessing the most honoured name 
 of that age and of Moses Mendelssohn. In 1765 he 
 established the famous Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek 
 (Universal German Library), a review which was as 
 important in its day as, for so many years, our Monthly 
 Review was. But what that Review now appears to be in 
 comparison with the Edinburgh, the Quarterly, and some 
 others of a subsequent period, such is the Allgemeine 
 Deutsche Bibliothek compared with numerous works of 
 the modern German schools. When Lessing was gone, 
 Nicolai could not engage men of equal rank to supply 
 his place, and, unable to discern the signs of the times, 
 became the strenuous opponent of the moderns. When 
 age and youth commence a warfare, which is to last, 
 every one knows which will be the conqueror. " Denn 
 der Lebende hat recht," says Schiller (" For he who 
 lives is in the right "). Now, it unfortunately happened 
 that Nicolai ventured to oppose himself and that in 
 the very offensive form of coarse satire to the two 
 great schools of philosophy and poetry; of philosophy 
 in the persons of Kant and Fichte, and of poetry in the 
 person of Goethe. In a novel entitled " Leben und Mein- 
 ungen Sempronius Gundiberts," which he gave me, the 
 hero is a sort of metaphysical Quixote, who, on Kantian 
 
 CHAP. vn. 
 1803. 
 
 German 
 literature.
 
 i6o 
 
 Christoph Friedrich Nicolai. 
 
 CHAP. vii. 
 1803. 
 
 Nicolai s 
 satires. 
 
 principles, acts like a fool. Nicolai's best book, " Sebaldus 
 Nothanker" was translated into English by Button. 
 Nicolai also brought out a squib against the " Sorrows of 
 Werter," when at the height of popularity, and called it 
 " Werter's Joys." Werter's pistol-shot only wounds him 
 he recovers marries Charlotte and sustains the most 
 disgraceful calamity that can befall a husband. Many 
 years afterwards Nicolai wrote a clever play, in which 
 Kotzebue's "Stranger" and the hero of Goethe's "Stella" 
 are made to be the same, and the Stranger is represented 
 as compromising with his wife, receiving her back on con- 
 dition of her living with him in partnership with Stella. 
 Such was the Berlin publisher who attained a kind of 
 literary notoriety. I did not approach him with awe, 
 but I found him a most lively, active, and friendly man. 
 His conversation was without bitterness. I told him of 
 my fondness for some of the objects of his satire, which 
 did not seem to displease him. He was still editor of 
 a periodical, a small insignificant monthly magazine, 
 entitled Neue Berliner Monatschrift. A number, which 
 he placed in my hands, contained a very foolish paper 
 on the opinions of the English respecting the Germans 
 full of absurd, vulgar falsehoods about the English, 
 such as that they can sell their wives according to law 
 by taking them to market with a rope round their 
 necks, &c. Nicolai said, "Write me word what you 
 think of it ; " and so I did. It was my amusement on 
 my return to Jena ; and I own I was pleased to find, on 
 receiving a parcel from Berlin, that my answer was 
 printed in full without corrections, and with a compli- 
 mentary preface by the editor.
 
 Berlin. 
 
 161 
 
 While at Berlin I paid a visit to the Deaf and Dumb 
 Institution. Some of the pupils evinced so much per- 
 ception, that I might have supposed the deafness feigned 
 if there had been any motive for deception. They are 
 not all dumb, for many of them, by imitating certain 
 movements of the lips and tongue, can produce sounds 
 which they themselves do not hear, and thus make 
 themselves understood. In the dark, the pupils write on 
 each other's backs and feel the words. I observed that 
 one young man did not understand me so well as he did 
 others. The preceptor said my foreign manner Was 
 puzzling. 
 
 Next day I met a pupil in the street, who smiled and 
 took me by the hand, when this dialogue took place : 
 
 I said, " Which is the way to St. 's Church ? " He 
 
 made a flourish in the air with his hands, in imitation 
 of a cupola with a spire above. It was the form of the 
 church. I nodded assent. He pointed to a street, and 
 stretching out his right arm, struck it twice, with his left 
 hand ; then for the outstretched right arm substituted 
 the left, and finished by one stroke on the left arm with 
 the right hand. So that I at once understood that I had 
 to take the second turning to the right, and the first to 
 the left. Nothing could be clearer or more correct. 
 I shook hands with him at parting, and he appeared 
 delighted at his success in rendering me this little service. 
 
 I thought the Opera-house very splendid. I saw 
 there " The Island of Spirits," founded on Shakespeare's 
 " Tempest," with a skilful omission of everything beyond 
 the story that could recall the great dramatist to the 
 mind. Prospero's character was ruined by his appearing 
 VOL. I. M 
 
 CHAP. vii. 
 1803. 
 
 Deaf and 
 
 Dumb 
 Institution. 
 
 The Opera 
 
 and 
 Theatre.
 
 1 62 
 
 A Itenburg. 
 
 CHAP. vii. 
 1803. 
 
 Anton 
 Wall. 
 
 ;o be dependent on a spirit floating in the clouds, whose 
 aid he implores ; and Caliban was a sort of clown, un- 
 mercifully thrashed as the clown is in our pantomimes. 
 [ saw also a comic vaudeville, with jokes of a bolder 
 character than I should have expected. A dispute 
 arises about geography, and an old map being brought, 
 the remark that Germany and Poland are terribly torn 
 was warmly applauded. I saw Iffland in a sentimental 
 melodrama by Kotzebue " The Hussites before Naum- 
 Durg." He charmed me by his tender and dignified 
 representation of an old man. 
 
 The only occurrence on my way back to Jena worth 
 noting took place at the little town of Altenburg, where 
 I was asked at the inn whether I would not call on 
 Anton Wall. Now Anton Wall was the nom de guerre 
 of a writer of romances, in which he availed himself 
 of Oriental imagery and machinery with humour and 
 grace. Especially had his " Amatonda " pleased me.* 
 It is considered not an intrusion, but a compliment, at 
 all events by the minor writers, when a traveller calls 
 on an author. The singular habits of Anton Wall 
 might render such a visit peculiarly acceptable ; for, 
 though he did not pretend to be ill, he had literally 
 taken to his bed, and there in a garret had lived for 
 years. He had his books near, and dreamed away his 
 time, writing occasionally. I introduced myself as an 
 Englishman, and he was evidently flattered by finding 
 himself known to an Englishman. He inquired which of 
 his books I had read, and when I said "Amatonda," he 
 
 * Afterwards translated by H. C. R. Anton Wall is the nom de guerre of 
 Christian Leberecht Heyne.
 
 Anton Wall. 
 
 163 
 
 told me that the poetical brother was intended for Jean 
 Paul. This tale relates how a magician, dying, tells his 
 three nephews that the only way to secure happiness 
 is by finding the fairy Amatonda ; but he dies without 
 keeping his promise to any one of the three, that he 
 would tell them where she is to be found. The two 
 elder brothers set out in search of her. The eldest 
 fancies she must be glory, and becomes a warrior and 
 statesman ; but adversity overtakes him, and in old age 
 he returns to his uncle's house a cripple and in poverty. 
 On his way back he falls in with the second brother, who 
 had pursued the fairy in literary fame, and was equally 
 unsuccessful and wretched. They find the third brother 
 at home with a wife and children, and in the enjoyment 
 of the happiness of which they had gone forth in search. 
 He said to them, " I did not think it worth while to go 
 out of my way in pursuit of the fairy ; but she might 
 come to me, if she liked, and she did come. She made 
 her appearance to announce that the true Amatonda 
 is a good wife." With Anton Wall I had a long chat. 
 He was remarkably clean in his person, and there was 
 an air of neatness and comfort in his apartment, which 
 itself, though a garret, was spacious. He himself was 
 a compound of kindliness and vanity. It was thought 
 he was rather crazy, but he was universally liked. He 
 was fond of giving treats to little children ; and girls 
 used to come to him to receive lessons. In announcing 
 his " Bagatellen," Schlegel in his Athenceum says, 
 " These are genuine ' Bagatellen,' and that is not a 
 trifle," a compliment which Anton Wall heard from 
 me with satisfaction. 
 
 M 2 
 
 CHAP. vii. 
 
 1803. 
 Amatonda.
 
 164 
 
 Studies at Jena. 
 
 CHAP. vii. 
 1803. 
 
 Second ses- 
 sion at the 
 University. 
 
 I commenced my second session at the University of 
 Jena much more auspiciously than the first. My position 
 was very much improved, and I was in excellent health 
 and spirits. As to my studies, I determined to en- 
 deavour to make up for my want of an early grammar- 
 school education. It is not without a feeling of melan- 
 choly that I recollect the long list of Greek and Latin 
 authors whom I read during the next two years.* 
 That I never mastered the Greek language is certain ; 
 but I am unwilling to suppose that I did not gain some 
 insight into the genius of Greek poetry, especially in its 
 connection with philosophy.-}- 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS BROTHER. 
 
 Jena, June 2nd, 1803. 
 
 Dear Thomas, 
 
 . ..... I have changed my lodgings, 
 
 and have at present one of the best in the town. My 
 sitting-room has four sash-windows opening into a 
 beautiful walk of lime-trees, and affording a fine hilly 
 prospect. Now, too, that spring is come, I find Jena 
 one of the most beautiful spots I ever dwelt in. It 
 stands in the centre of a valley of more than fifteen 
 miles along the Saale, which in its course has many a 
 picturesque winding, and passes through many pleasing 
 villages. I have likewise remarked in myself two very 
 happy changes. The one is that I can amuse myself 
 without suffering ennui in mixed society, and that I 
 
 * The list includes the principal authors in both languages, 
 t Private lessons from an old student cost me three dollars six groschen for 
 two months.
 
 Schelling. 
 
 165 
 
 have lost that eager thirst after new books which is 
 rather a disease than a passion. I can now take a walk 
 without a book in my pocket, and can be at ease if I do 
 not find on my desk a new, unread publication.* . . . 
 I have introduced among the students games at leap- 
 frog and jumping over ditches ; and I attribute much of 
 my well-being now to these bodily exercises. In short, 
 I am without care and very lively, and withal by no 
 means idle. I write or study attentively eight hours 
 every day. 
 
 Notwithstanding my study of the ancient languages, 
 I attended a course of lectures by Schelling on 
 methodology ; and I fancied I had a glimpse of light 
 every now and then. He pointed out the relation of 
 the several sciences to one another, but dwelt chiefly on 
 religion and jurisprudence, and said but little of the 
 physical sciences. I will insert here a recollection, 
 which seems to me important, and the accuracy of 
 which was corroborated by one who ranks among those 
 who have advanced the philosophy of science, and 
 especially in connection with magnetism : I refer to 
 Dr. Neeff. Schelling said, " We are accustomed to con- 
 sider magnetism, electricity, and galvanism three distinct 
 sciences ; and in a certain sense they are, inasmuch as 
 the facts belonging to them are arranged in three 
 classes. But in truth the magnetic, electric, and 
 galvanic powers are only various forms of the same 
 thing ; and before many years have elapsed some 
 
 * At all events during the last forty years of his life, Mr. Robinson never 
 took a walk without a book in his pocket. 
 
 CHAP. VH. 
 1803. 
 
 Schelling.
 
 1 66 
 
 Voss. 
 
 CHAP, vn, 
 
 Schelling 
 on Bacon 
 
 and 
 Newton. 
 
 experimental naturalist will come forward and exhibit 
 visible proofs of this fact."* 
 
 I kept up my acquaintance with Schelling by occa- 
 sionally calling on him ; and, during one of my visits, 
 I ventured to remonstrate with him on the contemptuous 
 language he used respecting our great English authors, 
 even Bacon and Newton. He gave the best turn he 
 could to the subject by saying, " Because they are so 
 dangerous. The English empiricists are more consistent 
 than the French." (I doubt this, by the bye, so far as 
 Locke is concerned.) " There is Bacon, a man of vast 
 talents, but a most mischievous philosopher. He and 
 Newton may be regarded as the great enemies and de- 
 stroyers of philosophy in modern times. But," he added, 
 " it is no small matter to be able to do so much harm." 
 
 The name of Voss will have a lasting place in the 
 history of German literature. He is known and prized 
 as the greatest of German translators from the Greek. 
 Especially is his " Homer " considered a masterpiece. 
 To this he owes his fame. The one drawback on his 
 good name is the acrimony of his polemical writings. 
 He was an elderly man at the time I was introduced to 
 him in his person tall and thin, with a sharp nose, and 
 a sort of lanky figure a compound of subtlety and 
 
 * "In 1812 Oersted went to Germany, and whilst there he wrote his essay 
 on the Identity of Chemical and Electrical Forces, thus laying the foundation 
 for the subsequent identification of the forces of magnetism, electricity, and 
 galvanism. In 1819 he made the announcement of his great discovery of the 
 intimate relation existing between magnetism and electricity." Eng. Cyclop., 
 Article " Oersted." " Faraday read his first paper on Magneto-electric Induc- 
 tion before the Royal Society on the 2^ih Nov. 1831 ; " " his paper on Identity 
 of Electricities on Jan. loth and ijth, 1833, also before the Royal Society." 
 Faraday as a Discoverer, by John Tyndall.
 
 Voss. 
 
 167 
 
 naivete. He was living retired and quite domesticated. 
 He was the son of a Mecklenburg peasant, and used to 
 be called a " gelehrter Bauer " (a learned peasant). To 
 this circumstance some ascribed the absence of good 
 manners in controversy ; but I would rather ascribe a 
 great portion of it to his intense conscientiousness. He 
 was a rigidly virtuous man, and a Protestant ; and 
 seemed hardly able to tolerate any departure from what 
 he thought right and true. Roman Catholicism he 
 called Jesuitism. When his noble friends, the Counts 
 Stolberg, whom in his youth he must have deemed it a 
 high honour to know, went over to the Roman Catholic 
 Church, he treated the change as if it were hardly short 
 of a crime. Nor was he much better able to bear 
 difference of opinion on matters of taste. Hence his 
 furious disputes with Heyne, the learned Gottinger, and 
 (but that was later) with Creuzer, the mythologist. The 
 latter explained the Greek and Roman mythology, as 
 Voss thought, mystically. I was quite unable to make 
 him see the beauty of Dryden's exquisite translations 
 from Horace, such as the "Ode on Fortune." 
 Indeed, his love of English literature was nearly con- 
 fined to Shakespeare and Milton, of both of whom 
 he always spoke in high admiration. And he affirmed 
 that Milton might, had he pleased, have successfully 
 introduced hexameters into English poetry. 
 
 Voss's " Louisa " is the rival of " Hermann und 
 Dorothea," and has perhaps more admirers. He is 
 delicate in his descriptions, and paints and describes 
 nothing but the simple, the noble, the modest, and the 
 good. But this turn of mind, which prevents his being 
 
 CHAP. VH. 
 1803. 
 
 Voss's Pro- 
 testantism. 
 
 Voss's 
 Louisa.
 
 1 68 
 
 Wolf. 
 
 CHAP. vn. 
 1803. 
 
 Wolf. 
 
 Homer. 
 
 a great poet, makes him one of the best men imagin- 
 able. 
 
 It was understood that Voss's time for receiving 
 callers was after supper, and I frequently availed myself 
 of the opportunity of seeing him. For, with all his 
 infirmities of temper and his narrowness, there was in 
 him an integrity, a simplicity, a purity, which placed 
 him in the very first class of men combining great 
 mental power with the highest moral qualities ; and it 
 was no slight merit in my eyes, that he loved Goethe 
 and Wieland, notwithstanding the extreme difference 
 between his literary tastes and theirs. 
 
 I once saw at the house of Voss the accomplished 
 scholar Wolf, who had in Germany, in my time, as 
 high a reputation as at the same time Person had in 
 England. Wolfs commanding person and figure of 
 themselves attracted attention to him. His friendship 
 with Voss was cemented by their united opposition to 
 Heyne. Voss told me that he and Wolf used to 
 dispute which owed most to Heyne. Both had been 
 his pupils ; one had subscribed to two courses of 
 lectures, and heard a single lecture, the other had 
 subscribed to only one course, and had heard three 
 lectures. Voss's attachment to Wolf may be regarded 
 as a great and rare act of liberality, seeing that he 
 altogether dissented from Wolfs theory concerning 
 Homer. Voss used to say, " It would be a greater 
 miracle had there been many Homers, than it is that 
 there was one." On the other hand, Goethe has an 
 epigram in which he gives the health of him who freed 
 the poets from the tyranny of the single-one, with
 
 Voss. 
 
 169 
 
 whom no one would dare to contend ; " but to be one 
 of the Homeridae is beautiful." This he said in allusion 
 to his own " Achilleis," a continuation of the " Iliad." 
 
 Wolf frequently said good things. I heard Voss 
 relate this mot of his against Meiners. He quoted 
 some Latin book of Meiners', " Minertis de," &c., and 
 remarked, it would have been better if the learned pro- 
 fessor had written "Minertii de," but he always through 
 life thought proper to decline himself according to iners. 
 
 When Madame de Stael came to Weimar, Voss was 
 told that she wished to see him. He coolly replied that 
 she might come. But she would have been sadly per- 
 plexed if she had taken him at his word ; for he would 
 not have spoken French to her. He was indignant 
 at the homage paid to foreigners by speaking their 
 language. " I should think it my duty," he said, " to 
 learn French before I went to France. The French 
 should do the same." 
 
 Out of his own peculiar line of philological and 
 archaeological study, he was not a man of great acute- 
 ness. When his poetical works were reviewed by Goethe 
 in the Jena Literarische Zeitung, I was afraid he would 
 take offence at what seemed to me some awkward 
 compliments. For example, " While other poets raise to 
 themselves the objects they describe, our amiable author 
 descends to their level and becomes one of them." 
 Goethe was speaking of the Idyllists, the class to whom 
 Voss belonged. But my apprehension proved to be 
 groundless. Goethe praised affectionately, picking out 
 excellences and passing over defects, after his fashion, 
 and Voss was well pleased. His " Louisa " is certainly 
 
 CHAP. vii. 
 1803. 
 
 Madame de 
 Stael. 
 
 Voss.
 
 I/O 
 
 Jacobi. 
 
 CHAP. vii. 
 1803. 
 
 Jacobi. 
 
 The New 
 Year. 
 
 a masterpiece, though I cannot but think Wordsworth 
 greatly mistaken in prizing it more highly than 
 " Hermann und Dorothea." 
 
 In the same house I once met the famous philosopher 
 Frederick Jacobi, with whose personal dignity and 
 beauty I was much struck. He was, take him for all in 
 all, one of the handsomest men I ever saw. He was 
 greatly respected. I should have said universally, but 
 for the odium he incurred from the Romanist party. 
 
 He spoke with great respect of my friend Fries, and 
 said, " If he be a Kantianer, so am I." Jacobi is at the 
 head of a school of thought which has attracted men of 
 feeling and imagination, but which men of a dry and 
 logical turn have considered a corruption of philosophy. 
 Yet opposed as he was to the critical philosophy on 
 account of its dryness, and to the poets for their 
 supposed want of religion, he was to no one's taste 
 precisely. Some accused him of intolerance. But I 
 believe it lay in his warm style, rather than in his heart. 
 Goethe, however, seemed never to be quite reconciled 
 to his way of showing religious zeal. 
 
 At the beginning of session 1803-4, the list of Jena 
 professors showed a serious loss, no less than seven 
 having left, including Schelling, Tennemann, Paulus, 
 and Hufeland, a distinguished jurist. But another loss, 
 which soon followed, affected me personally still more. 
 It arose out of the New Year festivities. 
 
 It is a custom at Jena, as at other German Uni- 
 versities, to celebrate the New Year by a midnight 
 frolic. The Burschen assemble in the market-place, and, 
 when the town-clock strikes twelve, they shout a pereat
 
 Jena Burschen. 
 
 171 
 
 to the Old Year, and a vivat to the New. Like base 
 and disgraceful sycophants, they forget the good and 
 exaggerate the evil the departed year may have 
 brought, and dismiss it without ceremony to the shades. 
 They then hail the new-comer with the complimentary 
 salutation, " Das neue Jahr soil leben ! " as we should 
 say, " The New Year for ever ! " Squibs and crackers 
 frequently accompany this celebration. Now it is 
 obvious that the darkness of night and the excitement 
 arising from the Commerse which have probably taken 
 place, are not unlikely to lead to more or less rioting, 
 especially if during the year offence have been given to 
 influential Burschen. The previous year about thirty 
 houses had their windows broken without resistance, or 
 subsequent notice by the authorities. On the present 
 occasion I did not anticipate any disturbance, and 
 therefore, after supping with the Curlander, retired to my 
 rooms before the stroke of the clock. Unluckily, how- 
 ever, a tradesman had given offence by sending a girl to 
 Bridewell, and a body of students showed their dis- 
 pleasure by breaking a few panes of glass at his house. 
 In an instant a number of hussars appeared, and a 
 skirmish arose, in which the students, few in number, 
 and these few more or less intoxicated, were driven out of 
 the market-place. The cry resounded, " Bursch heraus ! " 
 like the cry of " Gown against Town " at Cambridge, and 
 the students came again into the field. The Prorector, 
 who corresponds to the Cambridge Vice-Chancellor, was 
 called up, and the demand was made that a wounded 
 student who had been taken to the watch-house should 
 be set free. This was refused, and the hussars returned. 
 
 CHAP. vn. 
 1803. 
 
 Quarrel of 
 
 students 
 
 with town 
 
 authorities.
 
 Jena Burschen. 
 
 CHAP. vii. 
 1803. 
 
 Quarrel of 
 
 students 
 with town 
 authorities. 
 
 The affair was already bad enough, but the students 
 made it worse by a most indecorous memorial, which 
 they called a petition, and in which they demanded an 
 amnesty in behalf of the implicated students, compen- 
 sation for what was considered an insult in the calling 
 out of the military with fixed bayonets, and a pledge on 
 the part of the Government that on no occasion in future 
 should troops not garrisoned at Jena be sent from 
 Weimar. In case these demands were not complied 
 with, 204 students pledged themselves to leave the 
 University at Easter. Among the subscribers were the 
 Curlander, Rheinlander, and nearly all my personal 
 friends. I, being a sort of privileged person, was not 
 pressed for my name, though a blank was left for it. 
 On the part of the academical senate, the negotiation 
 was put into the hands of one who had no savoir faire. 
 The result was that conference served rather to widen 
 than to close the breach. Both parties secretly wished 
 for a reconciliation, for the professors were unwilling to 
 lose their pupils, and the students were aware that 
 nowhere else could they enjoy so many advantages at so 
 little expense ; and yet neither were prepared to make 
 the necessary concessions. Thinking myself perhaps a 
 suitable person to interpose, I called on seven of the 
 leading members of the senate. But meanwhile the 
 matter had been laid before the Duke, whose pride was 
 wounded by the insult offered to his soldiers ; and he 
 gave peremptory orders, which rendered all reconcilia- 
 tion impossible. I shall mention more in detail by-and- 
 by an application made by me to Goethe in behalf of 
 the students. It was of no avail.
 
 Madame eke Stael. 
 
 173 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 GERMANY. 1804. 
 
 THE prospect of losing so many friends was to me a 
 real sorrow, and I should have felt it still more deeply 
 had not my interest in University studies been weakened 
 by other pursuits, and especially by the very interesting 
 acquaintance which I formed in the month of January 
 (1804) with a lady who then enjoyed a European 
 reputation, and who will have a lasting place in the 
 history of French literature. I received a note from 
 Bottiger, the curious beginning of which is worth trans- 
 lating : " Madame de Stael, from whose lips flow spirit 
 and honeyed speech (Geist und Honigrede), wishes to 
 make your acquaintance, dearest Sir and Friend. She 
 longs for a philosophical conversation with you, and is now 
 busied with the Cahier (notes) on Schelling's ' ^Esthetics,' 
 which I possess through your kindness. She has, indeed, 
 translated some portions of them with admirable skill." 
 I was then requested to fix a day for dining with her. 
 I was delighted with this invitation, and knew how to 
 interpret Bottiger's flattering expressions in reference to 
 myself. He further begged me to draw up a sketch 
 of Schelling's "All-philosophia," as he termed it, adapted 
 to the Verstandswelt, i. e. the world of the ordinary 
 understanding and common sense as opposed to the 
 
 CHAP. vni. 
 
 1804. 
 
 Madame de 
 Stael.
 
 Madaflte dc Stael. 
 
 CHAP. vrii. 
 1804. 
 
 Madame de 
 Stael. 
 
 philosophical reason. With this request I complied, 
 not that I imagined myself competent to write a 
 sentence which would satisfy a German philosopher, but 
 I thought I might render some service to a French 
 lady, even though she were Madame de Stael. 
 
 On the 28th of January I first waited on her. I was 
 shown into her bedroom, for which, not knowing 
 Parisian customs, I was unprepared. She was sitting, 
 most decorously, in her bed, and writing. She had her 
 night-cap on, and her face was not made up for the day. 
 It was by no means a captivating spectacle, but I had a 
 very cordial reception, and two bright black eyes smiled 
 benignantly on me. After a warm expression of her 
 pleasure at making my acquaintance, she dismissed me 
 till three o'clock. On my return then I found a very 
 different person, the accomplished Frenchwoman sur- 
 rounded by admirers, some of whom were themselves 
 distinguished. Among them was the aged Wieland. 
 There was on this, and I believe on almost every other 
 occasion, but one lady among the guests : in this in- 
 stance Frau von Kalb. Madame de Stael did not affect 
 to conceal her preference for the society of men to that 
 of her own sex. If I mistake not, this dinner was 
 followed by five others during her short stay at Weimar ; 
 but my memoranda do not enable me to assign the 
 exact dates of the conversations to which I have now 
 to refer. 
 
 She said, " Buonaparte sent his Marshal to me " I 
 think it was Caulaincourt " to say that he would not 
 permit me to receive company ; that he knew I was his 
 enemy and that my house was open to all his enemies.
 
 The Duke of Weimar. 
 
 175 
 
 I might remain at Paris, if I liked, but I must live 
 alone. Now, you must be sensible that is impossible, 
 and therefore I set out on this journey. I do not think 
 it prudent to go to England at present. Buonaparte 
 pretended, and it was asserted by order in the Govern- 
 ment newspapers, that his displeasure with me was not 
 on account of himself, but because I was a partisan of 
 foreign literature, and therefore a depreciator of the 
 literary glory of France." This I may say, that she 
 had a laudable anxiety to obtain a knowledge of the 
 best German authors ; and for this reason she sought 
 my society, and I was not unwilling to be made use of 
 by her. She said, and the general remark is true, " The 
 English mind is in the middle between the German and 
 the French, and is a medium of communication between 
 them. I understand you better than I do any German 
 with whom I have ever spoken." But this, it must be 
 borne in mind, was at the beginning of her residence 
 in Germany, and long before her acquaintance with 
 August Wilhelm Schlegel. 
 
 One day after dinner the Duke came in. She in- 
 troduced me to him, saying, "J'ai voulu connaitre la 
 philosophic allemande ; j'ai frappe a la porte de tout le 
 monde Robinson seul 1'a ouverte." The day after she 
 said to me, " How like an Englishman you behaved 
 yesterday ! When the Duke came in you were in the 
 middle of a story, and after a slight interruption you 
 went on with it. No German would have dared to do 
 this. With a sovereign, it is always understood that he 
 is to begin every subject of conversation. The others 
 answer questions and follow." I replied, " I see I was 
 
 CHAP. viii. 
 
 1804. 
 
 Madame de 
 Stael. 
 
 The Duke 
 of Weimar.
 
 7 6 
 
 Madame de Stael. 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 Goethe's 
 Epigrams. 
 
 quite wrong I ought not to have gone on." " Perhaps 
 not ; but I was delighted with you for doing it." This 
 subject was introduced by her in connection with the 
 remark that she could at once see whether or not a 
 German was accustomed to good company, but not an 
 Englishman. Then she abruptly said, " Are you rich ? " 
 I at once felt that this was not a complimentary 
 question, especially so introduced, so I answered 
 evasively, " As you please to take it ; I am either a rich 
 man of letters, or a poor gentleman," and with that 
 she was content. She expressed her pleasure at the 
 manly and independent tone of my conversation with 
 the Duke, and her contempt for the servile habits of 
 some of the Germans. 
 
 When alone with her, it was my great aim to make 
 her feel the transcendent excellence of Goethe. But I 
 failed. She seemed utterly incapable of realizing 
 wherein his excellence lay. But she caught by sym- 
 pathy a portion of that admiration which every one felt 
 for him. Among those excellences which she was 
 unable to perceive was that of naivete. I read to her 
 some half-dozen of Goethe's most subtle and exqujsite 
 epigrams. That, for instance, in which, after lamenting 
 that his mistress having jilted him, and the Muses done 
 the same, he, because he could not write, peered about 
 for a halter or a knife. " But thou earnest," he concludes, 
 " to save me, Ennui ! Hail, Mother of the Muses ! " 
 Enumerating the fine arts which he practised, " Bringing 
 one only near to perfection," he says ; "and so, miserable 
 artist, I threw away my art on the worst of materials, 
 writing German ! " She could not comprehend these.
 
 Madame de Sta'cl. 
 
 177 
 
 She was precisely what Charles Lamb supposes all the 
 Scotch to be incapable of feeling a joke. Having 
 tried her with a number of these ironical epigrams, I 
 read a commonplace one against the German sovereigns 
 for speaking French at their courts. " See what comes 
 of it ? Your subjects are only too fond of talking 
 French," meaning French principles. This she thought 
 admirable, and took down. Her success in spoiling a 
 fine thing was strikingly shown in connection with a 
 noble saying of Kant, which I repeated to her : " There 
 are two things which, the more I contemplate them, the 
 more they fill my mind with admiration the starry 
 heavens above me, and the moral law within me." She 
 sprang up, exclaiming, "Ah, que cela est beau ! II faut 
 que je Pe"crive," and years after, in her " Allemagne," I 
 found it Frenchified thus : " Car, comme un philosophe 
 celebre a tres bien dit : Pour les cceurs sensibles, il y a 
 deux choses." The grave philosopher of Konigsberg 
 turned into a " cceur sensible ! " 
 
 It is very apparent from the correspondence of Goethe 
 and Schiller that these two great poets regarded her 
 visit to Weimar as an infliction. Schiller would not go 
 near her, and Goethe made himself scarce. There was 
 a report that she extorted from the latter, by some 
 advice on his "NatiirlicheTochter," this reply, "Madam, 
 I am more than sixty years old ! " But this is not 
 after his fashion. I know, however, that she did speak 
 irreverently of that masterly work, and provoked me 
 to the utterance of a very rude observation. I said, 
 " Madame, vous n'avez pas compris Goethe, et vous 
 ne le comprendrez jamais." Her eye flashed she 
 VOL. I. N 
 
 CHAP. vni. 
 1804. 
 
 Kant. 
 
 Schiller 
 
 and 
 Goethe.
 
 178 
 
 Madame de Stael. 
 
 CHAP, vnr 
 1804. 
 
 The 
 
 Bride of 
 Corinth. 
 
 stretched out her fine arm, of which she was justly 
 vain, and said in an emphatic tone, "Monsieur, je com- 
 prends tout ce qui merite d'etre compris ; ce que je 
 ne comprends n'est rien." I bowed lowly. This was 
 said at table. After dinner she gave me her hand very 
 kindly. " I was angry for a moment," she said, " but 
 it is all over now." I believe I owe the favour I 
 experienced from her to my perfect frankness, and even 
 freedom. 
 
 One day, in the presence of Bottiger and others, she 
 read a translation of that " Scheussliches Gedicht " (ac- 
 cording to Herder), the " Braut von Corinth." The most 
 material point indeed I might say \hefcccant point she 
 had not perceived, and therefore it was left out. When 
 she ceased there was a burst of praise from every one 
 but myself. " Et vous, Robinson, vous ne dites rien."- 
 " Madame, je m'occupe en pensant si vous avez compris 
 le veritable sens des mots." And then I read the words 
 significantly. Bottiger began, " Madame a parfaitement 
 rendu le vers." " Taisez-vous ! " she exclaimed, paused a 
 moment, and then, giving me her hand, said, "Vous tous 
 m'avez louee Robinson seul m'a corrigee ; Robinson, 
 je vous remercie." Yet she had pleasure in being com- 
 plimented, and took it as a sort of right, like a quit- 
 rent, not requiring thanks, but a receipt. I must even 
 quote one of the very few gallant speeches that I have 
 ever made. Before her journey to Berlin, her court- 
 dress for the King's birthday ball was produced at table 
 after dinner. It was highly extolled by the guests. She 
 noticed my silence. " Ah, vous, Robinson, vous ne dites 
 rien ? " " Madame," I said, in a tone of assumed gravity,
 
 The Duke of Weimar. 
 
 179 
 
 " vous etes un peu exige"ante. Je ne puis pas admirer 
 vous et votre robe au meme temps." "Ah que vous 
 etes aimable ! " she exclaimed, and gave me a smile, as 
 if she had said, " I know this means nothing, but then 
 these are the things we expect. You are really im- 
 proving." For English frankness, abstaining from all 
 compliment, had been my habit. 
 
 My irregular recollection takes me back to the day 
 when the Duke joined our party. She was very elo- 
 quent in her declamation, and chose as her topic an 
 image which she afterwards in her book quoted with 
 applause, but which, when I first mentioned it to her, 
 she could not comprehend. Schelling, in his " Method- 
 ology," calls Architecture "frozen music." This she 
 vehemently abused as absurd, and challenged me to 
 deny that she was right. Forced to say something, I 
 made my escape by a compliment. " I can't deny that 
 you have proved que votre esprit n'est pas gele."- 
 " Fort bien dit," the Duke exclaimed ; and certainly 
 any way of getting out of such a challenge was better 
 than accepting it. There has appeared since in English 
 a treatise on Greek Architecture bearing the significant 
 title, " The Music of the Eye." 
 
 I will conclude what I have to say of Madame de 
 Stael personally, before I notice her companions. After 
 some half-dozen dinners, and as many or more tete-a- 
 tetes, she went to Berlin, from which place she wrote 
 to me, proposing that I should remove to Berlin, take 
 a lodging in her neighbourhood, and be her constant 
 guest at table. She would introduce me to the literary 
 world at Berlin. This proposal was too advantageous 
 
 N 2 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 The Duke 
 of Weimar. 
 
 Proposal 
 that 
 
 H.C.R. 
 should go 
 to Berlin.
 
 i So 
 
 Benjamin Constant. 
 
 CHAP. vni. 
 1804. 
 
 Benjamin 
 Constant. 
 
 to be declined. Such an introduction would have 
 offered me probably more advantages than I could have 
 profitably made use of. I made up my mind to remove 
 in the summer. It was, therefore, with much sorrow that 
 I heard, first, of the death of her father, the minister 
 Necker, and then that she had arrived at Weimar, to 
 stay a few days on her way to Switzerland. I of course 
 waited on her. She was loud in her expression of grief 
 at the loss which she had sustained. But her feeling 
 was sincere. It would be judging uncandidly to infer 
 that she did not feel because she had leisure to be 
 eloquent. Among her declamatory bursts was this : 
 " Oh ! il n'etait pas mon pere. II etait mon frere, mon 
 fils, mon mari, mon Tout ! " 
 
 I will now refer to those with whom I became 
 acquainted through her, or whom I saw in her company. 
 Of these by far the most eminent was Benjamin 
 Constant. The slanderous world, at least in France, 
 has always affected to consider him her lover. In a 
 society so generally profligate as that of the Parisian 
 beau-monde, where the ascertained fact would be 
 scarcely a subject of blame, and where any expressed 
 doubt of the truth of the report would expose him who 
 dared utter it to contempt, no wonder that this amour 
 was taken for granted. It would never have occurred to 
 me. She appeared to be the elder, and called him " Mon 
 Benjamin," as she might have done a son or a younger 
 brother. He, on the contrary, never spoke of her lightly, 
 but always with respect as Madame de Stael. At her 
 table he occupied the place of the master of the house ; 
 he was quite the ami de la maison. The worst thing
 
 Benjamin Constant. 
 
 181 
 
 about him was that he was separated from his wife, to 
 whom it was said he had been a bad husband. He was 
 a declared enemy to Buonaparte, and was a member of the 
 Tribunat which Buonaparte abolished. After the Restora- 
 tion he became a distinguished member of the Legislative 
 Body. He was by birth a Swiss. As a man of letters 
 he was highly esteemed, and had a first-rate reputation 
 as a philosophical jurist. A zealous anti-Romanist, he 
 wrote on Christianity. I should call him rather a senti- 
 mental than a Bible Christian ; but I should not be 
 warranted in saying that he was an anti-supernaturalist. 
 A novel of his, " Adolphe," was said to favour free 
 opinions on marriage. I heard that he had translated 
 Godwin's " Political Justice," and inquired whether he 
 had really done so. He said he had made the trans- 
 lation, but had declined to publish it, because he thought 
 it might injure the good cause in the then state of 
 public opinion. Sooner or later, however, the work was 
 to be published, for he regarded the original as one of 
 the master-works of the age. In saying that his tone 
 towards Madame de Stae'l was respectful rather than 
 tender, I do not mean that it was deferential towards 
 her opinions. On the contrary, his opposition was 
 unsparing, and though he had not her colloquial 
 eloquence, I thought he had always the advantage of 
 her in argument. One remark on the French national 
 character was made by him, which is worth quoting. 
 I inquired whether Buonaparte really possessed the 
 affections of the French people. He said, " Certainly 
 not. But the French," he added, "are so vain, that they 
 cannot bear the insignificance of neutrality, and will 
 
 CHAP. viii. 
 1804. 
 
 God-win s 
 Political 
 Justice.
 
 1 82 
 
 Wieland. 
 
 CHAP, vni 
 1804. 
 
 Widand. 
 
 A. W. 
 Schlegel. 
 
 affect to belong to the triumphant party from an un- 
 willingness to confess that they belong to the conquered." 
 Hence Robespierre and Buonaparte have both, in their 
 respective times, had the tacit support of a nation 
 which in reality was not attached to either of them. 
 
 I have already said that Wieland was the most dis- 
 tinguished of Madame de StaeTs German visitors. He 
 was frequent in his attendance on her, and loud in his 
 admiration. One day, when she was declaiming with 
 her usual eloquence, he turned to me, and exclaimed, 
 " Dass ich, in meinem hohen Alter, solche eine Frau sehen 
 sollte ! " (That I, in my old age, should see such a 
 woman !) I had remarked to her that of all the 
 German great writers his mind was the most French. 
 " I am aware of it," she said, " and therefore I do not 
 think much of him. I like a German to be a German." 
 
 I, at the same time, told her that of all the then 
 eminent writers, the two Schlegels were those who 
 possessed in a high degree, and beyond all others, that 
 peculiar mental quality which the French call esprit, as 
 distinguished from genius, understanding, &c. ; and I 
 advised her to cultivate the acquaintance of A. W. 
 Schlegel, who was then at Berlin. She did what I 
 advised, and more ; she engaged A. W. Schlegel to 
 reside with her in the character of tutor to her children. 
 And, in fact, the knowledge she would obtain from him 
 was in every respect so superior to anything I could 
 communicate to her, that I take very little credit for 
 any part I may have had in supplying the materials of 
 her book. There, are indeed, many opinions in the book 
 which Schlegel probably would have protested against
 
 Johannes von Miillcr. 
 
 183 
 
 being thought to have suggested. Yet she said to me 
 years after, " You know very well that I could never 
 have written that book without the assistance of 
 Schlegel." But all that is best in that work, the section 
 on life and manners in Germany, came from herself alone. 
 
 Next to Wieland, the most eminent visitor whom I 
 recollect seeing at her table, was the famous Swiss 
 historian Johannes von Miiller of Schaffhausen. I saw 
 him frequently, and what I remarked in him deserves to 
 be noticed as bearing on his life and conduct in middle 
 age. He is the most illustrious of literary turncoats 
 on record, if he deserve that degrading character, 
 which possibly he does not. 
 
 When he first made himself known as a political 
 writer, he was librarian to the Elector of Mayence ; and 
 in that position he wrote, in 1782, a famous pamphlet on 
 the celebrated visit of the Pope to Joseph II. at Vienna. 
 In this pamphlet, entitled "Reisen der Pabste," he 
 represented the Papal power as exercised in favour of 
 popular liberty against the great military governments. 
 His next and still more famous pamphlet was the 
 " Fiirstenbund " (League of Princes), written in 1787, 
 and advocating the cause of the Princes of Germany 
 against the House of Austria. This was followed by 
 his entering into the service of the Emperor. In that 
 service he remained many years. During this time he 
 continued the great work on which his fame chiefly 
 rests, "The History of the Swiss League," which he 
 commenced when young, and which was, in fact, the 
 business of his life. On the subject of his connection 
 with the Austrian Government, I heard him say : " The 
 
 CHAP. viii. 
 1804. 
 
 Johannes 
 
 von 
 Miiller.
 
 1 84 
 
 Johannes von Midler. 
 
 CHAP. viii. 
 
 von 
 Miiller. 
 
 Government passed a law which was aimed at me 
 particularly. It was a prohibition of all subjects 
 printing any book out of the dominions of the Em- 
 peror. The moment this law was passed I made my 
 preparations for quitting Vienna. I began by sending 
 out of the country all my MSS. and my papers of 
 every description. I sent them in small parcels by 
 many persons, and not one was lost." When I saw him 
 at Weimar he was, as I learn from the " Conversations- 
 Lexicon," on his way to Berlin. He at this time entered 
 into the service of the King of Prussia. Yet my im- 
 pression was that the tone of his conversation was by 
 no means favourable to the Prussian Government. And 
 being, as he was, anti-French in his feelings, though 
 perfectly liberal in his political opinions, and a sturdy 
 Protestant, he might well be hostile to that fatal policy 
 which for a time made Prussia the ally of France, and 
 the tool of Buonaparte. After the fall of the Prussian 
 Government, Miiller went into the service of the King of 
 Westphalia, in which he died in 1809; and, as I heard, 
 stayed by his death proceedings against him for writings 
 in opposition to the Gallo-German Government to which 
 he belonged. Notwithstanding his having served so 
 many rulers of an opposite character, my impression, 
 from what I saw and heard of him, was, that he was 
 an honest and conscientious man, and that, like many 
 others who have incurred the reproach of inconsistency, 
 he acted on the maxim of doing all the good he could 
 in any station in which he might at the time be placed, 
 not hesitating to leave that station when he found 
 himself no longer able to do good in it.
 
 The Court of Weimar. 
 
 185 
 
 Miiller's German pronunciation was extremely dis- 
 agreeable. It was excessively Swiss, i.e. the guttural 
 sounds were exaggerated in it. His French, on the 
 contrary, was agreeable. 
 
 While he was at Weimar I witnessed the performance 
 of " Wilhelm Tell," when the following incident took place. 
 In the last act an occurrence is introduced for the sake 
 of a great moral contrast, though at variance equally 
 with history and dramatic unity. Parricida, the mur- 
 derer of the Emperor, is coming oa the stage, and the 
 murder is spoken of. On the evening to which I refer, 
 when Miiller was present, there was introduced, as I 
 understood for the first time, this passage : " How do 
 you know it ? " " It is certain ; a man worthy of credit, 
 Johannes Muller, brought it from Schaffhausen." The 
 name was pronounced aloud, and was followed by up- 
 roarious applause. It was talked of next day as a 
 joke. But in my edition the passage stands in the 
 text without any note. 
 
 At Madame de StaeTs house I first became acquainted 
 with several of the Weimar court, and so the way was 
 prepared for that introduction which in the following 
 winter became of some importance. My name was 
 known pretty generally. A prominent court lady was 
 Fraulein von Geckhausen, a shrewd lively little woman, 
 who noticed me obligingly. Since her death the gossip- 
 ing books speak of her as malignant and intriguing ; 
 for myself, however, I have none but agreeable recol- 
 lections of her. She read to me a short note to Madame 
 de Stael, in which the compliments seemed to me to 
 have an extravagance bordering on insincerity. I there- 
 
 CHAP. viii. 
 1804. 
 
 Schiller's 
 
 Wilhelm 
 
 Tell. 
 
 Court of 
 Weimar. 
 
 Fr&ulein 
 von Geck- 
 hausen.
 
 1 86 
 
 Schiller. 
 
 CHAP. viii. 
 
 1804. 
 
 Sckiller. 
 
 Goctlie. 
 
 fore ventured to say, " Do me the favour, Fraulein, to 
 read that in German." She began, stammered, and 
 stopped. " Das lasst sich nicht Deutsch sagen." (You 
 can't say that in German.) " I know you cannot ; shall 
 I tell you the reason why ? The German is an honest 
 language, and your German habits are honest. When, 
 therefore, you have anything to say of mere compliment, 
 which means nothing, you feel as you say, ' Das lasst 
 sich nicht Deutsch sagen.'" 
 
 In the present University session I saw a little of 
 Schiller, but not much. He had always the appearance 
 of being unwell. His amiable wife, and her very clever 
 sister, and indeed all those who were about him, 
 appeared to watch over him as an object of solicitude. 
 While the admiration excited by Goethe was accom- 
 panied by awe, that which was felt towards Schiller was 
 mixed with love and pity. I may here mention that at 
 the end of a very early, if not the first, performance of 
 "Die Braut von Messina," a young doctor, son of the 
 learned Professor Schulz, the philologer, rose in the pit 
 and exclaimed, " Schiller der grosse Dichter soil leben " 
 (Long live Schiller, the great poet) ! The numerous 
 students in the pit all joined in the cry, and there was 
 a regular three times three of applause. But this was 
 regarded as a great impropriety and breach of decorum 
 in the presence of the Duke and Duchess, and we heard 
 that young Schulz received a severe reproof from the 
 Government. 
 
 In March, 1804, I had a re-introduction, and not a 
 mere formal one, as the first was, to Goethe. It was at 
 the theatre. He was sitting in his arm-chair, in the
 
 Goethe. 
 
 187 
 
 front row of the pit. I had repeatedly taken a seat 
 near enough to him to have an occasional glimpse of his 
 countenance, but I never presented myself to his 
 notice. On the evening of which I write, I was sitting 
 immediately behind him. Benjamin Constant came in 
 with him, and after shaking hands with me, whispered my 
 name to Goethe, who immediately turned round, and with 
 a smile as ingratiating as his ordinary expression was 
 cold and forbidding, said, " Wissen Sie, Herr Robinson, 
 dass Sie mich beleidigt haben ?" (Do you know, Mr. 
 Robinson, that you have affronted me ?) " How is 
 that possible, Herr Geheimerath ?" "Why, you have 
 visited every one at Weimar excepting me." I felt that 
 I blushed, as I said, " You may imagine any cause, Herr 
 Geheimerath, but want of reverence." He smiled and 
 said, " I shall be happy to see you at any time." I left 
 my card, of course, the next morning, and the next day 
 there came an invitation to dinner ; and I dined with 
 him several times before I left the neighbourhood of 
 Weimar. 
 
 It was, I believe, on the very evening on which he 
 spoke to me in the theatre, that I asked him whether he 
 was acquainted with our " Venice Preserved. " " Oh, 
 very well the comic scenes are particularly good." I 
 actually started at so strange a judgment " Indeed ! in 
 England those scenes are considered so very bad, that 
 they are never acted." " I can understand that ; and 
 yet, on reflection, you will perceive that those scenes are 
 quite essential to the piece. It is they alone which 
 account for, and go near to justify, the conspiracy ; for 
 we see in them how utterly unfit for government the 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 Goethe on 
 
 yen ice 
 
 Preserved.
 
 1 88 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 Dinner at 
 Goethe's. 
 
 Sakontala. 
 
 Senate had become." I recognized at once the truth of 
 the criticism, and felt ashamed of myself for not having 
 thought of it before. In all his conversation he spoke 
 in the most simple and unpretending manner, but there 
 was in it remarkable significance, a quiet strength, a 
 power without effort, reminding me of what I read of a 
 painting, in which a man was wrestling with an angel. 
 An ignorant man abused the picture on the ground that 
 in the angel there was no sign of effort no muscle was 
 strained. But this was designed to show the angelic 
 nature. It is the same in the Greek sculpture of the 
 gods. 
 
 When Madame de Stael returned from Berlin, and 
 brought A. W. Schlegel in her train, I dined at Goethe's 
 with Schlegel, Tieck the sculptor, and Riemer. No one 
 else but Madame Goethe was present. I was struck by the 
 contrast between Schlegel and Goethe. Nothing could ex- 
 ceed the repose of Goethe, whereas on Schlegel's part there 
 was an evident striving after pun and point. Of these I 
 recollect nothing but that Bottiger was his butt, whom 
 he compared to Bardolph. From Goethe I remember a 
 word or two of deep significance. He said to Schlegel, 
 " I am glad to hear that your brother means to translate 
 the 'Sakontala.' I shall rejoice to see that po.em as it is, 
 instead of as it is represented by the moral English- 
 man." And there was a sarcastic emphasis on the word 
 " moralischen." He then went on, " Eigentlich aber 
 hasse ich alles Orientalische." (But, in truth, I hate 
 everything Oriental.) By which, probably, he meant 
 rather that he infinitely preferred the Greek to the Ori- 
 ental mind. He continued, " I am glad there is some-
 
 Goethe. 
 
 189 
 
 thing that I hate ; for, otherwise, one is in danger of 
 falling into the dull habit of literally finding all things 
 good in their place, and that is destructive of all true 
 feeling." This casts some light on his sentiments re- 
 specting the two religions which had their origin in the 
 East. And yet this might have been a transient feeling, 
 for in less than ten years he withdrew himself from 
 the contemplation of the miseries which then sur- 
 rounded him, and took refuge in the study of Oriental 
 literature. The result is given in his "West-Eastern 
 Divan." 
 
 Were I a younger man, and did I fancy myself com- 
 petent to the task, I would collect and translate all that 
 Goethe has written on Judaism and Christianity. It 
 should be published without note or comment, for it is 
 unlike anything I have ever met with from believer or 
 unbeliever, and is absolutely unique. In one of his pri- 
 vate letters to Lavater he makes a distinction, for which 
 our ordinary language has no equivalent. He says, " I 
 am by no means tf;//z-christian, not even #;/-christian, but 
 I am indeed nicht-christian." The difference between 
 un-christian and nicht-christian may be conceived. 
 
 It was at no great distance from this time that I 
 called on Goethe to see whether I could induce him to 
 act as a mediator between the Duke and the students 
 in the quarrel that threatened an Auszug, or withdrawal, 
 of the best young men of the University. Having 
 listened to my representations, he coolly said, " So is it 
 in these matters of police, in which both parties are 
 right. The students, seeing the matter from their point 
 of view, are perfectly in the right. But then the Duke 
 
 CHAP. via. 
 1804. 
 
 Goethe on 
 Optimism. 
 
 Judaism 
 
 and 
 Christian 
 
 ity. 
 
 Goethe on 
 the stu- 
 dents' quar- 
 rel wit k 
 the authori- 
 ties.
 
 190 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 CHAP. virr. 
 1804. 
 
 Goethe's 
 wife. 
 
 Goethes 
 son s alb um. 
 
 is equally in the right ; he has his own mode of looking 
 at things from his point of view'as sovereign." 
 
 During these occasional visits, I saw the companion 
 of Goethe's table, the mother of his children. As is 
 well known, she afterwards became his wife. She had 
 an agreeable countenance, and a cordial tone. Her 
 manners were unceremonious and free. Queer stories 
 are told of her undignified ways and the freedom of her 
 intercourse with him when she was young ; but she had 
 outgrown all such eccentricities when I saw her. 
 
 I have already referred to Goethe's son coming to 
 Madame de Stael with his album. She allowed me to 
 copy the two first verses of the little volume. I have 
 never seen them in print. 
 
 In Goethe's hand were these distichs 
 
 " Gonnern reiche das Buch, und reich' es Freund und Gespielen ; 
 Reich' es dem Eilenden bin, der sich voriiber bewegt 
 Wer des freundlichen Worts, des Namens Gabe dir spendet 
 Haufet den edlen Schatz holden Erinnerns dir an." 
 
 That is : 
 
 " Hand to the Patron the book, and hand it to friend and companion ; 
 Hand to the traveller too rapidly passing away : 
 He who with friendly gift of a word or a name thee enriches," 
 
 [The last line is wanting in the translation, 
 meaning is, 
 
 " Stores up a noble treasure of tender remembrance for thee."] 
 
 In Schiller's hand were these lines 
 
 " Holder Knab', dich liebt dasGliick denn es gab dir der Giiter, 
 Erstes, Kostliches, dich riihrnend des Vaters zu freuen 
 Jetzo kennest du nur des Freundes liebende Seele. 
 Wenn du zum Manne gereift, wirst du die Worte verstehen. 
 Dann erst kehrst du zuriick mit reiner Liebe Gefuhle 
 An des Trefflichen Brust der dir jetzt Vater nur ist ; 
 
 The
 
 Voigt, junior. 
 
 191 
 
 Lass ihn leben in dir, wie er lebt in den ewigen Werken, 
 Die er, der Einzige, uns bluhend unsterblich erschuf, 
 Und das herzliche Band der wechselnden Neigung und Treue 
 Das die Vater verkniipft, binde die Sohne nur fort." 
 
 " Cherished boy ! thou art the favourite of Fortune, for she gave thee the first 
 and most precious of gifts, to rejoice in the glory of thy father. Now thou knowest 
 only the loving heart of the friend. When thou art ripened into manhood thou 
 wilt understand the words. Thou wilt then go back with feelings of pure love 
 to the bosom of the excellent who at present is merely father to thee. Let him 
 live in thee, as he lives in the eternal works which he, the only one, produced 
 for us in everlasting bloom ; and may the heartfelt bond of reciprocal inclina- 
 tion and confidence, which united the fathers, continue to unite the sons!" 
 
 The son of Prorector Voigt was among the students 
 with whom I became most intimate. Later in life he 
 became Professor of Botany at Jena, and acquired repu- 
 tation by his writings. Of the kindliness of his disposi- 
 tion I have a deep sense ; our friendship has retained its 
 original warmth for forty years, and during that time 
 there has been no interruption to our correspondence. 
 At the time of which I am now writing he had com- 
 pleted his studies, and settled at Gotha with the object 
 of practising as a physician ; and there I paid him a visit. 
 An Englishman was then a phenomenon in the little 
 town, but I was cordially received in Voigt's circle of 
 acquaintance ; and I recollect that when I had danced 
 with a lady and handed her to a seat, she somewhat 
 surprised me by saying, " And now, sir, I have to tell 
 you that you are the last gentleman I shall ever dance 
 with in company." " Indeed, madam ! How is that ?" 
 "Why, sir, to-morrow my daughter is to be confirmed, 
 and I have always been of opinion that when a lady is 
 so far advanced in life as to have a daughter confirmed, 
 it is time to give up dancing." 
 
 CHAP. viir. 
 1804. 
 
 Voigt, 
 junior.
 
 192 
 
 Adam Weishaupt. 
 
 CHAP. viii. 
 1804. 
 
 The 
 Illuminati. 
 
 Adam 
 Weishaupt. 
 
 But my object in referring to this visit to Gotha is 
 to say something of a man whose name belongs to 
 the history of the last century, though it was raised to 
 undue importance by the malignant exaggerations of 
 party spirit. 
 
 During the heat of the first Revolution in France, two 
 works appeared, one in England, by Professor Robison 
 of Edinburgh, and the other, the more voluminous, in 
 France, by the Abb Barruel, with the common object of 
 showing that the Revolution and all the horrors conse- 
 quent on it were the effect of a conspiracy deliberately 
 planned and carried out on the Continent of Europe by 
 an Order of Infidels, who, by means of secret societies, 
 planned to destroy all thrones, overturn all altars, and 
 completely upset the established order of things. The 
 society to which this scheme was ascribed had the 
 name of The Illuminati. They were supposed to have 
 ramifications everywhere. The Kantian philosophy was 
 one of the instruments. Indeed, more or less, every 
 union of men, and every variety of thought, opposed to 
 monarchy and popery had about it the suspicion of 
 " Illumination." And of this tremendous evil the founder 
 and archdeacon was Adam Weishaupt. When I found 
 that this notorious man was leading a secluded life in 
 Gotha, I determined to call on him. On entering his 
 room, I remarked that he was both embarrassed and 
 reserved, and it was not till I had introduced myself as 
 one anxious to see him, though I knew of him only 
 from his enemies, that he seemed willing to enter into 
 conversation with me. On my taking leave, he even 
 invited me to repeat my visit, and I went to him three
 
 The Illuminati. 
 
 193 
 
 times. He frankly told me that I was let into his house 
 through the stupidity of a servant girl, whom he was on 
 the point of turning a'way for it ; but he had forgiven 
 her on account of the pleasure he had derived from our 
 interviews. He said he held in abhorrence all travellers 
 who made impertinent calls, and especially Englishmen. 
 He would not gratify the curiosity of such men. But 
 my candour and openness had rendered him willing to 
 make an exception in my case. In saying this he was, 
 perhaps, not departing from that character which his 
 enemies ascribed to him. Indeed, as is usual in such 
 instances, the statements made concerning him are 
 founded in truth. The falsehood lies in the exagge- 
 ration of some parts of his history, and in the omissign 
 of others. 
 
 Weishaupt would not have denied that he was 
 brought up among the Jesuits, or that in his opposition 
 to them he availed himself of the resources which he 
 acquired through his connection with them. And he 
 did form a secret Order at a time when, especially in 
 the South of Germany, an open expression of free 
 opinions would have endangered liberty, and perhaps 
 life. That the end was good according to his first 
 intention, and that there was at all times, perhaps, a 
 mixture of goodness in his motives, may reasonably be 
 conceded. Many eminent men (Baron Knigge was one 
 of the ablest) attached themselves to the Order. It has 
 always been said that Maximilian, the first king of 
 Bavaria, was favourable to it ; nor does the history of 
 his reign contradict the report. The Church, the cour- 
 tiers, and the aristocracy were, however, too powerful 
 
 VOL. I. O 
 
 CHAP. vm. 
 1804. 
 
 Adam 
 Weishaupt.
 
 194 
 
 The llluminati. 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 
 Adam 
 Weishaupt. 
 
 for the conspirators. The society was broken up, a 
 fierce persecution arose, and Weishaupt was happy in 
 making his escape, and obtaining the protection of the 
 learned Duke of Saxe-Gotha and the Duchess. When 
 I saw him he was about fifty-six years of age, and his 
 appearance was in no respect prepossessing ; his features 
 were coarse, his voice harsh, and his manners abrupt 
 and awkward. But his conversation made a strong 
 impression on my mind. He showed no great anxiety 
 to vindicate himself against the prevailing opinion 
 respecting him, or to dwell on those sentiments which 
 would be most likely to gain popular favour ; on the 
 contrary, he uttered things which it requires boldness 
 and indifference to evil report to express. Among his 
 sayings, one was delivered with peculiar emphasis : 
 "One of my tests of character is what a man says about 
 principle. A weak man is always talking of acting on 
 principle. An able man does always the right thing at 
 the right moment, and therein he shows himself to be 
 able." He even went so far as to say that there are 
 occasions when it is foolish to be just. He took a 
 desponding view of human life, and seemed to think 
 human society unimprovable. . No wonder ! He had 
 himself failed as a reformer, and therefore thought no 
 
 * o 
 
 one else could succeed. He said, "There is but one 
 schoolmaster whose teaching is always effectual 
 Necessity. Evil flourishes till it destroys itself. So it 
 was with Popery ; so it will be with monarchy." And 
 he added, somewhat diffusely, that there is a constant 
 interchange of progressive evil and partial reform. I 
 said, I could not believe that his view was a correct one.
 
 Adam Weishaupt. 
 
 195 
 
 He smiled and said, " You are quite right ; if you can 
 help it, don't believe it." I said, " You would not teach 
 this to your children." " If I attempted it," he answered, 
 " I should not succeed. The young, with their good 
 hearts, cannot believe it." " But old men with cold 
 heads ? " I said in a voice of interrogation. "I am 
 sorry for it," he said, "but it is true." 
 
 The practical writings of Weishaupt are of value ; the 
 speculative were never esteemed. He wrote against the 
 Kantian philosophy, but his works were not read. His 
 " Pythagoras," as he said, contains all the statistics of 
 Secret Societies. But the vast extension of education 
 since Weishaupt's time has rendered this learning of less 
 importance than it was even then. He is said to have 
 been an admirer of Buonaparte. This is natural with 
 his peculiar habit of thought. For the French character 
 he professed great contempt, and for the English high 
 admiration. To poetry and the fine arts he was in- 
 different. 
 
 At the Easter recess of 1804, the students who had 
 threatened to leave the University, unless the demands 
 in their memorial were complied with, took their de- 
 parture to pursue their studies elsewhere. Jena seemed 
 deserted ; I at least lost the greater number of my 
 younger friends and companions. A large proportion 
 of them repaired to the recently established University 
 of Wiirzburg. 
 
 It happened, fortunately for myself, that, soon after 
 this loss, I became intimate with one for whom, of all 
 my German acquaintance, I have felt the warmest 
 regard : this was Major von Knebel. He was at the time 
 
 O 2 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 Weis- 
 haupt' 3 
 writings. 
 
 Students. 
 
 Major von 
 Knebel.
 
 196 
 
 Jena. 
 
 CHAP. vni. 
 1804. 
 
 Major von 
 Knebel. 
 
 just sixty years of age. He had a fine military figure, 
 and his temper and character were much better adapted 
 to arms than to scholarship; yet his tastes were literary. 
 A Franconian nobleman by birth, he entered early into 
 the service of Prussia, and was brought up under the 
 great Frederick. But the restraints and subordination 
 of a military life were repugnant to him. He loved 
 poetry intensely, and even wrote verses. On a journey 
 which he accidentally made through Weimar, when 
 under the government of the Duchess-Dowager Amelia, 
 he had the good fortune to make himself acceptable to 
 the Duchess Regent. She obtained from the King 
 of Prussia his discharge from military duties, and he 
 accepted office in the Court of Weimar as governor of 
 the Prince Constantine, the second son, and became his 
 travelling companion in France. This was just at that 
 genial period when Goethe became, not precisely the 
 governor, but the intimate companion of the heir and 
 subsequent Duke of Saxe- Weimar, who when I was at 
 Weimar was the sovereign. 
 
 Knebel, therefore, was a participator in all those acts 
 of extravagance of which public report was so full, 
 and which have formed a subject for so much poli- 
 tical and literary gossip. When his pupil died, which 
 was in a few years, he had a pension allowed him, 
 with the rank and emoluments of a Major ; and thus 
 he was sufficiently provided for till the end of his 
 days. He was without the early training of the scholar, 
 and the habits of the literary man ; but he had the 
 tastes of a delicate organization, and all the feelings of 
 a man of honour and refined sensibility, with a choleric
 
 Major von Knebel. 
 
 197 
 
 temperament. His sense of honour rendered him very 
 reserved on all matters connected with the Court, 
 especially with the Duke and Goethe. That sense of 
 honour at the same time also kept him aloof from the 
 Court. While he shared the admiration which was 
 universally felt towards Goethe, there was something 
 which prevented the perfect feeling of cordiality which 
 existed between Herder and himself. In that division 
 of literary men at Weimar, which placed Goethe 
 and Schiller at the head of one set, and Wieland and 
 Herder at the head of the other, there could be no 
 question as to which Knebel attached himself. 
 
 His own taste led him to occupy himself with trans- 
 lations. He published a German version of the " Elegies 
 of Propertius," and devoted many years of his life to 
 the production of a German Lucretius. In the course 
 of his studies he had formed a high opinion of the 
 critical taste of Gilbert Wakefield, whose text he 
 adopted ; and it added, not a little to my merit in his 
 eyes, that I had known Wakefield. Elegiac tenderness 
 and sententious wisdom were the directions which his 
 faculty of verse-making took. He was a moral poet, 
 and full of "natural piety," to borrow Bacon's ex- 
 pression. 
 
 From the moment of my being known to Knebel, I 
 became intimate in his house. There was none into 
 which I went with so much pleasure, and Knebel 
 seemed to receive no one with so much satisfaction. 
 He had a great deal to learn from me in English litera- 
 ture, and I from him in German. Though our oppor- 
 tunities of intercourse lasted but a short time, I yet 
 
 CHAP. vm. 
 1804. 
 
 The Court 
 at Weimar. 
 
 Lucretius. 
 
 Intimacy 
 
 with 
 Knebel.
 
 198 
 
 Major von Knebel. 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 Knebel's 
 family. 
 
 attached greater value to his acquaintance than any 
 other I formed in Germany. He had not the means of 
 giving expensive entertainments, nor was it the custom 
 in Jena to give them ; but he was by nature liberal and 
 most gentlemanly in all his feelings. He was an object 
 of universal love. 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS BROTHER.* 
 
 Jena, Dec. 12th, 1804. 
 
 I met Knebel first at the house of Frau von Woll- 
 zogen, and was immediately invited to visit him. I am 
 now the most intimate ami de la maison. If for three 
 days I omit calling, the servant comes with the 
 Major's compliments to inquire after my health ; and I 
 find that I am never unwelcome. We sometimes read 
 Shakespeare, but oftener reason about Lucretius. By 
 what lucky mistake I know not, but the Major looks on 
 me as a Philolog, lays scruples and difficulties before 
 me, and listens to me with an attention that makes 
 me internally blush. He is chatty, has seen much of 
 life and literary men, and relates his anecdotes with 
 pleasure. Nor is this all. A few years since he married 
 a very pretty and amiable woman, just half as old as 
 himself. She is lively and naifve in the highest degree, 
 so that they often seem rather in the relation of parent 
 and child than of husband and wife. He has besides 
 a forward clever boy of ten, with whom I can very well 
 entertain myself. Thus it needs no assurance of mine 
 that in this house I am quite happy ; indeed it is my 
 
 * This letter is given a little out of order as to time, but the reference in it to 
 Knebel could come in nowhere else so well as here.
 
 Major von Knebel. 
 
 199 
 
 prime enjoyment this winter a new tie to Jena. When 
 persons of so excellent a character as Major Knebel 
 attach themselves to me, I am always led to inquire into 
 the cause, and that out of true modesty, for it seems a 
 wonder to me. And in this case it lies more in the vir- 
 tues of Knebel than in me. He loves the society of those 
 to whom he can say everything. And my betters here are 
 not of that description real scholars have not time, and 
 have too much pretention. I am a man of leisure. I am 
 frank, and as I take liberties myself, so others can take 
 liberties with me. And then the main point is, we ride 
 one hobby-horse. I know no source of friendship so pro- 
 ductive as this. I should further say that Major Knebel 
 is in other respects a most worthy man generous and 
 sincere a courtier without falsity a soldier without 
 frivolity. The worst fault I know in him is that he 
 admires Buonaparte. I lately dined with him in com- 
 pany with the venerable Griesbach, whom you know 
 as a theologian ; and the equally venerable Wieland. 
 
 I will here mention an interesting anecdote connected 
 with " Reynard the Fox," though it is already contained 
 in my friend Naylor's translation of that work. One 
 day, at Knebel's house, Herder said to Goethe, "Do 
 you know that we have in the German language an epic 
 poem with as much poetry in it as the ' Odyssey,' and 
 more philosophy ? " 
 
 When " Reineke Fuchs " was named, Goethe said he 
 had been deterred from looking into it, by its being 
 published by Gottsched, a sort of evil spirit who pre- 
 sided over the infant genius of German literature in the 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 Reynard the 
 Fox.
 
 200 
 
 Visit to 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 Visit to 
 Wurzburg. 
 
 Students 
 trick on a 
 landlord. 
 
 eighteenth century. Goethe, however, took the book 
 away with him on a visit to Carlsbad, where he 
 requently passed the summer ; and in a few weeks he 
 wrote to Herder that his version of " Reineke " in 
 hexameters was in the press. 
 
 To soften the painful effect of taking leave at once of 
 a number of high-spirited and generous young men, I 
 lad promised to pay a visit to Wurzburg. On two 
 points, moreover, my curiosity was not a little excited ; 
 first, as to how the Deism of Paulus would amalgamate 
 with the Romanism of the Bavarian aborigines ; and 
 secondly, whether the peculiar character of a Jenaer- 
 Bursche was fixed to the soil, or might be trans- 
 planted by so numerous a colony to the Maximilian 
 school. 
 
 At the request of my new friend Knebel, I post- 
 poned my journey from the 8th to the loth of Sep- 
 tember, in order to accompany his friend, Herr von 
 Holzschuher. He was a patrician of the imperial city 
 of Nuremberg, and I found him a most amiable and 
 obliging man. His station and exterior figure did not 
 seem promising for a long expedition on foot ; but, 
 notwithstanding his shrivelled, swarthy face, slender 
 limbs, and shuffling gait, he had an inborn nobility of 
 legs that secured my esteem, and enabled him to 
 accomplish from twelve to fourteen leagues a day 
 during the short time we were together. 
 
 My reception at Wurzburg was a very cordial one, 
 and I found myself an object of interest to many 
 former Jena students, who crowded round me to hear 
 tidings of a place they loved more than their pride
 
 Wursburg. 
 
 201 
 
 would allow them to confess. When I repaired to my 
 inn, my companions, bent on fun, urged me to be the 
 chief actor in playing off a trick on a foolish landlord. 
 Indeed, without preparing me for what they were going 
 to do, they introduced me to him at once as the illus- 
 trious philosopher Fichte. The man was so egregious 
 a simpleton, that the task on my part was an easy 
 one. My companions gravely put to me questions of 
 casuistry, which I answered sometimes with Delphic 
 mysticism, i.e. sheer nonsense, at others with pompous 
 triteness a still more successful method, perhaps, of 
 befooling a fool. Our host was delighted to have his 
 house honoured by the presence of so great a man, and 
 soon brought into the room a witness and sharer of his 
 felicity, a young Catholic priest on his way to the Arch- 
 chancellor, the Elector Dalberg. After my friends had 
 left me, and when I was quite alone, this young priest 
 came to me for the second time, and begged to have 
 the honour of a few words in private with the great 
 man. I thought I might innocently indemnify myself 
 for my trouble by learning some of his sentiments. 
 " Pray," said I, " now that the young people are away, 
 let us talk openly. Men of our character understand 
 each other. How is it that a person of your philo- 
 sophic turn of mind can submit to the slavery of the 
 Roman Catholic system ? How do you dare to think 
 philosophy ? " He assumed a look that Hogarth might 
 have borrowed, and said, " To tell you the truth, Herr 
 Professor, there is not one of us who does not feel the 
 yoke, and we envy you Protestants ; but we are poor, 
 and submit for the sake of a maintenance. But I 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 H. C. R. as 
 Fich'e.
 
 2O2 
 
 Wilrzburg. 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 Execution 
 
 of a 
 criminal. 
 
 assure you we are more enlightened than you are 
 aware of." And then he said, with a smile of conceit, 
 " Perhaps, after all, we do not believe so much even as 
 you. In secret we are very enlightened." The style 
 in which he went on prevented me from feeling any 
 scruple at the joke to which I was a party. I have no 
 doubt he was saying what he supposed would recom- 
 mend him to my favourable opinion. I inquired about 
 the disputes then going on between the King and the 
 Bishop (of Wiirzburg), and found from his account, 
 which now I could believe to be sincere, that he and 
 his brethren were anxious to steer between the two 
 powers ; for to the one they owed their subsistence, 
 and to the other their clerical character. The next 
 morning, Professor Fichte paid his bill, and took up 
 his abode with one of his friends. 
 
 In the course of the day I beheld a strange sight 
 a ' man beheaded for murder. He was of the lowest 
 description of character sunk in brutal stupidity and 
 despair. The spectator could not but feel ashamed of 
 such a degradation of human nature. The place of 
 execution in Germany is usually a circular elevation, 
 spacious enough to hold a chair and three or four per- 
 sons, i.e. some fifteen or twenty feet in diameter. In the 
 present instance the criminal, having rapidly performed 
 certain religious rites below, which I did not see, .was 
 blindfolded, and, with a crucifix in his hand, led by two 
 men to the raised ground, and there placed in a chair. 
 The executioner then stepped from behind, holding a 
 broad sword under his cloak, and in an instant, with a 
 back-handed blow, severed the head from the body.
 
 Panlus. 
 
 203 
 
 The headless trunk remained in the chair unmoved, 
 as if nothing had happened. A Capuchin monk then 
 came forward and, lifting up a huge crucifix, exclaimed, 
 " See, my friends, that thing which was a man sits 
 there, and all because he neglected going to confession." 
 A Protestant in like circumstances would have ascribed 
 the catastrophe to the violation of the Sabbath. The 
 address which followed was delivered with eloquence, 
 and, though disgusting to me, was, I felt, well adapted 
 to impress the sort of audience collected to hear it. 
 
 I spent two days visiting various acquaintances, and 
 both days I had great pleasure in dining with Professor 
 Paulus, an agreeable companion, very acute as well as 
 clear-headed. Whatever opinion I may entertain of his 
 Christianity which is not so favourable now as it was 
 then I sec no reason to withhold the acknowledgment 
 of his perfect sincerity and integrity. He claimed the 
 character of a Christian Professor, and this during his 
 long academical life was not denied him by any official 
 colleague, though refused to him by controversial ad- 
 versaries. I learned from him that Schelling had 
 already lost the favour of the Government, and that 
 a struggle of parties was going on which threatened 
 (and soon produced its effect on) the infant Univer- 
 sity.* 
 
 * It should be not infant, but rejuvenescent. The University of Wiirzburg 
 was originally established in 1403, but, having ceased to exist, was re-established 
 in 1582 ; and an attempt was made at the beginning of the present century to 
 widen its influence by the appointment of several very eminent professors ; and 
 it seems that a Protestant element was introduced in the theological staff of 
 professors. At the present time Wiirzburg is a Roman Catholic university. The 
 Protestant university of Bavaria is that of Erlangen, at which a large proportion 
 of the students are theological. 
 
 CHAP. vni. 
 1804. 
 
 Paulus.
 
 204 
 
 The Bergstrasse. 
 
 CHAP. VIH. 
 1804. 
 
 The 
 Bergstrasse. 
 
 Buonaparte. 
 
 The hope of being able to render service to a friend 
 caused me to extend my tour to Heidelberg and 
 Carlsruhe. Of the former I need not speak ; the latter 
 did not please me. The town is built in the shape of a 
 fan, the palace forming the handle, and the streets radi- 
 ating from it. Of the famous Bergstrasse I will only 
 say, that I never felt more strongly the effect of scenery 
 in giving strength and resolution. It is said that a 
 property of beauty is to enervate ; but this was not 
 my experience in the present journey. The road was 
 lined on both sides with fruit-trees of every description, 
 especially walnuts, apples, and chestnuts. The prin- 
 cipal harvest was over, but every variety of produce 
 was left, including, besides more familiar objects, flax, 
 tobacco, and Indian corn. I noticed one peach-tree 
 standing by itself. The apples were not knocked 
 down, but carefully gathered one by one by means of 
 an instrument combining a rake and a basket. 
 
 While I was on this little tour Buonaparte paid a visit 
 to Mayence, of which all the papers were full. I was 
 amused at the prevailing timidity of the people in ex- 
 pressing their opinions. I never met with an individual 
 who had a word to say in his favour, but no one 
 ventured to speak against him. I alone talked freely, 
 and I could see that people envied me my power of 
 saying what I liked. One evening, at the table-d'hote, 
 I was rattling away as usual, when a well-looking man 
 who sat next me asked where I was going ? I said, 
 "On foot to Frankfort." He took me by the hand, and 
 in the tone of one about to ask a serious favour, begged 
 me to take a seat between him and his wife in their
 
 Frankfort. 
 
 205 
 
 carriage. " It will do my heart good," he said, " to talk 
 with an Englishman about that vile people and their 
 vile Emperor, who have thrust my nation into such 
 misery. I am from Berne ; my name is Von Haller." 
 "Probably of the family of the great physiologist?" I 
 said. " The same." The request was seconded by his 
 very nice little wife, who had hardly ever before been 
 out of her native place. I enjoyed my drive with my 
 patriotic companions, and the first day after our arrival 
 at Frankfort I devoted to them. I then spent four days 
 in calling on my several acquaintance. But my visit 
 was tantalizing rather than satisfying, and led to a re- 
 flection which on other occasions has forced itself on me, 
 and which I think worth writing here. It is this, the 
 sentiments we entertain for old friends are sometimes 
 endangered by a short visit after a few years' absence. 
 The recollection of the former intercourse with old 
 friends has about it a charm, which is broken when they 
 are seen for only a short time. If there be a second 
 stay with them sufficiently lengthened to form a new 
 image, then a double and strengthened attachment 
 arises. Otherwise an illusion is destroyed, and no sub- 
 stitute is produced. 
 
 In my notes of the Brentano family, I find that 
 Bettina pleased me this time better than before. Now I 
 may venture to mention Bettina, who has since gained 
 a European notoriety at least. When I first came to 
 Frankfort she was a short, stout, romping girl, the 
 youngest and least agreeable of Madame de la Roche's 
 grandchildren. She was always considered a wayward, 
 unmanageable creature. I recollect seeing her climb 
 
 CHAP. vni. 
 1804. 
 
 Von 
 Haller. 
 
 Bettina.
 
 206 
 
 Bettina. 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 .1804. 
 
 Goethes 
 Briefwech- 
 sel mit 
 einem 
 Kinde. 
 
 Salzmann. 
 
 apple-trees, and she was a great rattling talker. I recol- 
 lect also hearing her speak in terms of extravagant ad- 
 miration of the Mignon of Goethe's " Wilhelm Meister." 
 Clasping her hands over her bosom, she said, " I always 
 lie thus when in bed, in imitation of Mignon." I had 
 heard nothing of her for many years, when there ap- 
 peared "Goethes Briefwechsel mit einem Kinde" (Corre- 
 spondence of Goethe with a Child). In this book Bettina 
 wishes to have it thought that she was so much an 
 object of interest to Goethe, that he framed sonnets out 
 of her letters. My friend Fritz Schlosser says he is 
 most certain that these letters were not written at the 
 date they bear, but are mere inventions founded on 
 the sonnets. My acquaintance at Frankfort are of the 
 same opinion, and it is not opposed by the family. 
 
 On the way back to Jena I passed through Fulda, 
 the residence of a prince r bishop, and saw a play 
 entitled " tjble Laune," by Kotzebue. I thought it 
 did not justify the epigram made upon it by A. W. 
 Schlegel : 
 
 "Justly and wisely this piece by the author's entitled '111 Humour;' 
 Though in the play 'tis not found, still by the play 'tis engender' d." 
 
 I visited one Salzmann, a famous practical peda- 
 gogue, who has established a large and distinguished 
 seminary at Schnepfenthal. * This Salzmann has 
 made himself generally known by the very elaborate 
 and solicitous attention he pays to the gymnastical part 
 of education, by the anti-disciplinarian principles, and 
 by the universal tendency and direction of the studies. 
 
 * A village near Waltershausen, in the Duchy of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha.
 
 Model School. 
 
 207 
 
 I saw that the boys were healthy, happy, and coura- 
 geous. And Salzmann seemed to have succeeded in 
 the difficult task (which the French have found imprac- 
 ticable) of giving liberty and repressing licentiousness. 
 The boys are on no occasions struck this is a funda- 
 mental law. Another is to give them freedom in every- 
 thing not obviously dangerous. They botanize and 
 study natural history, and take long journeys with their 
 preceptors on foot over the mountains. They climb 
 trees, jump over hedges, swim, skate, &c. &c., and, as far 
 as general culture of the active powers is concerned, 
 there is much to be applauded, but I fear solid learning 
 is neglected, and the institution is not without affectation, 
 and even what looks like quackery. A newspaper is 
 printed here containing a history of all remarkable 
 occurrences, prizes given, incidents in the house, exer- 
 cises performed, visits of strangers, &c. With edifying 
 improvements, Salzmann translated Mary Wollstone- 
 craft's " Rights of Women," and he was in corre- 
 spondence with her. One of her children's books is a 
 translation of a work by him. 
 
 After my return, Knebel was anxious to take me to 
 Weimar to see his sister, governess to the Hereditary 
 Princess, and also Fraulein von Geckhausen, the Hofdame 
 to the Duchess Dowager. We went on the 2/th of Octo- 
 ber. I had the honour of sipping chocolate in the presence 
 of the young Princess. I also visited Frau von Wollzogen, 
 Schiller's wife's sister, afterwards his biographer, and I 
 witnessed the performance of "Turandot."* This fairy 
 tale, by Schiller, an imitation of Gozzi, is not considered 
 
 * Turandot, Prinzessin von China. Ein tragikomisches Miihrchen nach Gozzi. 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 Schoolboys 
 at Schnep- 
 fetithal.
 
 208 
 
 Jena. 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 Affair in 
 Lecture 
 Room, 
 
 one of his great works ; but it proved versatility of 
 talent, and afforded an opportunity of trying an experi- 
 ment. It was played with masks, and certainly gave 
 pleasure as soon as the spectators were reconciled to the 
 novelty. At each performance, for some time, the in- 
 terest was enhanced by the introduction of fresh riddles, 
 by which the Chinese Princess tried the skill of her 
 unwelcome lover. 
 
 On the 24th of November, an occurrence took place 
 which at one time threatened me with serious conse- 
 quences, but which eventually was of service to me by 
 occasioning my introduction to the Duchess. Of all the 
 
 Jena professors, the most unpopular was E . He 
 
 had the ear of the Grand Duke, but was disliked both 
 by his colleagues and the students. He lectured this 
 session on Homer and the Roman satirists. One of the 
 students had put into my hands a commentary on 
 Horace, from which we saw that the Professor read page 
 after page. As soon as the lecture was over, and 
 
 E had left the room, I called out to the students, 
 
 " Gentlemen, I will read you the lecture over again," 
 
 and began reading ; I was a little too soon, E was 
 
 within hearing, and rushed back to the room. An alter- 
 cation ensued, and I was cited before the Prorector. It 
 was reported that I should be sent away, that is, receive 
 the consilinm abeundi. My friend Knebel took up my 
 cause zealously. The Prorector interrogated me, and I 
 related to him all that I could. In the Senate, my 
 chief friend was the great jurist Thibaut, who, next 
 to Savigny, was one of the great law authorities 
 of the day in Germany. I soon learned that E
 
 Lecture Room Difficulty. 
 
 209 
 
 had succeeded in misrepresenting the affair ; and from 
 Thibaut I received the advice to draw up a formal 
 statement, and present it to the Prorector, with the 
 request that he would lay it before the Senate. This I 
 did ; and I added a letter from a student corroborating 
 
 every important fact, especially the fact that E had 
 
 merely read from Haverkamp. The Senate requested 
 the Professor to send in his answer. Thibaut said that 
 for his own part he would never consent to my receiving 
 the consilium, for either I ought to be expelled with 
 infamy as a liar, or I had told the truth, and then the 
 less said about the matter the better. It was discovered 
 
 that E was gone to Weimar, with the object it 
 
 was believed of obtaining a Ducal order for my removal; 
 therefore my friends resolved to introduce me to the 
 Grand Duchess. 
 
 The Prorector affected to be my friend, and said the 
 matter should be made up by the merely nominal punish- 
 ment of a rustication for two days. I said I should sub- 
 mit to no punishment. If there were a sentence against 
 me, I should appeal to the Duke ; and if that did not 
 avail, I should leave the University, and send a printed 
 copy of my statement to all the other Universities. 
 In my paper, I stated that if I were accused of making 
 a false charge of plagiarism, I pledged myself to prove 
 the charge. The Professor never answered my memo- 
 rial ; and so the matter ended. 
 
 In the meanwhile, however, it took me to Weimar. 
 The Dowager Duchess Amelia, a niece of Frederick, 
 King of Prussia, was a very superior woman ; and German 
 literature is under infinite obligations to her. She was 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
 CHAP. viii. 
 
 1804. 
 
 The 
 
 Dowager 
 Duchess 
 Amelia.
 
 2IO 
 
 The Duchess Dowager. 
 
 CHAP. vin. 
 1804. 
 
 Princess of 
 
 Saxe- 
 Weimar. 
 
 the especial patroness of Wieland and Herder, but was 
 honoured by Goethe, Schiller, and indeed by every one. 
 The first day I dined with her I felt as much at my ease 
 as the last. Wieland was always at her table. On the 
 present occasion she desired me to be at the theatre in 
 Schiller's box. I called on him, and went with his 
 party. The Duchess came, and stood next me, and 
 
 chatted with me. E was in the pit, and it was 
 
 supposed the sight of me must have taken away his 
 last hope of success. At all events, all apprehension on 
 my account was removed early in the new year by 
 my public appearance under the Duchess Dowager's 
 protection. 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS BROTHER. 
 
 March 2nd, 1805. 
 
 The Duchess is certainly one of the most estimable 
 of the German princesses, and is not unworthy of being 
 a niece 'of Frederick II. At the theatre I saw the 
 wonder of the North, and the object of every one's 
 idolatry here the hereditary Princess of Saxe- Weimar. 
 As my residence here has given you an interest in every- 
 thing that concerns our little court, I take for granted 
 that you are not ignorant that a few months since our 
 Hereditary Prince brought home his bride the sister of 
 the Emperor of Russia, and a daughter of Paul. All 
 tongues are lavish of her praise, and indeed she seems 
 to be really an extraordinary person. She is young, 
 and possesses a most cultivated mind and accomplished 
 address. I stood by her some time, and smiled at
 
 The Hereditary Princess. 
 
 211 
 
 myself at remarking the effect she had on me since, 
 excellent as I doubt not she is, I am still sensible that 
 the strange sensation I felt at hearing her say common 
 things was principally occasioned by the magic of title 
 and name. 
 
 CHAP. vni. 
 
 1805. 
 
 P 2
 
 212 
 
 Changes at Jena. 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 1805. 
 
 Mr : and 
 
 Mrs. Hare 
 
 Naylor. 
 
 Miss Flax- 
 man. 
 
 The death 
 of Schiller. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 GERMANY. 1805. 
 
 IN 1805 Jena was to sustain a fresh loss in the departure 
 of Voss, to whom a pension of 1,000 dollars a year was 
 offered on the simple condition of his living at Heidel- 
 berg. On the other hand, there came to live at Weimar 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hare Naylor, whom I found a very valu- 
 able addition to my circle of acquaintance. He was the 
 son of the Whig Bishop Hare, and she the daughter of 
 Bishop Shipley, brother of the patriotic Dean of St. 
 Asaph, whom Erskine defended in the prosecution for 
 publishing Sir W. Jones's famous Dialogue. The Hare 
 Naylors had young children, of whom, at the time I 
 am writing, the Archdeacon Julius is the only survivor. 
 Miss Flaxman lived with them as governess.* 
 
 I have now to mention an event which cast its shadow 
 far and wide, but especially over the neighbourhood of 
 Weimar the death of Schiller. 
 
 It has frequently been to me a subject of regret that 
 during my residence at Jena I did not take more pains 
 to be received into the society of the great poets of 
 Weimar. I saw Schiller occasionally, as well as the 
 others ; but I did not push myself into their notice. 
 
 * Vide Memoir of Julius Hare prefixed to the last edition of "Guesses at 
 Truth." The property of Hurstmonceux came into the Naylor family in 1701, 
 and was sold by Francis Hare Naylor in 1807. The name Naylor therefore was 
 doubtless assumed by Francis Hare in order to inherit this property.
 
 Schiller's Death. 
 
 213 
 
 This indeed I cannot regret. The only conversation I 
 recollect having had with Schiller arose from my asking 
 whether he did not know English, as I saw German 
 translations of Shakespeare among his books. He said, 
 " I have read Shakespeare in English, but on principle 
 not much. My business in life is to write German, and 
 I am convinced that a person cannot read much in 
 foreign languages without losing that delicate tact in the 
 perception of the power of words which is essential to 
 good writing." I also asked him whether he was ac- 
 quainted with Lillo. He said he began a play founded 
 on the story of " George Barnwell." He thought highly 
 of Lillo's dramatic talent. I told him the story of 
 " Fatal Curiosity," which he thought a good subject. By 
 the bye, Werner after this wrote a mystical play with 
 the same plot, and called it " The 24th of February," on 
 which day, for several generations, horrible events take 
 place in a doomed family. 
 
 During all the time I was at Jena, Schiller was in 
 poor health, though at this time his greatest works were 
 produced. He lived in a very retired way ; and his 
 habit was to write at midnight, taking a great deal of 
 coffee as a stimulant. The report of his being in a 
 dangerous state had already been spread abroad. 
 Friday, the loth of May, was Fries's last day at Jena, 
 and as usual I went with him and others to take after- 
 dinner coffee at Zwatzen. I left the party early, to keep 
 an engagement to drink tea with Knebel at Fahren- 
 kriiger's. While I was there some one came in with the 
 news " Schiller ist todt." Knebel sprang up, and in a 
 loud voice exclaimed, whilst he struck the table vio- 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 
 1805. 
 
 Foreign 
 Languages. 
 
 Lille. 
 
 Death of 
 StJUUer.
 
 214 
 
 Schiller's Death. 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 1805. 
 
 Major von 
 Knebel. 
 
 Party at 
 Weimar. 
 
 Schiller's 
 Funeral. 
 
 lently, " Der Tod ist der einzige dumme Jung." It was 
 ridiculous and pathetic. Dear Knebel's passions were 
 always an odd combination of fury and tenderness. He 
 loved Schiller, and gave to his feelings immediate and 
 unconsidered expression. He had no other word for them 
 now than the comic student word of offence, the pre- 
 lude to a duel, " Death is the only fool." I had engaged 
 to go to a party in honour of Fries, and I went. We 
 stayed up late, student-songs were sung, but we could 
 not be glad ; for there was not one of us who did not 
 grieve for the loss of Schiller, though perhaps no one 
 was intimate with him. 
 
 I went next day to Weimar, where I remained till 
 the I4th. I spent the Saturday in various company, 
 for I had now many acquaintances. Schiller's death 
 and character were the sole subjects of conversation. 
 At a party at Fraulein Geckhausen's I was involved in 
 a foolish squabble. I said unguardedly, " The glory of 
 Weimar is rapidly passing away." One of the Kam- 
 merherrn (gentlemen of the chamber), was offended. 
 " All the poets might die," he said angrily, " but the 
 court of Weimar would still remain." The ladies 
 took my part ; they said, truly, that I was of course 
 referring to no court glory. I was alluding to that 
 in which Weimar threw into the shade Berlin, St. 
 Petersburg, and Vienna. 
 
 The interment of Schiller took place by night. Voss 
 came from Jena to be one of the bearers. It rained : 
 I was depressed, and as there was to be no address 
 or ceremony, I did not attend. This I have since 
 regretted.
 
 The Duchess Dowager. 
 
 215 
 
 Next day I dined quietly with Mrs. Hare. No one 
 was with her but Miss Flaxman. I found Mrs. Hare's 
 conversation very interesting. She had known Priestley ; 
 and lent me the life of her brother-in-law, Sir W. 
 Jones, of her connection with whom she was proud. 
 
 On the 1 3th I dined with the Duchess Dowager. 
 Wieland was present, and spoke of Schiller's poetical 
 character, remarking, with I believe perfect truth, that 
 Schiller's excellence lay more in lyrical poetry than 
 in dramatic. In reference to himself, Wieland said he 
 was a precocious child. At four years of age he began 
 Latin ; at eight understood Cornelius Nepos as well as 
 if he had written it ; and at fourteen was well acquainted 
 with Horace. 
 
 One little incident I must not forget The Grand 
 Duchess showed me a copy of Goethe's quarto volume, 
 "Winckelmann und sein Jahrhundert," which she had just 
 received from him. On taking it into my hand, there fell 
 from it a slip of paper, on which was written a distich. I 
 never felt so strong a temptation to commit a theft. But 
 I brought away a copy of the lines, without stealing : 
 
 " Freundlich empfange das Wort laut ausgesprochner Verehrung, 
 
 Das die Parze mir fast schnitt von den Lippen hinweg." 
 [" Kindly receive the expression of loudly avowed veneration, 
 Though from before my lips Fate nearly snatched it away."] 
 
 That Goethe's life was in danger when Schiller died is 
 well known ; and this distich shows that about this time 
 his "Winckelmann" was written. 
 
 On the 8th of June I dined with the Duchess for the 
 fourth time, and found Wieland very communicative. 
 He spoke of French literature, and I asked him to 
 recommend some French novels. He said, of Count 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 1805. 
 
 Wieland on 
 
 Schiller's 
 
 Poetry. 
 
 Distich by 
 Goethe. 
 
 The 
 Duchess.
 
 2l6 
 
 Wieland. 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 
 1805. 
 Wieland. 
 
 English 
 literature. 
 
 Wieland ' s 
 Musarion. 
 
 Hamilton opera omnia. He praised even the tales 
 of Crebillon " Le Sopha," " Ah, quelle Conte," and 
 " Memoires d'un Homme de Qualite," and some works 
 by Abbe Prevost. He spoke also of English literature, 
 to which he confessed great obligations. I had mentioned 
 that the first book I recollected having read was the " Pil- 
 grim's Progress." " That delights me," he said, " for in 
 that book I learned to read English. English literature 
 had a great influence on me ; and your Puritan writings 
 particularly. The first book I attempted to write was 
 an imitation of Mrs. Rowe's ' Letters from the Dead 
 to the Living.' " This was one of the favourite books 
 of my own dear mother. Wieland went on to say, 
 " The next work I read was a large didactic poem on 
 Grace. I said to myself, in future no one will speak 
 of Lucretius. After this I became acquainted with the 
 lighter English poetry. I made my ' Komische Erzah- 
 lungen ' in imitation of Prior. I was also fond of Gay." 
 Wieland thought English literature had declined since 
 the age of Queen Anne. 
 
 On a later occasion I saw still more of Wieland. 
 It was when Knebel took me to Tieffurth, the country 
 residence of the Duchess. I rode with Wieland tete-a- 
 tete to Tieffurth, from his own house ; and he spoke 
 of his own works with most interesting frankness. 
 He considered his best work to be " Musarion." He 
 had gone over it with Goethe line by line. He was 
 sensible that the characteristic of his prose style is 
 what the Greeks called nunu^'ia, not mere chatter, 
 " Geschwatz," but an agreeable diffuseness. 
 
 At dinner I told him of the new publication of
 
 Dinner-talk. 
 
 217 
 
 Gleim's Letters, and quoted a passage written by Gleim 
 in Switzerland when Wieland, a mere lad, was staying 
 at the house of Bodmer : " There is a very clever young 
 man here now named Wieland a great talker, and a 
 great writer. It is a pity that, as one can see, he will 
 very soon have exhausted himself." " Ich erschopft !" 
 (" I exhausted ") Wieland cried out, clasping his hands. 
 " Well, well ! I am now in my seventy-fourth year (or 
 seventy-third), and, by the blessing of God, I will still 
 write more than he ever did, and it shall last longer 
 too." This he said of the poet of Frederick the Great, 
 whom the last generation used to regard as a Horace, 
 and still more as a Tyrtaeus. 
 
 After dinner I read aloud, among other things, a good 
 translation by Schmidt of "Auld Robin Gray," which 
 was much admired. Wieland told us to-day of his 
 early attachment to Madame de la Roche. He said, 
 " It was well it came to nothing, for we should have 
 spoiled each other." 
 
 Humboldt, the great traveller, on his return from 
 America, was presented to" the Emperor Napoleon. 
 Now, Humboldt himself is a sort of Buonaparte among 
 travellers, and expected to be distinguished. "Vous 
 aimez la botanique," said the Emperor to him, " et ma 
 femme aussi;" and passed on. Is it not admirable? 
 There are many occurrences of great and little moment 
 in life which can only be understood from their relation 
 to the character of the actor. Was this address ol 
 Buonaparte humour, or satire, or insolence, or imper- 
 tinence ? Did he deserve a kick or a pat ? Ask his 
 lord in waiting. 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 
 1805. 
 
 Wieland. 
 
 Humboldt 
 
 and 
 Napoleon.
 
 218 
 
 Frau von EinsiedeL 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 1805. 
 
 Frau von 
 EinsiedeL 
 
 Craniology. 
 
 Gall. 
 
 At the close of my residence in Jena I became 
 rather intimate with a woman whose history is very 
 remarkable, especially as given by herself in detail. 
 This was Frau von EinsiedeL Compelled to marry 
 against her will, she found her husband so unfit for a 
 woman to live with, that she feigned death, and, making 
 her escape, caused a log of wood to be buried in her 
 stead. When the truth was discovered, a legal divorce 
 took place, and she became the wife of Herr von 
 Einsiedel, who had been the companion of her flight. 
 She gave me an account of her strange adventures, 
 that I might not despise her in the distant country to 
 which I was about to return. All she said was in lan- 
 guage the most delicate, and was indicative of the most 
 refined sensibility. She was held in high esteem by 
 Knebel and Wieland, and retained the regard of the 
 Duchess Dowager. I saw her repeatedly with the 
 Duchess when she came to Jena, and took up her 
 residence at the castle, in order to attend a course of 
 lectures on Craniology by Dr. Gall. 
 
 This science of Craniology, which keeps its place 
 in the world, though not among the universally received 
 sciences, was then quite new. One or two pamphlets 
 had appeared, but the gloss of novelty was still upon 
 it. Goethe deemed it worthy of investigation, and, 
 when a satire upon it was put into the form of a 
 drama, would not allow it to be acted. The Duchess, 
 who had a very active mind and a universal curiosity, 
 took a warm interest in the lectures, and was unre- 
 mitting in her attendance at them. 
 
 Gall, whom the Duchess invited me to meet at
 
 Gall and Spurzheim. 
 
 219 
 
 dinner, was a large man with a florid countenance, 
 of the same general complexion as Astley Cooper 
 and Chantrey. He had not been brought up in cul- 
 tivated society ; and so utterly wanting in tact was he, 
 that, on one occasion, having enumerated the different 
 organs on a marked skull, he turned to the Duchess 
 and regularly catechised her as if she had been an 
 ordinary student. " What's the name of that organ, 
 your Highness ?" She gave me a very significant 
 look, and smiled : there was a titter round the table, 
 and the Professor looked abashed. Gall was attended 
 by Spurzheim, as his famulus, who received our fee 
 for the lectures. 
 
 It occurred to me that I might make this new science 
 known in England, and accordingly I purchased of Spurz- 
 heim, for two Friedrichs d'or, a skull marked with the 
 organs. I bought also two pamphlets, one by Hufeland, 
 and the other by Bischof, explanatory of the system. 
 And soon after my return to London I compiled on the 
 subject a small volume, which was published by Long- 
 man.* The best part of the book was a happy motto 
 from Sir Thomas Brown, for which I take credit : " The 
 finger of God hath left an inscription upon all his works, 
 not graphical or composed of letters, but of their several 
 forms, constitutions, parts, and operations, which, aptly 
 joined together, do make one word that doth express 
 their nature." The work itself excited hardly any 
 public interest ; but just at the time a new and enlarged 
 edition of Rees's Cyclopaedia was coming out, and the 
 
 * Some Account of Dr. Gall's New Theory of Physiognomy, founded on the 
 Anatomy and Physiology of the Brain, and the Form of the Skull. With the 
 Critical Strictures of C. W. Hufeland, M.D. London, Longman & Co., 1807. 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 
 1805. 
 
 Compila- 
 tion on Cra- 
 niology, by 
 
 H. C. R.
 
 22O 
 
 Leave-taking 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 1805. 
 
 Review of 
 Studies. 
 
 Wieland. 
 
 Leaving 
 Jena. 
 
 whole substance of the article on Craniology was copied 
 from my work, the source being suitably acknowledged. 
 
 My student life was rapidly drawing to a close or 
 perhaps I should say rather my life at Jena for I must 
 confess I owe more to the society I enjoyed there than 
 to what I learned in the lecture-rooms of the professors. 
 My memoranda of my reading in Greek and Latin are 
 to me a source of mingled shame and consolation 
 consolation that I did not wholly neglect the great 
 authors of antiquity, and shame that so little of what 
 I read remains. To German literature and philosophy 
 I continued also to devote a part of my time. But 
 latterly I attended fewer lectures, and read more with 
 friends and private tutors. 
 
 On the 8th of August, 1805, I went to Weimar to 
 take leave. The Duchess was exceedingly kind, as also 
 was Wieland. When I called on him he was writing, 
 and I apologized for the interruption. " I am only copy- 
 ing," he said. On my expressing some surprise that 
 he had not an amanuensis, he said, " I believe I have 
 spent one-sixth part of my life in copying, and I have 
 no doubt it has had a salutary effect on me. Having 
 devoted myself to the composition of works of imagi- 
 nation, copying has had a sedative and soothing influence, 
 and tended to keep my mind in a healthy state." He 
 was then copying one of the comedies of Aristophanes. 
 He said he meant to translate all but two, which he 
 deemed untranslatable. One was "Peace;" the title of 
 the other I forget. 
 
 On the 1 5th of August I left Jena. It was my good 
 fortune to come to Jena while the ancient spirit was
 
 at Jena and Weimar. 
 
 221 
 
 still alive and active, and I saw the last not altogether 
 insignificant remains of a knot of public teachers who 
 have seldom been surpassed in any university. I have 
 seen, too, a galaxy of literary talent and genius, 
 which future ages will honour as the poetical ornament 
 of the eighteenth century, and place above the more 
 showy but less sterling beaux-esprits of France who 
 flourished thirty or forty years before. Of my leave- 
 taking at Jena I will only say that I parted with no one 
 with so much regret as Knebel. My friend Voigt 
 accompanied me three leagues. On the 2ist I reached 
 Brunswick, and on the 24th took my place in the Post- 
 wagen to Hamburg. In this journey I had a narrow 
 escape of being taken prisoner. I travelled with a 
 passport, which I had procured as a Saxon. I was 
 not without anxiety, for I had to pass through the 
 French army, which was in possession of the north 
 of Germany. Through the interposition of the King 
 of Prussia, Hamburg had been declared neutral terri- 
 tory ; but I at that time spoke German fluently, and 
 did not fear detection by Frenchmen. A more weari- 
 some journey than the one I had now to make cannot 
 be found, certainly in Germany. One of the passengers 
 was a Frenchman, who rendered himself disagreeable 
 to all the rest. I afterwards found that he was even 
 then in the French service. On the way he and I had 
 two or three rather angry discussions in German. But 
 I was not fully aware till afterwards of the peril I 
 encountered in his company. I read occasionally, and 
 as often as I could walked forward, wishing there had 
 been hills to give -me more opportunity of walking. 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 
 1805. 
 
 A narrow 
 escape.
 
 222 
 
 Narrow Escape, 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 
 1805. 
 
 Danger of 
 
 being taken 
 
 prisoner. 
 
 On one occasion I had gone on a considerable distance, 
 when I came to a turnpike, the keeper of which had 
 a countenance which struck me as remarkably like that 
 of Erskine. Two soldiers were riding at a distance. 
 I said to the man, " Who are they ?" 
 " Gens-d'armes." 
 " What are they about ?" 
 " Looking after suspicious characters." 
 "Do you mean people who have no passes ?" 
 " Ay, and those who have passes Englishmen who 
 try to pass for Germans." 
 
 He laughed, and so did I. It was evident he had 
 detected me, but I was in no danger from him. He 
 said also, " Perhaps they are on the look-out for some 
 one. They have their spies everywhere." This I own 
 made me feel a little uncomfortable, and put me on my 
 guard. In the evening, about six, the second day, we 
 passed through Liineburg, which was full of French 
 soldiers. At length, about I A.M., we arrived at the 
 Elbe, where the military were stationed whose duty it 
 was to examine our passports. But it was too much 
 trouble to rise from bed, and we were at once ferried 
 over the river to the Hamburg side, where we were 
 under Prussian protection. As soon as we were again 
 in the carriage, and in motion, I felt unable to repress 
 my feeling of triumph, and snapping my finger at the 
 Frenchman, said, " Nun, Herr, ich bin ein Englander " 
 ("Now, sir, I am an Englishman"). He did not conceal 
 his mortification, and said, " You ought to have been 
 taken prisoner for your folly in running such a risk " 
 in which perhaps he was not far wrong. Had he dis-
 
 Return to England. 
 
 223 
 
 covered me a quarter of an hour before I should pro- 
 bably have been packed off to France, and kept prisoner 
 till 1813. I was afterwards told by several of my fellow- 
 passengers that they suspected me, and were appre- 
 hensive on my account. 
 
 At Hamburg I saw Iffland in the comedy entitled 
 " Aussteuer," one of the most perfect pieces of acting 
 I ever saw. His character was that of a low-minded 
 Amtmann, an incarnation of apathy. I still recollect 
 his look and voice. They were not to be forgotten. It 
 is the one character in which he appeared most perfect, 
 though I saw him in others of greater celebrity. 
 
 I remained at Hamburg but a short time, returning 
 to England by the ordinary way. 
 
 It was a critical moment. The very packet which 
 took me over to England carried the news of the fatal 
 battle of Austerlitz, which inflicted a deep wound on 
 the already crippled power of Austria. This victory 
 encouraged Buonaparte to fresh insults on Prussia, 
 which soon led to a Prussian war. And as Prussia had 
 looked on quietly, if not complacently, when the battle 
 of Austerlitz was fought, so Austria beheld with a kind 
 of resentful composure the victory gained by the French 
 over the Prussians at Jena. 
 
 On our very disagreeable voyage we were not without 
 fear of being attacked by a French privateer ; but, on 
 the 1 7th of September, we arrived safely at Yarmouth, 
 and on the igih I proceeded to Bury. I enjoyed the 
 drive, the excellence of the roads, and the swiftness 
 of the stage-coach ; and the revival of home feelings 
 delighted me. On the way I saw my father for a 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 
 1805. 
 
 Iffland. 
 
 The Battle 
 of Auster- 
 litz. 
 
 Voyage.
 
 224 
 
 Return to Bury. 
 
 CHAP. ix. 
 
 1805. 
 
 Act of su- 
 perstition. 
 
 moment ; and on arriving at Bury, between twelve and 
 one at night, I ran down to my brother's house to see 
 whether by accident any one of the family was still up. 
 As this was not the case, I went back to the Greyhound 
 to sleep. In my walk I was uncomfortably impressed 
 with the lowness and smallness of the Bury houses. 
 And now I will confess to having indulged myself in 
 a little act of superstition. I had not heard of my 
 brother for some months ; and as a charm against any 
 calamity to him or his family, I enumerated all possible 
 misfortunes, with the feeling which I have had through 
 life, that all calamities come unexpectedly ; and so I 
 tried to ensure a happy meeting by thinking of "all 
 the ills that flesh is heir to."
 
 English Friends. 
 
 22$ 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 1805 1806. 
 
 AFTER my long absence in Germany, it was a great 
 pleasure to see my English friends ; and for some 
 weeks I spent most of my time with them. To, those 
 who lived in the country I paid visits. 
 
 In December I formed a new acquaintance, of which I 
 was reasonably proud, and in the recollection of which 
 I still rejoice. At Hackney I saw repeatedly Miss 
 Wakefield,* a charming girl. And one day at a party, 
 when Mrs. Barbauld had been the subject of conversa- 
 tion, and I had spoken of her in enthusiastic terms, 
 Miss Wakefield came to me and said, " Would you like 
 to know Mrs. Barbauld ? " I exclaimed, " You might 
 as well ask me whether I should like to know the angel 
 Gabriel." " Mrs. Barbauld is, however, much more ac- 
 cessible. I will introduce you to her nephew." She 
 then called to Charles Aikin, whom she soon after 
 married. And he said, " I dine every Sunday with my 
 uncle and aunt at Stoke Newington, and I am expected 
 always to bring a friend with me. Two knives and 
 forks are laid for me. Will you go with me next 
 Sunday ? " Gladly acceding to the proposal, I had the 
 good fortune to make myself agreeable, and soon 
 became intimate in the house. 
 
 * The daughter of Gilbert Wakefield. 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
 CHAP. x. 
 1805 1806. 
 
 Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld.
 
 226 
 
 Mrs. Barbauld. 
 
 CHAP. x. 
 
 1805 1806. 
 
 Mr. Bar- 
 bauld. 
 
 Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld. 
 
 Words- 
 worth and 
 Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld. 
 
 Mr. Barbauld had a slim figure, a weazen face, and a 
 shrill voice. He talked a great deal, and was fond of 
 dwelling on controversial points in religion. He was 
 by no means destitute of ability, though the afflictive 
 disease was lurking in him, which in a few years broke 
 out, and, as is well known, caused a sad termination to 
 his life. 
 
 Mrs. Barbauld bore the remains of great personal 
 beauty. She had a brilliant complexion, light hair, blue 
 eyes, a small elegant figure, and her manners were very 
 agreeable, with something of the generation then de- 
 parting. She received me very kindly, spoke very 
 civilly of my aunt Zachary Crabb, and said she had her- 
 self once slept at my father's house. Mrs. Barbauld is so 
 well known by her prose writings that it is needless for 
 me to attempt to characterize her here. Her excellence 
 lay in the soundness and acuteness of her understanding, 
 and in the perfection of her taste. In the estimation of 
 Wordsworth she was the first of our literary women, 
 and he was not bribed to this judgment by any especial 
 congeniality of feeling, or by concurrence in speculative 
 opinions. I may here relate an anecdote connecting 
 her and Wordsworth, though out of its proper time by 
 many, many years ; but it is so good that it ought to be 
 preserved from oblivion. It was after her death that 
 Lucy Aikin published Mrs. Barbauld's collected works, 
 of which I gave a copy to Miss Wordsworth. Among 
 the poems is a stanza on Life, written in extreme old 
 age. It had delighted my sister, to whom I repeated it 
 on her deathbed. It was long after I gave these works 
 to Miss Wordsworth that her brother said, " Repeat me
 
 Literary Work. 
 
 227 
 
 that stanza by Mrs. Barbauld." I did so. He made 
 me repeat it again. And so he learned it by heart. 
 He was at the time walking in his sitting-room at Rydal 
 with his hands behind him ; and I heard him mutter to 
 himself, " I am not in the habit of grudging people their 
 good things, but I wish I had written those lines." 
 
 " Life ! we've been long together, 
 
 Through pleasant and through cloudy weather : 
 
 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear, 
 
 Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear : 
 
 Then steal away, give little warning, 
 
 Choose thine own time ; 
 
 Say not good night, but in some brighter clime 
 Bid me good morning." 
 
 My friend Collier had taken up his residence in a 
 small house in Little Smith Street, to the west of the 
 Westminster School. A bedroom was offered me, and 
 here I was glad to take refuge while I was equally with- 
 out a home, and without an employment. The most 
 important of his engagements important also to me 
 eventually was that of reporter to the Times, under 
 the management of John Walter, then the junior.* 
 
 When the round of my acquaintance had been run 
 through, I set about finding some literary occupation, 
 for I found myself unable to live with comfort on my 
 small income, though with my economical habits I 
 needed only a small addition. 
 
 My first engagement was to translate a political work 
 against Buonaparte, for which a bookseller named 
 Tipper, of Fenchurch Street, gave me a guinea and a 
 half per sheet. My friend King Fordham thought some 
 diplomatic post abroad would be suitable to me, and 
 
 The father of the recent M.P. for Berkshire. 
 
 Q 2 
 
 CHAP. x. 
 1805 1806. 
 
 J. D. Col- 
 lier. 
 
 1806. 
 Engage- 
 ment in 
 translat- 
 ing.
 
 228 
 
 Plans of Work. 
 
 CHAP. x. 
 
 1806. 
 
 Fulton. 
 
 exerted himself in my behalf. C. J. Fox wrote that he 
 thought it probable he should soon have occasion for 
 the services of a person of my description. I went so 
 far as to offer myself to Mr. Fox, but nothing came of 
 it. And it is well, for I am not conscious of possessing 
 the kind of talent required for the position of a diplo- 
 matist. Another thought was that I might be engaged 
 as travelling companion to some young man. And 
 there was at one time some prospect of my going to 
 America in this capacity. George Dyer suggested my 
 name to a gentleman, whose sons or nephews were 
 desirous of visiting the New World ; and I had several 
 interviews with the celebrated American mechanist 
 Fulton, who invented the Catenarian and Torpedo, and 
 offered to Buonaparte to destroy the whole English 
 fleet by means of explosives. Dining with him one day, 
 I spoke of the "Perpetual Peace" of Kant. Fulton 
 said, " I believe in the ' Perpetual Peace ; ' " and on my 
 expressing surprise, he added, " I have no doubt war 
 will be put an end to by being rendered so murderous 
 that by common consent it will be abandoned. I could 
 myself make a machine by means of which I could in 
 a few minutes destroy a hundred thousand men." After 
 some time I was informed that the visit to America was 
 postponed, and I heard no more of it.* 
 
 It was natural that, after having been away six years, 
 
 * At this time Mr. Robinson had in contemplation a work on Kant's Philo- 
 sophy. Friends advised him not to translate any of Kant's works, but under 
 some original form to introduce a considerable portion of translated matter. 
 He accordingly proceeded so far as to fix on the following title : " Locke and 
 Kant; or, a Review of the Philosophy of the Eighteenth Century as it respects 
 the Origin and Extent of Human Knowledge, by H. C. R." But the work was 
 never completed.
 
 The Fornni. 
 
 229 
 
 I should be curious to see the old Forum where I had 
 formed the valuable acquaintance of the Colliers. They 
 too were desirous that I should go. The old place, the 
 "old familiar faces," were there. I have forgotten the 
 question, but I spoke, and was surprised at the start I 
 had taken. I went a second time, and it was, I believe, 
 this evening that an incident occurred which gave me 
 more pleasure than any other praise I ever received. 
 The subject was private theatricals, which Gale Jones 
 defended, and I successfully attacked. I say success- 
 fully, for the success was proved by something more 
 significant than applause. As I left the room with Mrs. 
 Collier, when it was nearly empty, a little old man was 
 waiting about at the door with a fine young girl under 
 his arm, and on my coming up he stretched out his 
 hand, and in an agitated voice said, "Will you allow me, 
 sir, to take you by the hand, and thank you for your 
 speech to-night ? You have made me a happy man, 
 and I am under everlasting obligations to you." The 
 poor girl coloured exceedingly, and I felt for her. I 
 therefore contented myself with saying that I rejoiced 
 if anything that had fallen from me could be thought 
 by him eventually useful ; and I believe I added, that I 
 wished him to know I had spoken not for the sake of 
 argument, but from my heart. 
 
 In the following week I went to the Forum once 
 more. On my walking up the centre of the room there 
 was general clapping, at which I felt so unaffectedly 
 ashamed, that I turned back, and never entered the 
 place again. 
 
 On November 4th I saw "Coriolanus." It was a 
 
 CHAP. x. 
 
 1806. 
 
 Debate on 
 Private 
 Theatri- 
 cals.
 
 230 
 
 Charles Lamb. 
 
 CHAP. x. 
 1806. 
 
 John Kem- 
 
 ble in Corio- 
 
 lanus. 
 
 Charlesand 
 Mary 
 Lamb. 
 
 Farce of 
 Mr. H. 
 
 glorious treat. I never saw Kemble so great. He 
 played the aristocrat so admirably, and the democratic 
 tribunes and the electors of Rome appeared so con- 
 temptible, that he drew down hisses on them. The 
 house was crowded, and I was forced to stand. 
 
 In the month of December the Colliers removed from 
 Little Smith Street to a good house in Hatton Garden, 
 and I accompanied them. 
 
 By this time I had become acquainted with Charles 
 Lamb and his sister ; for I went with them to the 
 first performance of "Mr. H." at Covent Garden, 
 which took place in the month of December. The 
 prologue was very well received. Indeed it could 
 not fail, being one of the very best in our language. 
 But on the disclosure of the name, the squeamishness of 
 the vulgar taste in the pit showed itself by hisses ; and 
 I recollect that Lamb joined, and was probably the 
 loudest hisser in the house. The damning of this play 
 belongs to the literary history of the day, as its author 
 to the literary magnates of his age.* 
 
 I was introduced to the Lambs by Mrs. Clarkson. 
 And I had heard of them also from W. Hazlitt, who 
 was intimate with them. They were then living in a 
 garret in Inner Temple Lane. In that humble apart- 
 ment I spent many happy hours, and saw a greater 
 number of excellent persons than I had ever seen 
 collected together in one room. Talfourd, in his " Final 
 Memorials," has happily characterized this circle. 
 
 * The farce of " Mr. H." was written by Lamb. Its absurdity turns on the 
 hero being ashamed of his name, which is only revealed at the end as Hogs- 
 flesh.
 
 Times Correspondent. 
 
 231 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 1 807. 
 
 IN January 1807 I received, through my friend J. D. 
 Collier, a proposal from Mr. Walter that I should take 
 up my residence at Altona, and become the Times 
 correspondent. I was to receive from the editor of the 
 Hamburger Correspondentcn all the public documents 
 at his disposal, and was to have the benefit also of a 
 mass of information of which the restraints of the 
 German press did not permit him to avail himself. The 
 honorarium I was to receive was ample with my 
 habits of life. I gladly accepted the offer, and never 
 repented having done so. My acquaintance with 
 Walter ripened into friendship, and lasted as long 
 as he lived. 
 
 This engagement made me for the first time a man of 
 business. How I executed my task may be seen by a 
 file of the Times. My articles are from " the banks of 
 the Elbe;" the first is dated in March and the last in 
 August, but there followed three letters from Stockholm 
 and Gottenburg.* 
 
 This correspondence, from " the banks of the Elbe," has reference to the 
 hopes and fears and reports, which ended in the fall of Dantzic, the Battle of 
 Friedland, and the Treaty of Tilsit. The immediate cause of Mr. Robinson's 
 leaving Altona was that naval coalition against England, which rendered it 
 necessary for the British Government to send Lord Cathcart to Copenhagen to 
 secure the Danish fleet. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Correspon- 
 dent of the 
 Times.
 
 232 
 
 Friends 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Dr. Ehlers. 
 
 A Itona. 
 
 Having defeated the Prussians at Jena, Napoleon had 
 advanced into Poland, and the anxious attention of all 
 Europe was directed to the campaign now going on 
 there. Hamburg was in the possession of the French. 
 Holstein, appertaining to the kingdom of Denmark, 
 was a neutral frontier province ; and Altona, its capital, 
 was to be my residence as long as it continued to be 
 secure, and as the intelligence of the campaign had 
 interest for English politicians. 
 
 I soon made my arrival known to my one only ac- 
 quaintance, Dr. Ehlers, who, however, was sufficient for 
 all purposes, as he forthwith initiated me into the best 
 society of the place, and provided for my personal 
 comforts by obtaining for me a lodging in a very 
 agreeable family. I lived in the Konigstrasse, in the 
 house of Mr. Pauli, a mercantile agent, who had not 
 been prosperous in business, but who was most happy 
 in his wife a very sensible and interesting woman, the 
 sister of Poel, the proprietor of the Altona Mercury, 
 a political newspaper in which liberal principles were 
 asserted with discretion and propriety. Peel's wife was 
 also a woman of great personal worth, and even of 
 personal attractions, a daughter of the celebrated Pro- 
 fessor Busch of Hamburg. These ladies had a friend, 
 Madame Sieveking, who formed with them a society 
 which in few places is equalled. She was a widow, 
 residing at Hamburg, and was a daughter of the well- 
 known Reimarus. On the borders of the Elbe, Poel 
 had a country house, where, especially on Sundays, there 
 used to be delightful dinner-parties. In this house my 
 happiest hours were spent.
 
 at Altona. 
 
 233 
 
 Among the most interesting of those, whose images 
 still live in my memory, is the Count d'Angiviller. 
 He had held in the court of Louis XVI. the office of 
 Intendant of the Palaces, i.e. was a sort of Minister of 
 Woods and Forests. His post gave him extensive 
 patronage among artists and men of letters, with all 
 of whom he had lived on terms of intimacy. His tall 
 person, very dignified manners, rank, and advanced age 
 combined to render him an object of universal interest. 
 I was proud when I . could get into conversation with 
 him. One evening, at a party, I chanced to make use 
 of the phrase " Diderot et D'Alembert." He instantly 
 put his hand on my shoulder, and said, "Je vous prie, 
 monsieur, de ne prononcer jamais ces noms au meme 
 temps dans ma presence. Vous me blessez les oreilles." 
 I will not answer precisely for the words, but in sub- 
 stance he continued, " Diderot was a monster, guilty of 
 every vice, but D'Alembert was an angel." 
 
 At the hotel I first saw George Stansfeld,* a young 
 man from Leeds, who came to learn German and to 
 qualify himself for mercantile life. We became intimate 
 and mutually serviceable ; and my friendship with him 
 extended afterwards in England to all the members of 
 his family. 
 
 I met one French man of letters, who has a name in 
 connection with German philosophy. I thought his 
 manners agreeable, but he did not appear to me likely 
 to recommend the Kantian philosophy successfully to 
 his countrymen. Yet his book, an account of Kant's 
 philosophy, supplied for many years the sole informa- 
 
 * The uncle of the present M. P. for Halifax. 
 
 CHAP. xr. 
 1807. 
 
 Count 
 
 d Angivil- 
 
 ler. 
 
 G. Stans- 
 feld. 
 
 Charles 
 Villers.
 
 234 
 
 Employments 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 
 1807. 
 
 Knebel and 
 Voigt. 
 
 tion possessed by the French on that subject. His 
 name was Charles Villers. 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS BROTHER. 
 
 *c 
 
 Altona, March 2$rd, 1807. 
 Dear Thomas, 
 
 My time has been spent very 
 
 pleasurably indeed. I have seldom in so short a time 
 made the acquaintance of so many excellent persons. 
 My usual good fortune has brought me into the most 
 intelligent circle in Altona ; so that my second resi- 
 dence in Germany yields as much enjoyment as my 
 former. I have at the same time been able to renew 
 my old acquaintances by letter. I have heard from 
 Herr von Knebel and Dr. Voigt. Both of them have 
 had the good fortune to suffer little or nothing per- 
 sonally by the war ; and Voigt seems rather to have 
 enjoyed the scenes he has witnessed. Napoleon took 
 up his lodgings in Voigt's father's house, and dwelt in 
 a room where I have lounged many an hour. This at 
 once secured the house from being plundered, and at 
 the same time gave Voigt an opportunity of seeing 
 most of the Marshals of France and the ruling men of 
 the only ruling power in Europe. Knebel writes with 
 more feeling, but with the resignation of a philosopher, 
 who had foreseen all that has happened, and whose 
 sensations are corrected by an admiration of Buonaparte, 
 which was a source of contention between us, and a 
 contempt of the German constitution and Princes, in 
 which I joined with him
 
 at Altona. 
 
 235 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS BROTHER. 
 
 Altona, June 7th, 1807. 
 
 How do I spend my time ? I 
 
 will give a sort of average journal. I rise at seven, and 
 carry into a summer-house in the garden my Italian 
 books ; here I prepare my lesson till nine, when my 
 master comes, and with him a fellow-scholar (a very 
 amiable man who holds an office under Government, 
 and is also a man of letters). From nine to ten we 
 receive our Italian lesson that is, four mornings of 
 the week. On Sundays and the two post mornings 
 (Wednesday and Saturday) my companion has letters 
 of business to write, and therefore we cannot have 
 lessons. The rest of the morning is spent either in 
 reading Italian or at the Museum. This is a sort of 
 London Institution in miniature here the newsmongers 
 of the day associate every member brings his quota 
 of falsehood or absurdity, reason or facts, as his good 
 luck favours him. Unfortunately, the former are the 
 ordinary commodities, and I have no little difficulty in 
 understanding or appreciating the fables of the hour. 
 There is more bonhommie than ill-will in this. Every 
 one feels what ought to take place, and every one is apt 
 to confound what ought to be, and what he wishes to 
 be, with what is. Hence we are as often taken in by 
 certain intelligence of Russian and Prussian victories 
 as you can be. Here, too, the politics of the English 
 cabinet are reviewed ; and I hear my old friends the 
 Whig ministers derided and reproached for their 
 scandalously weak, almost treacherous administration, 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Mode of 
 spending 
 the day. 
 
 Politics.
 
 236 
 
 Politics 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Friends at 
 Altona. 
 
 Political 
 expecta- 
 tions. 
 
 while I am unable to say a word in their defence, and 
 can only mutter between my teeth, " God grant that we 
 do not jump out of the frying-pan into the fire ! " At 
 half-past one I dine in the house of a clergyman, who, 
 having no wife, keeps a table for a number of bachelors 
 like himself. Our dinner is not very good, but it is very 
 cheap, and the company is better than the dishes. 
 We have two Danish officers, two physicians (one a 
 man of talent, but a political despairer, an ex-jacobin), 
 two jurists, two Englishmen. The other is a young 
 man from Leeds (his name is Stansfeld), for whom I felt 
 something like friendship when I found he is a Presby- 
 terian After dinner I either lounge with a 
 
 book on the Elbe, or play chess with Mrs. Liitchens, 
 a clever woman, the wife of Liitchens whom I have 
 before mentioned as an old acquaintance of Mr. Clark- 
 son. In the evening I am engaged generally about 
 three times a week in company. Otherwise I go to 
 Aders (Jameson's partner), a very clever, agreeable 
 man ; or he and one or two young men take tea with 
 me. It is thus that day after day has slipt away in- 
 sensibly, and I have been in danger of forgetting that 
 the continuance of this most agreeable life is very pre- 
 carious indeed. I am of opinion that it cannot possibly 
 last long. In all probability we shall soon hear of a 
 peace with Russia, or of a general engagement, which, 
 it is ten to one, will end in the defeat of the Allies. In 
 either event I have no doubt the French will take 
 possession of Holstein. I am tolerably easy as to my 
 personal security in this event, and should I even be 
 caught napping and find a couple of gens-d'armes at
 
 at Altona. 
 
 237 
 
 the side of my bed when I awake some morning, the 
 worst would be an imprisonment. I state the worst, 
 hope the best, and expect neither the one nor the other. 
 As long as Russia continues to bid defiance to Buona- 
 parte, we shall be unmolested here. When this last 
 protecting power is crushed or prevented from interfer- 
 ing in the concerns of the South, it is not difficult to 
 foretell the measures the conqueror will take. Austria 
 will again be partitioned, the northern maritime powers 
 will be forced to shut up the Baltic, and perhaps arm 
 their fleets against us. And the blockade 'will cease 
 to be a mere bugbear. Then Napoleon will have to 
 choose between an invasion, which will be a short but 
 hazardous experiment ; or, being now (thanks to our 
 Whig administration) so closely allied to Turkey, he 
 will turn his arms into the East and destroy our Indian 
 empire by an attack from the interior. This latter un- 
 dertaking would suit the romantic valour and vanity of 
 himself and his people. These things may be prevented 
 by more military skill on the part of the Russians, 
 more character and resolution on the part of the 
 Austrians, and more disinterested zeal in the general 
 cause of Europe on the part of the British administra- 
 tion, than I fear any of these bodies severally possess. 
 The world might be saved if it did not still suffer under 
 an infatuation which resembles that of the Egyptian 
 monarch " And the Lord struck Pharaoh with blind- 
 ness." How many Pharaohs have not sat as then 
 twenty years on the thrones of Europe ? 
 
 But I have omitted some particulars in the account of 
 myself here, which I must insert. Of all my acquaint- 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Politics. 
 
 Mr. Poel.
 
 238 
 
 Uncertainties 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 
 1807. 
 
 Post stopped 
 
 between 
 Altona and 
 England. 
 
 Progress of 
 
 the French 
 
 arms. 
 
 ances, the most interesting is Mr. Poel. He is the 
 brother of my landlady, proprietor of the Altona Mer- 
 cury, a man of letters, affluent and hospitable. He 
 keeps a good table, and gives dinners and suppers 
 several times a week. He was an ardent friend of the 
 French Revolution, but is now in all things an anti- 
 Gallican. But he is one of the few who, like Mrs. 
 Barbauld's lover, will still "hope though hope were lost." 
 He is persuaded that in the end the good cause will 
 conquer 
 
 In my attention to the incidents of the day I was 
 unremitting. I kept up a constant intercourse with 
 England. On my first arrival I learned that, notwith- 
 standing the affected neutrality of Denmark, the post 
 from Altona to England was stopped, and, in conse- 
 quence, all letters were sent by Mr. Thornton, the 
 English minister there,* privately to Husum. I called 
 on him early, informed him I should regularly send 
 letters under cover to the Foreign Office, which he 
 promised should be punctually delivered. And he kept 
 his word. 
 
 The progress of the French arms in Poland was the 
 object of overwhelming interest, and the incessant sub- 
 ject of conversation with all of us. As we had but one 
 political feeling for I cannot call to mind having met 
 with a single partisan of Napoleon our social inter- 
 course was not enlivened by contest ; but I perceived that 
 as the events became more disastrous, our cordiality 
 increased, and that calamity served to cement friendship. 
 
 * He was Minister Plenipotentiary to the Hanse Towns.
 
 at Altona. 
 
 239 
 
 I see from my notes that on the 2Oth of. June the 
 fatal news arrived of the great victory obtained over the 
 Russians at Friedland, on the I4th. In ten days we 
 were further informed of the armistice, which on the 
 7th of July was succeeded by the peace. But afflicting 
 as these public events were to all of us, it was not till 
 the middle of July that they began to affect me person- 
 ally. On the I4th I learned that Mr. Thornton was 
 gone. We had already heard reports that the English 
 fleet was in the Sound, and the seizure of the 
 Danish fleet by the English was the subject of spe- 
 culation. Had I left Altona then, I could not have 
 been reproached for cowardice ; but I made up my 
 mind to remain where I was, until some act on the 
 part of the Government rendered my departure abso- 
 lutely necessary. 
 
 Among the persons whose acquaintance I made at 
 Poel's, was Major von Spat, the second in command in 
 the town, under the chief magistrate, the Biirgermeister. 
 With the Biirgermeister himself I used to play whist 
 at the Museum. After the departure of Mr. Thornton, 
 and other Englishmen, who had followed his example, 
 I met the Major and said, " Do you not think, Major, 
 that I am a very bold man in staying here, now that 
 our minister is gone?" "Not at all," he answered. 
 " The Danish Government is much too honourable to 
 resent on individuals, who are living in confidence in 
 these dominions, the injustice of a foreign power." 
 But, in the meanwhile, I took care to put my things in 
 order, that, if necessary, I might decamp with the least 
 possible incumbrance. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Battle of 
 Friedland. 
 
 Major von 
 Split.
 
 240 
 
 Orders to arrest 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Strange be- 
 haviour vf 
 the Burger- 
 meister. 
 
 On Sunday, the i6th, however, two days before the 
 actual bombardment of Copenhagen, an end was put to 
 these* uncertainties, and to my residence in Holstein. 
 In the forenoon I had a call from Mr. Aldebert, my 
 first German friend, with whom I went to Germany in 
 1800, and who had property to a considerable amount 
 warehoused in this town. 
 
 He, his clerk (Pietsch), another German, and myself, 
 dined at Rainville's beautiful hotel. It was a fine day, 
 and, as usual on Sundays, the gardens of the hotel were 
 full of company. And here the Major renewed his 
 assurance of my safety, " even should a war break out." 
 After dinner I had a stroll with Stansfeld, who had 
 removed to Hamburg, but had come over to see me. 
 About five o'clock, I paid a visit to Madame Liatchens, 
 whose husband was English, and in the service of the 
 English Government, in the commissariat department. 
 A month before, as I knew in confidence, he had pro- 
 ceeded to Stralsund. After an hour's chat with her 
 I was going home, when I saw the Burgermeister in the 
 street, talking with an acquaintance ; but, on my going 
 up to them, he turned away abruptly, affecting not to 
 see me. I thought this gross ill manners, and not 
 warranted even by the reported demonstrations of 
 hostility towards Denmark by England. By reference 
 to the "Annual Register" I find it was on the I2th that. 
 Lord Cathcart, with a force of 20,000 men, joined the 
 Admiral off Elsinore, and on the i6th (the day of which 
 I am now speaking) that the army landed on the island 
 of Zealand, eight miles from Copenhagen. But, of 
 course, the public at Altona knew nothing correctly of
 
 Englishmen. 
 
 241 
 
 these proceedings. On my way to Poel's in the evening 
 I was met by William Sieveking, one of the sons oi 
 the lady whom I have mentioned. He had an air oi 
 anxiety about him, and told me I was wanted imme- 
 diately at Mr. Poel's. I must go 'at once something 
 was the matter, but he could not say what. A large 
 party of ladies were in the garden, and as soon as 
 Madame Poel saw me, she exclaimed, "Thank God 
 there he is he at least is safe ! " I was then informed 
 that Major von Spat had been there in great trouble. 
 The Biirgermeister had received an order to arrest every 
 Englishman, and at midnight there was to be a visitation 
 of all the houses occupied by the English. The Major 
 could not bear the thought of my being arrested, for 
 perhaps I had remained there trusting to his assurance 
 of my safety. I was therefore told that I must stay the 
 night at Poel's country house, and be smuggled next 
 day into Hamburg. But to this I would not consent. 
 I insisted on at least going back to my lodgings to put 
 money in my purse ; and, disguising myself by borrow- 
 ing a French hat, I immediately went back. Having 
 arranged my own little matters, I resolved to give notice 
 to all my fellow-countrymen with whose residences I 
 was acquainted. And so effectual were my services 
 in this respect, that no one, whom I knew, was arrested. 
 Indeed the arrests were confined to a few journeymen, 
 who were not considered worth keeping. Of course the 
 Holsteiners had no wish to make prisoners, and there- 
 fore did their work very negligently. 
 
 I will relate a few anecdotes which have dwelt in my 
 memory ever since. I need not say that the apparent 
 VOL. I. R 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 
 1807. 
 
 Hurried 
 departure.
 
 242 
 
 Orders to arrest Englishmen. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Ogilvy. 
 
 Incidents of 
 escape. 
 
 Pietsch. 
 
 rudeness of the Biirgermeister, which had so much 
 annoyed me, was now accounted for. 
 
 There was one Ogilvy, a merchant, who resided with 
 a lawyer, and to whom I sent the servant with a note. 
 I was in a flurry, and wrote on a slip of paper, which 
 was kept as a curiosity, and laughed at. It was shown 
 to me afterwards at Hamburg. I had written on it 
 these words : " They'll catch us if they can to-night. I 
 mean the Danes. I'm off. H. C. R." It was shown 
 to the master of the house. "That Robinson is an 
 arrant coward. It is nothing ; you may depend on it." 
 However, at midnight the police were at the door, 
 and demanded admittance. When asked whether Mr. 
 Ogilvy was at home, the servant, being forewarned, had 
 a prompt answer : " I don't know. That's his room. He 
 often sleeps at Hamburg." The police went in, and 
 said to the sleeper, " You are our prisoner." On which 
 Ogilvy's " German servant " awoke. " Why, who are you ? " 
 " Mr. Ogilvy's servant. My master went to Hamburg 
 last night, and as his bed is softer than mine, I sleep in 
 his when he is away." " Oh, that is it ? Well, it is lucky 
 for him, for we should have taken him. We have 
 nothing to say to you." " The stupids ! " said Ogilvy ; 
 " there was my watch on the table, and my clothes were 
 about the room." Rather say, " Good-natured fellows." 
 
 I sent a note to Pietsch also. He had more than a 
 thousand pounds' worth of Manchester goods in a ware- 
 house. In haste he removed them into a coach-house, 
 and covered them with loose straw. The police came, 
 demanded the keys of the warehouse, sealed door and 
 windows with the Government seal, and threatened
 
 Dangers. 
 
 243 
 
 Pietsch with imprisonment if he broke the seal, or 
 entered the warehouse. He solemnly promised he 
 would not, and most honourably kept his word. In the 
 course of a few nights all the goods were transported 
 over the Elbe. The empty warehouse was formally 
 opened by the Government officers, after the seals had 
 been carefully examined, and it had been found that 
 Pietsch had most conscientiously kept his promise. 
 
 There was then at Altona a Leeds merchant, named 
 Bischoff, a connection of Stansfeld's. I did not know 
 the name of the street in which he lived, and so was 
 forced to go myself. He was in bed. Young Stansfeld 
 accompanied me, and we went together into his room. 
 After he had heard my story, he said to Stansfeld, 
 " 1st das wahr was er sagt ? " (" Is what he says true ? ") 
 I was half angry, and left him to give notice to one 
 who would receive it more gratefully. There was, how- 
 ever, another Englishman in the house, and he thought 
 it prudent to give heed to the warning ; they went 
 out, and begged a lodging in the stable of a garden- 
 house in the suburb leading to Poel's. There they 
 slept. At daybreak, the morning was so fine that they 
 could not believe there was any evil going on. The 
 sunshine made them discredit the story, and they re- 
 solved to re-enter the town. Fortunately they saw the 
 servant of Pauli at the gate. " Is Mr. Robinson at 
 home ? " " No, sir, he went away last night, and it is 
 well he did, for at midnight there came some soldiers 
 to take him up." This was enough. Bischoff and 
 Elwin took to their heels, and not daring to go into 
 Hamburg by the Altona gate, made a circuit of many 
 
 R 2 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Warning 
 to friends.
 
 244 
 
 Escape, 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 
 1807. 
 
 Landing at 
 Hamburg. 
 
 miles, and did not arrive at Hamburg till late in the 
 day. 
 
 Having done all that patriotic good-nature required 
 of me, and left everything in order, I went back to 
 Neuemiihle, where a bed was provided for me. Early in 
 the morning Poel said, "You cannot possibly remain here. 
 You must go immediately after breakfast to Hamburg. 
 I have ordered a boat to be here, and my children, 
 and some of the Paulis and Sievekings, shall go with 
 you ; and if you are questioned you will be the tutor." 
 Accordingly there was a boat well filled by the tutor 
 and his pupils. We rowed towards the town, where 
 I noticed at the gate some soldiers sitting in a boat. 
 This was unusual, and seemed to me suspicious. So, as 
 we were approaching, I said to the boatman, " I never 
 saw Altona from the Hanover side of the river. It must 
 look very pretty from a distance." " Ay, sir, it does," 
 said the man. " I should like to see it. I'll give you a 
 klein Thaler (about 2s.) if you will row us to that side."- 
 " Thankee, sir," said the man ; and instantly we crossed 
 the Thalweg, that is, the centre of the river. Now, it 
 would have been a breach of neutrality a crime, in any 
 police officers to make an arrest on the Hanoverian ter- 
 ritory, which included the left side of the river, and I 
 was there safe. To be perfectly secure, I would not land 
 at the first Hamburg gate, but was rowed to the second.* 
 There the tutor dismissed his pupils, and I went in 
 search of Mr. Aldebert at his lodgings. 
 
 I found a post-chaise at his door. Pietsch had in- 
 formed him of what he had been doing on the notice I 
 
 * The French took possession of Hamburg after the battle of Jena, in i8o5.
 
 Anxieties at Hamburg. 
 
 245 
 
 had given him ; and Mr. Aldebert was then going to 
 Altona partly to look after me. After thanking me for 
 the service I had rendered him, he said, " I have provided 
 for you here. I occupy the first floor, indeed all the 
 apartments not occupied by the family ; but there is a 
 very small garret in which you can sleep, and you can 
 use my rooms as your own." No arrangement could be 
 better ; and as on the same evening he left for several 
 days, I had the use of his handsome apartments. The 
 house was in the Neue Wall, one of the most respectable 
 streets : it was among those burnt down in the late 
 conflagration.* But I cannot pretend that my mind was 
 quite at ease, or that I was not sensible of the peril of 
 my situation. 
 
 My clothes were brought piecemeal, and at last came 
 my empty trunk. Among the German merchants I 
 had several acquaintances, and I occasionally met my 
 English fellow-refugees. The French Government at 
 this moment cared nothing about us ; nor the Danish, 
 as it seemed, though, as I afterwards learned, I was an 
 exception to this general indifference. 
 
 I have a very imperfect recollection of the incidents 
 of the next few days, and I did not think it prudent to 
 keep in my possession letters or memoranda which 
 might compromise my friends. 
 
 H. C. R. TO J. D. COLLIER, ESQ. 
 
 Hamburg, August 22nd, 1807. 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 You may think that a long letter 
 
 of gossip would be very charming from a person in my 
 
 * This was written in 1853; the fire took place in 1842. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Refuge in 
 Mr. Alde- 
 bert's lodg- 
 ings.
 
 246 
 
 Anxieties 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Letter from 
 H. C. jR. 
 
 Alarm of 
 friends. 
 
 situation ; it would be absolutely romantic, and would be 
 as far preferable to one from an ordinary correspondent, 
 as an elopement in the eyes of Miss Lydia Languish 
 to being asked at church. This is all very well for 
 the reader, but not so for the writer. Give me leave to 
 assure you that a man who is a prisoner, or, what is 
 much the same thing, liable to become so every hour of 
 his life, has little inclination to sit down and, as the 
 phrase is, open his heart to his friends, because he is 
 never sure that his enemies may not chuse at the same 
 
 time to take a peep In the meanwhile 
 
 I shall be forced to abstain from the enjoyment of 
 almost all direct communication with my friends at 
 
 home Within the last three days nothing 
 
 of importance has occurred. 
 
 25 th August. Hitherto my good spirits 
 
 have not often left me ; and I assure you it is the 
 reflected concern of my different friends at home that 
 most affects me. I must add, too, that I feel my own 
 personal affairs to be infinitely insignificant compared 
 with the dreadful calamity that overhangs us all. Never 
 
 was England so nearly in the jaws of ruin 
 
 My late escape and that of my countrymen has occasioned 
 me to observe many interesting and gratifying scenes. 
 I, for my part, felt more flattered by being the object 
 of concern to so many charming women, than alarmed 
 by the personal danger. I have also made an observa- 
 tion curious to the psychologist, and that is the perfect 
 repose which arises from the consciousness that nothing 
 further is to be done by one's self. Formerly, when I came 
 now and then to Hamburg to buy an old book or chat
 
 at Hamburg. 
 
 247 
 
 with a friend, it was done with great anxiety ; and I 
 was not at ease till again within the Altona gates. Now 
 I am quite comfortable, though the danger is ten times 
 greater. I can do no more than I have done. If I am 
 taken, I shall bear as well as I can the positive evils of 
 imprisonment ; but I shall suffer no reproaches from 
 myself nor fear those of others. And it is this which I 
 am most apprehensive of. If I had the means of 
 escape, and was doubtful whether I should avail myself 
 of them, I should be in constant alarm and perturba- 
 tion ; but now I have nothing to do but to amuse myself 
 as well as I can, and watch for opportunities of getting 
 off, if any should offer. I am, generally, speaking com- 
 fortable. I am not without companions. My kind 
 respects to all. 
 
 On the 1 9th I accompanied a merchant of the name 
 of Kaufmann to his country house at an adjacent 
 village, Ham, and strolled about in an unsettled state ; 
 and day by day I gained courage ; but on the 25 th I 
 again narrowly escaped capture. 
 
 My friend, the Major, called on me to warn me that 
 I must be on my guard. The Governor, or Biirger- 
 meister, Mr. Levezow, had said to him that, excepting 
 myself, he was very glad all the English had escaped. 
 The suspicion had entered his mind that I was a secret 
 agent of the Government. I could not, he thought, be 
 living at such a place at such a time without some 
 especial purpose. " And I think " (added Von Spat), 
 "that he has given a hint to the French authorities." 
 I assured the Major that the suspicion was unfounded, 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 especially 
 suspected.
 
 248 
 
 Anxieties at Hamburg. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Second nar- 
 row escape. 
 
 and explained to him what might have given occasion 
 to the mistake. " He was glad," he said, " to know this, 
 and he would take care to inform Mr. Levezow of what 
 I had told him." 
 
 It was, however, too late ; for a few hours afterwards, 
 as I was returning home, after a short walk, my atten- 
 tion was excited by a sound St! st! But for the infor- 
 mation I had just received, I should hardly have noticed 
 it. I looked, and saw a fellow the letter-carrier between 
 Hamburg and Altona, who knew me well, beckoning 
 to some persons at a little distance ; and at the same 
 time, he looked back and pointed at me. At a glance 
 I perceived that they were French gens-d'armes. They 
 were lolling by the side of a passage, and within sight 
 of my door. 
 
 In an instant I was off. I ran into a market-place 
 full of people, and was not pursued. If I had been, I 
 have no doubt the populace would have aided my 
 escape. I repaired to the house of one of Mr. Alde- 
 bert's friends, a Mr. Spalding, a senator. There I 
 dined. I told my story, and it was agreed that I 
 should not sleep again at my lodgings. The next day 
 but one Mr. Spalding was going to the Mecklenburg 
 watering-place, Dobberan, with his family. He would 
 take a passport for his clerk, and in that capacity I 
 might accompany him. 
 
 The intermediate day was spent in removing my 
 clothes and taking leave of my friends. Yet in that 
 day I twice thought I saw a suspicious person lurking 
 in the vicinity of my last asylum ; and next day, when 
 I had left the town several hours, my lodging was beset
 
 Dobberan. 
 
 249 
 
 by the military. Some gens-d'armes, without asking 
 any questions, went to my garret, burst open the door, 
 and expressed great disappointment at finding the room 
 empty. They used violent threats towards the women 
 of the house, who told the truth with equal safety to 
 themselves and me. Through a friend I had obtained 
 from the French authorities a visa to my old Jena pass ; 
 and I had a passport from Netzel, the Swedish consul 
 at Altona, with a letter from him, which might, and in 
 fact did, prove useful. Dobberan was then a small 
 village, with a few large houses to accommodate the 
 bathing guests ; but the sea was nearly three miles 
 off. Travelling all night, we arrived on the following 
 day, in time to dine at a table with 150 covers, at 
 which the sovereign Duke, though absent this day, was 
 accustomed to take a seat. 
 
 I had now to ascertain what vessels were about to 
 set sail for Sweden. In the afternoon I took a solitary 
 walk to the seaside. There I found none of the " airy 
 forces" which, according to Dr. Watts's bad sapphic, 
 " roll down the Baltic with a foaming fury," but a naked 
 sea-coast with a smooth sea, enlivened by a distant view 
 of several English men-of-war, part of a blockading 
 squadron. 
 
 Next day I took a walk of about ten miles to the 
 little town of Rostock a university town, and also a sea- 
 port. But no vessel was there ; nor had I any prospect 
 of being able to make my escape. In ordinary circum- 
 stances, indeed, escape would be an unmeaning term, for 
 I was known to the sovereign, who had occasionally 
 chatted with me at Altona. I took an early opportunity 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 
 1807. 
 
 Dobberan. 
 
 Rostock.
 
 250 
 
 Rostock. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 The Duke 
 of Meck- 
 lenburg- 
 Schwerin. 
 
 of calling upon one of his household, and begged I 
 might be excused for not waiting on His Serene High- 
 ness, as I was aware of his position, and was anxious 
 not to embarrass him. This message was very cour- 
 teously received. I was assured of every protection 
 in the Duke's power; but was requested not to call 
 myself an Englishman, and excuse his affecting not 
 to know me. 
 
 The good Duke, however, could not act on his own 
 sage counsel, for, as I was one day not far from him 
 at the table-d'hote, but carefully avoiding speaking 
 to him or catching his eye, I was surprised by hearing 
 behind me in a loud whisper, " Prosit Herr Englander." 
 His Serene Highness had filled a bumper, and leaning 
 back behind the guests, drank to me as an Englishman, 
 though he had pretended to consider me an American. 
 And one morning, having walked to the seaside, and 
 jumped into the water from a long board built into 
 the sea (the humble accommodation provided in those 
 days), I was startled by a loud cry, which proceeded 
 from the Duke at the end of the board " Herr Eng- 
 lander, Herr Englander, steigen Sie gleich aus 10,000 
 Franzosen sind gleich angekommen, und wenn Sie nicht 
 aussteigen und weglaufen, wird man Sie arretiren." 
 (" Make haste out, Englishman- 10,000 Frenchmen are 
 just come, and unless you come out and run for it, 
 you will be made a prisoner.") 
 
 More good nature than dignity in this certainly. 
 But the Duke of Mecklenburg - Schwerin was one of 
 that class of petty sovereigns in Germany, who, if they 
 conferred no honour on their rank and power, did not
 
 Companions at Wismar. 
 
 251 
 
 abuse them to the injury of their subjects. I had a 
 formal offer from him to send me on board the fleet, 
 which was in the offing, if I would guarantee the safety 
 of his men. This offer I declined. I could be more 
 sure of being taken in than set down again. And 
 meanwhile I relied on the friendly interest which every 
 one took in me ; for, though the Mecklenburg flag had 
 been declared hostile, I was satisfied that every one 
 whom I saw was well disposed towards me. 
 
 On the evening of the 1st of September, I received 
 a letter informing me that a ship was on the point of 
 sailing from Wismar to Stockholm. Next day I pro- 
 ceeded to Wismar, where I remained till the 8th. The 
 only circumstance which made me remember these few 
 days was the intercourse which I had with the guests 
 at the inn, and which I recall with pleasure as evidence 
 of the kindness of disposition generally found among 
 those who are free to be actuated by their natural 
 feelings. 
 
 On the evening of my arrival the waiter laid me a 
 cover near the head of the table. Above me sat a 
 colonel of Napoleon's Italian Guard, who was resting 
 here for a few weeks after the fatigues of the campaign 
 ended by the recent peace. At the head of the table 
 was a Dutch general, then on his way to join Napoleon 
 in Prussia. Other officers were present; and there 
 were also civilians, chiefly merchants. 
 
 I passed myself for a German, talking bad French 
 to the Italians, with whom I soon became well 
 acquainted, and remained on the best terms till my 
 departure. They were glad to read a few very common 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Wismar. 
 
 Com- 
 panions at 
 the inn.
 
 252 
 
 Companions at Wismar. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Italian offi- 
 cers in the 
 French ser- 
 vice. 
 
 Good -will 
 
 of the 
 
 Dutch. 
 
 Italian books, which I was able to lend them. Without 
 any hypocrisy, I could praise Italian literature ; and I 
 found I could with perfect safety abuse the French. 
 Is it not to be lamented " (I said in one of our walks 
 after dinner) " that Italy, which in former ages has been 
 the mistress of the world in different ways, should 
 be overpowered by a nation that never produced a 
 great man ? " This was strong, but not too strong. 
 The eyes of my companions glistened with pleasure. 
 One of them exclaimed, "Don't suppose it is the 
 Italians who are conquered by the French. It is the 
 French who are governed by an Italian. As long as 
 Napoleon lives he will be master of Europe. As soon 
 as he goes Italy will be independent ! " " I hope to 
 God it will be so!" Sometimes I ventured to touch 
 on Buonaparte himself ; but that was tender ground. 
 They looked grave, and I stopped. On general 
 politics they talked freely. They had liberal opinions, 
 but little information, were a sort of republican fol- 
 lowers of Buonaparte, good-natured men, with little 
 intelligence, and no fixed principles of any kind, 
 especially on religion. 
 
 One evening a Dutch merchant came. He looked me 
 full in the face and said, " Napoleon is all but omnipo- 
 tent ; but there is one thing he cannot do make a 
 Dutchman hate an Englishman." I asked him to drink 
 with me. 
 
 Among the stray visitors was a German who had for- 
 merly studied at Jena. We became good friends at 
 once. I had told him at table that I was Jenenser (true 
 in one sense). After dinner, when we had gone aside,
 
 Voyage to Stockholm. 
 
 253 
 
 I said, " I am- 
 
 " "You are," he said, interrupting 
 me, " an Englishman. " " Who told you so ?" " Every- 
 body. Were you not at Rostock a few days ago ?" 
 " Yes." " And did you not sit next a gentleman in 
 green, a Forester ? " " I did." " I thought you must 
 be the same from the description. My father said you 
 talked with admirable fluency quite well enough to 
 deceive a Frenchman but he had no doubt you had 
 escaped from Altona. I was here a few days ago, and 
 after you had left the room I said to the colonel, ' Who 
 is that gentleman ? ' He said, ' C'est un Anglais qui 
 veut bien jouer 1'Allemand, mais c'est un bon enfant 
 nous le laissons passer.' " 
 
 This information rather assured than alarmed me. 
 From my companions here I had no apprehension ; but 
 I had letters from Stansfeld telling me on no account to 
 return to Hamburg. 
 
 At length, on the 8th of September, after various 
 disappointments, the master of the little vessel in which 
 I had taken my passage came to me with the news that 
 he should weigh anchor in an hour. 
 
 I went to my landlady and paid my bill, my port- 
 manteau being already gone. I said to her, " Do you 
 know what countryman I am ? " " Lord love you ! " 
 she cried out, " every one knows you. When you walk 
 in the streets, the children say, 'Da geht der Englander.' " 
 " And the Italian officers do they know who I am ? " 
 " To be sure they do. I have heard them speak about 
 you when they did not suppose I understood them. It 
 is useful in our situation to know more than people are 
 aware of. They like you. I have heard them say they 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Departure 
 from Ros- 
 tock.
 
 254 
 
 Voyage to Stockholm. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Voyage. 
 
 Dalaro. 
 
 had no doubt you had run away from the Danes. And 
 I am very sure that if they were ordered to take you 
 up, they would give you an opportunity of escape." 
 This I believe. I sent a friendly message to them, with 
 an apology for not taking formal leave. 
 
 I made my voyage in a poor little vessel with a cargo 
 of salt fish on board. The voyage lasted five long days. 
 There was no passenger but myself ; and the crew con- 
 sisted of only four or five, including boys. One night 
 we had a storm, and I was shut up alone in the cabin. 
 I never before felt such entire wretchedness. 
 
 On the other hand, the pleasure was intense when the 
 master came to me in my cabin, and said I should have 
 something good for breakfast if I would get up. I had 
 just begun to have an appetite. On my rising he 
 poured part of a bowl of cream into my cup. I was 
 quite astonished, and hastening on deck, found myself 
 surrounded by picturesque and romantic masses of rock 
 on every side. We were on the coast of Sweden, not 
 far from Dalaro, the port of Stockholm. On these 
 barren and naked rocks I saw some huts, and a mo- 
 mentary feeling of envy towards the happy residents 
 on those quiet solid spots of earth caused me to laugh 
 at myself. 
 
 Dalaro is a miserable little village in a wild position 
 at the mouth of the winding river on which Stockholm 
 is built. Here passengers are accustomed to alight, as 
 the windings of the river render the voyage long. My 
 intention, however, was to remain in the vessel ; but I 
 was led to change my plan. My portmanteau was 
 brought to me quite wet. It had fallen into the water ;
 
 Dalaro. 
 
 255 
 
 and this accident afforded me another opportunity of 
 witnessing the kindness of strangers. The collector of 
 the customs could speak Swedish only, but through a 
 person present who knew English, he invited me to 
 spend the evening at his house. Calling his servants, 
 and asking me for my key, he opened my box, and all 
 my clothes and linen were at once seized and carried off 
 by the women. My books and papers were carefully 
 collected, and laid on a stove to dry. In a few minutes 
 I was told that my host was going to fetch his wife, 
 who was on a visit to a friend, and I was invited to 
 accompany him. We entered a stately boat, and were 
 rowed by six men, through what shall I say ? 
 streets and valleys of stone, a labyrinth of rocks and 
 water. We alighted at steps which led to a neat house, 
 surrounded by fir-trees, the only trees of the place. 
 There Madame had been, but she was gone. The 
 master of the house, a sea-captain, named Blum, spoke 
 a little bad English, and regaled me with dried beef, 
 biscuit, and brandy. It was a scene, and my com- 
 panions were fit for the characters of a romance. On 
 our return by another water-way we found the lady 
 and her sister had arrived. They were pretty women, 
 and spoke a little French. My supper was nice, and 
 consisted chiefly of novelties dried goose (cured as we 
 cure hams, and as red), salt fish, oaten cakes, and hot 
 custard. 
 
 After supper, seeing that I was fatigued, the lady of 
 the house took a candle, and said she would accompany 
 me to my room. Those who were present rose ; I was 
 shown into a neat room with a bed in an alcove, and 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Swedish. 
 Hospita- 
 lity.
 
 256 
 
 Stockholm. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 
 1807. 
 
 Drive from. 
 
 Da lard to 
 
 Stockholm. 
 
 Stockliolm. 
 
 they sat with me five minutes, as if they were paying 
 me a visit in my own apartment. When I got up next 
 morning, after a long and sound night's sleep, I found 
 in an antechamber all my clothes dry and clean, the 
 linen washed and ironed. 
 
 The next day, the I5th of September, I proceeded 
 to Stockholm. The drive in a little waggon or open 
 chaise, not broader at the wheels than a sedan chair, 
 was very amusing. I passed a succession of rocky and 
 wooded scenes, with many pieces of water I could not 
 tell whether sea or lake. In addition to the fir, I 
 noticed the birch/and a few oaks ; but the latter seemed 
 to languish. Few houses were to be seen all of wood 
 bedaubed with red ochre, which at a distance gives the 
 appearance of a brick building. The road was most 
 excellent, and the horses, though small, were capital 
 goers. We kept on in one trot without intermission, 
 and made the journey in less than five hours. 
 
 " The entrance into Stockholm, through the southern 
 suburb" (I wrote at the time), "disappoints the expecta- 
 tion raised by the brilliant view in the distance ; for the 
 greater number of the houses are low and poor, some 
 even roofed with earth, and the larger houses have an 
 uncomfortable air of nakedness and coldness from the 
 absence of architectural decorations the windows with- 
 out sills, the fronts without cornice, pediment, &c. But 
 its position is singularly striking. In England but then 
 it would be no longer Stockholm it would be one of the 
 most remarkable cities in the world. In other words, were 
 English capital and English enterprise applied to it, it 
 would be unrivalled. It stands on seven islands, but is
 
 Stockholm. 
 
 257 
 
 cut into three great divisions by large basins of water, 
 two salt and one fresh, which are not crowded with 
 vessels, but are beautiful streets of still water, ex- 
 hibiting shores at various distances and of diversified 
 character. The island on which stand the royal palace 
 and the state buildings, presents a remarkable mass of 
 picturesque and romantic objects." 
 
 More than thirty years ago I wrote this description 
 in a letter. I have since seen Edinburgh, Rome, 
 Venice, Naples, and Palermo ; and I now think, if I am 
 not deceived by imperfect recollection, that Stockholm 
 would, for beauty of situation, bear comparison with 
 any of these. 
 
 Having fixed myself in the best hotel in the city, I 
 delivered a letter which had been given to me at 
 Dalaro. It was addressed to a young man, named 
 Tode, a merchant's clerk, who I was assured knew 
 English, was intelligent and obliging, and would be 
 proud to be my cicerone. I found him all this, and 
 even more. He was my companion to churches, 
 palaces, and public buildings, and was most kind and 
 assiduous in his attentions. 
 
 I also went in search of a lady not unknown in the 
 literary world, and who as a poetess is still recollected 
 with respect under the name of Amelia von Imhoff. 
 She had been Maid of Honour to one of the Duchesses 
 of Saxe -Weimar, which office she held when I visited 
 Weimar in 1803-4. Her reputation she owed chiefly 
 to an Idyllic tale, "Die Schwester von Lesbos." She 
 had married a Swedish general, Von H el wig. I was 
 received by her with great cordiality. During my stay 
 
 VOL. I. S 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Beauty of 
 situation . 
 
 Tode. 
 
 Amelia von 
 Imhoff.
 
 258 
 
 Fran von Hehvig. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Dinner at 
 
 Herr von 
 
 Enger- 
 
 strbm's. 
 
 at Stockholm Herr von Helwig was from home. I was 
 almost the first Weimar acquaintance she had seen 
 since her marriage, and I had interesting facts to relate 
 concerning her native country. She was engaged to 
 dine that day with a Polish countess, wife of Herr von 
 Engerstrom, an historic character ; and she instantly 
 wrote a note intimating that she should bring with her 
 an English gentleman, a personal friend, just arrived. 
 There came an answer, in which the Countess expressed 
 her regret that her dinner was not such as she could 
 with propriety set before a foreign gentleman. She 
 would receive me some other day. Frau von Helwig 
 laughed at this, and with reason. I went, and certainly 
 never was present at a more copious banquet, or one at 
 which the company seemed more distinguished, judging 
 by title and appearance. I cannot specify foreign dishes 
 after thirty-six years, but I did make a memorandum 
 that I used eleven plates at the meal. One national 
 custom I recollect. The company being assembled in 
 the drawing-room before dinner, two large silver waiters 
 were brought in, one full of liqueur glasses of brandy, 
 the other of little pieces of bread and cheese. Whilst 
 these were being carried round to the gentlemen, the 
 ladies went by themselves into the dining-room ; and 
 when we followed we found them seated at table, 
 every alternate chair being left vacant. This was an 
 interesting day, and I regret that I am not better able 
 to remember the conversation, which was indicative of 
 the state of opinion among . the Swedish gentry and 
 nobility at a most critical period. 
 
 This was the i6th of September, and it should be
 
 Swedish Politics. 
 
 259 
 
 borne in mind that Copenhagen capitulated to the Eng- 
 lish on the /th, and that before very long (March, 1809) 
 the King of Sweden was driven from the throne. Partly 
 by my own observation at the dinner-party, and partly 
 by the information given me by Frau von Helwig, I 
 became fully aware of the unpopularity of the King. I 
 was struck by the coldness with which every remark I 
 made in his praise was received ; but I was in some 
 measure prepared for this by what I had heard from 
 the minister at Altona. On my reading to him Words- 
 worth's sonnet, his only comment was that the poet had 
 happily and truly described the King as " above all con- 
 sequences ; " and on my eulogizing the King to Herr 
 von Engerstrom for his heroic refusal to negotiate with 
 Buonaparte, the reply was, " Personne ne doute que le 
 roi soit un homme d'honneur." 
 
 Among the company were two military men of 
 great personal dignity, and having the most glorious 
 titles imaginable. One was a knight of the " Northern 
 Star ; " the other a knight of the " Great Bear," the 
 constellation. I had been introduced as a German, 
 and was talking with these Chevaliers when Frau von 
 Helwig joined us, and said something that betrayed 
 my being an Englishman. Immediately one of them 
 turned away. The cause was so obvious that my 
 friend was a little piqued, and remonstrated with him. 
 He made an awkward apology, and unsuccessfully 
 denied her imputation. This anti- English feeling was 
 so general in Sweden at this time that I was advised 
 to travel as a German through the country, and in 
 fact did so. 
 
 S 2 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 1807. 
 
 Unpopula- 
 rity of the 
 King of 
 Sweden. 
 
 Anti- 
 English 
 feeling.
 
 2(50 
 
 Fran von Hclivig. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 
 1807. 
 Arndt. 
 
 "Journey in 
 Sweden. 
 
 On the 1 8th I .dined with Frau von Helwig. She 
 had invited to meet me a man whom I was happy to 
 see, and whose name will survive among the memorable 
 names of the last age. I refer to the patriotic Arndt. 
 He had fled from the proscription of Buonaparte. His 
 life was threatened, for he was accused, whether with 
 truth I do not know, of being the author of the book 
 for the publication of which Salm had been shot. My 
 falling in with him now caused me to read his works, 
 and occasioned my translating entire his prophecy in 
 the year 1805 of the insurrection of the Spaniards, 
 which actually took place within less than a year of our 
 rencontre in Sweden. This I inserted in a review* of 
 Wordsworth's pamphlet on the convention of Cintra. 
 I was delighted by this lively little man, very spirited 
 and luminous in his conversation, and with none of those 
 mystifying abstractions of which his writings are full. 
 He spoke with great admiration of our " Percy's 
 Reliques." 
 
 On the 2 ist I set out on my journey to Gottenburg, 
 having bought a conveyance, with whip and other 
 accompaniments, which altogether cost me about 4. 
 The peasants are obliged to supply horses, and I paid 
 tyd. per horse for each stage of about seven miles. My 
 driver was sometimes a man or boy, but sometimes 
 also a woman or girl. I am not accustomed to make 
 economical statements, but it is worth mentioning that, 
 including the loss on the resale of my carriage, the 
 whole expense of my journey, over 350 miles, during 
 seven days, was less than 6 \ I had been fur- 
 
 * In Cumberland's " London Review."
 
 Gottcnburg. 
 
 261 
 
 nished with a card, not bigger than my hand, and 
 yet containing all the Swedish words I should want. 
 With this I managed to pass through the country, with- 
 out meeting with any incivility or inconvenience ; and, 
 after what I have said as to expense, I need not add, 
 without being imposed upon. How many Swedes will 
 say the same of a journey in England ? The only 
 occasion on which I thought I had reason to complain, 
 was when a peasant provided for my driver a child who 
 could not hold the reins. 
 
 With the name of Sweden I had associated no other 
 idea than that of barren rocks ; but during the first 
 four days of my journey, in which I left behind me 250 
 miles, there was an uninterrupted succession of beautiful 
 forest scenery. The roads were admirable, needing no 
 repair, for the substance was granite. There was no 
 turnpike from beginning to end. The scenery was 
 diversified by a number of lakes, every now and then 
 a small neat town, or a pretty village, and a very few 
 country houses. The fir, or pine, and beech were almost 
 the only trees. 
 
 I reached Gottenburg on the 2/th. The environs of 
 the town consist of masses of rock with very scanty 
 interstices of meagre vegetation, a scene of dreary 
 barrenness ; yet commerce has enriched this spot, and 
 the Gottenburg merchants, as I witnessed, partake of 
 the luxuries which wealth can transport anywhere. 
 
 On the 3Oth I commenced my voyage homewards ; 
 the age of steam was not come, but after a comfortable 
 passage of eight days, I sighted the coast of my native 
 country. We landed at Harwich on the afternoon of 
 the 7th of October. 
 
 CHAP. xi. 
 
 1807. 
 
 Civility 
 and honesty 
 of the 
 Swedish 
 people. 
 
 Gottenburg.
 
 262 
 
 Return to England. 
 
 CHAP, xi.' 
 1807. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Harwich, 'jth Oct., 1807. 
 
 Thank God I once more touch English land. To- 
 night I mean to sleep at Witham. To-morrow I shall 
 be in town. And I suppose before long shall come to 
 Bury. I shall in the meanwhile expect your letter of 
 congratulation. 
 
 Kind love to father, sister, little Tom, and everybody.
 
 Foreign Editor of the Times. 
 
 263 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 VERY soon after my return from Holstein, Mr. Walter 
 proposed that I should remain in the service of the 
 Times as a sort of foreign editor ; that is, I was to 
 translate from the foreign papers, and write on foreign 
 politics. This engagement began at the close of the 
 year ; and I entered on my duties in high spirits. I 
 could not easily find in my life a six months in which I 
 was more happy in every respect. I began to feel that 
 I had something to do, and could do it. In looking 
 back on my work, I see nothing to be proud of in it ; 
 but it connected me with public life, and that at least 
 was agreeable. And though I did not form a portion 
 of the literary society of London, I was brought into 
 its presence. 
 
 It was my practice to go to Printing House Square 
 at five, and to remain there as long as there was any- 
 thing to be done. 
 
 After a time I had the name of editor, and as such 
 opened all letters. It was my office to cut out odd 
 articles and paragraphs from other papers, decide on 
 the admission of correspondence, &c. ; but there was 
 always a higher power behind. While I was in my 
 room, Mr. Walter was in his, and there the great leader, 
 the article that was talked about, was written. Nor did 
 I ever write an article on party politics during my con- 
 tinuance in that post. I may, however, add, that in 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 1807. 
 
 H. C. R. as 
 
 writer for 
 the Times. 
 
 Connection 
 with the 
 Times.
 
 264 
 
 Foreign Editor of the Times. 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1808. 
 
 Dinner 
 at Dr. 
 Aikin's. 
 
 Southey. 
 
 February I inserted a letter with my initials, which was, 
 I believe, of real use to the Government. It is to be 
 found in the paper printed on Feb. I3th. It is a jus- 
 tification of the English Government for the seizure 
 of the Danish ships. The Ministry defended themselves 
 very ill in the House of Commons. In my letter, I 
 stated the fact that the Holstein post office refused to 
 take in my letters to England, and alleged as a reason 
 that Buonaparte had obliged the Government to stop 
 the communication with England. The same evening, 
 in the House of Lords, this fact was relied upon by 
 the Marquis of Wellesley as conclusive. Indeed, it 
 was more to the purpose than any fact alleged by 
 the Government speakers. 
 
 In the month of March I was invited to dine with 
 Southey at Dr. Aikin's. I was charmed with his person 
 and manners, and heartily concurred with him in his 
 opinions on the war. I copy from a letter to my 
 brother "Southey said that he and Coleridge were 
 directly opposed in politics. He himself thought the 
 last administration (Whig) so impotent that he could 
 conceive of none worse except the present ; while 
 Coleridge maintained the present ministry to be so 
 corrupt that he thought it impossible there could be 
 a worse except the late." On poetry we talked like- 
 wise : I bolted my critical philosophy, and was defended 
 by Southey throughout. I praised Wordsworth's " Son- 
 nets" and preface. In this, too, Southey joined ; he said 
 that the sonnets contain the profoundest political wis- 
 dom, and the preface he declared to be " the quint- 
 essence of the philosophy of poetry."
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 265 
 
 A few days after this (viz. on March I5th) I was 
 introduced to Wordsworth. I breakfasted with him 
 at Lamb's and accompanied him to Mr. Hardcastle's, 
 at Haleham, Deptford, with whom Mrs. Clarkson was 
 on a visit. Wordsworth received me very cordially, 
 owing, I have no doubt, to a favourable introduction by 
 Mrs. Clarkson, aided, of course, by my perfect agree- 
 ment with him in politics ; and my enthusiastic and 
 unconcealed admiration of his poetry gave me speedy 
 admission to his confidence. At this first meeting he 
 criticised unfavourably Mrs. Barbauld's poetry, which 
 I am the less unwilling to mention as I have already 
 recorded a later estimate of a different kind. He re- 
 marked that there is no genuine feeling in the line, 
 
 In what brown hamlet dost thou joy ?* 
 
 He said, " Why brown ? " He also objected to Mrs. 
 Barbauld's line, 
 
 "The lowliest children of the ground, moss-rose and violet," &c. 
 
 " Now," said he, " moss-rose is a shrub." The last 
 remark is just, but I dissent from the first ; for even- 
 ing harmonizes with content, and the brown hamlet is 
 the evening hamlet. Collins has with exquisite beauty 
 described the coming on of evening, 
 
 " And hamlets brown, and dim discover'd spires." 
 
 Wordsworth, in my first tte-d-tete with him, spoke 
 freely and praisingly of his own poems, which I never 
 felt to be unbecoming, but the contrary. He said he 
 thought of writing an essay on " Why bad poetry 
 pleases." He never wrote it a loss to our literature. 
 
 * Ode to Content. 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 
 1808. 
 
 Words- 
 worth. 
 
 Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld 's 
 poetry.
 
 266 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 1808. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 Lectures. 
 
 He spoke at length on the connection of poetry with 
 moral principles as well as with a knowledge of the 
 principles of human nature. He said he could not 
 respect the mother who could read without emotion his 
 poem 
 
 " Once in a lonely hamlet I sojourn'd." 
 
 He said he wrote his "Beggars" to exhibit the power 
 of physical beauty and health and vigour in childhood, 
 even in a state of moral depravity. He desired popu- 
 larity for his 
 
 " Two voices are there, one is of the sea," 
 
 as a test of elevation and moral purity. 
 
 I have a distinct recollection of reading in the Monthly 
 Review a notice of the first volume of Coleridge's poems 
 before I went abroad in 1800, and of the delight the 
 extracts gave me ; and my friend Mrs. Clarkson having 
 become intimate with him, he was an object of interest 
 with me on my return from Germany in 1805. And 
 when he delivered lectures in the year 1808, she wished 
 me to interest myself in them. I needed, however, no 
 persuasion. It was out of my power to be a regular 
 attendant, but I wrote to her two letters, which have been 
 printed, for want of fuller materials, in the " Notes and 
 Lectures on Shakespeare," edited by Mrs. Henry Cole- 
 ridge* At the time of my attending these lectures I 
 had no personal acquaintance with Coleridge. I have a 
 letter from him, written in May, 1808, sending me an 
 order for admission. He says, "Nothing but endless 
 interruptions, and the necessity of dining out far oftener 
 
 * Pickering, 1849.
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 267 
 
 than is either good for me, or pleasant to me, joined 
 with reluctance to move (partly from exhaustion by com- 
 pany I cannot keep out, for one cannot, dare not always 
 be ' not at home,' or ' very particularly engaged/ and the 
 last very often will not serve my turn) these, added to 
 my bread and cheese employments, + my lectures, which 
 are bread and cheese, i.e. a very losing bargain in a 
 pecuniary view, have prevented me day after day from 
 returning your kind call. I will as soon as I can. In 
 the meantime I have left your name with the old woman 
 and the attendants in the office, as one to whom I am 
 always 'at home' when I am at home. For Words- 
 worth has taught me to desire your acquaintance, and to 
 esteem you ; and need I add that any one so much 
 regarded by my friend Mrs. Clarkson can never be 
 indifferent, &c. &c., to S. T. Coleridge."* 
 
 * I find among my papers two pages of notes of Coleridge's lecture, 
 Feb. 5th., 1808 : 
 
 Feb. 5th, 1808. Lecture 2nd on Poetry (Shakespeare), &c. 
 Detached Minutes. 
 
 The Grecian Mythology exhibits the symbols of the powers of nature and 
 Hero-worship blended together. Jupiter both a King of Crete and the per- 
 sonified 'Sky. 
 
 Bacchus expressed the organic energies of the Universe which work by 
 passion a joy without consciousness; while Minerva, &c., imported the pre- 
 ordaining intellect. Bacchus expressed the physical origin of heroic character, 
 a felicity beyond prudence. 
 
 In the devotional hymns to Bacchus the germ of the first Tragedy. Men like 
 to imagine themselves to be the characters they treat of hence dramatic repre- 
 sentations. The exhibition of action separated from the devotional feeling. 
 The Dialogue became distinct from the Chorus. 
 
 The Greek tragedies were the Biblical instruction for the people. 
 
 Comedy arose from the natural sense of ridicule which expresses itself 
 naturally in mimickry. 
 
 Mr. Coleridge, in Italy, heard a quack in the street, who was accosted by his 
 servant-boy smartly ; a dialogue ensued which pleased the mob ; the next day 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1808. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 Lectures.
 
 268 
 
 Sir C. Bunbury. 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1808. 
 
 Sir Charles 
 Bunbury. 
 
 In a visit to Bury, my friend Hare Naylor being a 
 guest at the house of Sir Charles Bunbury, my brother 
 and I were invited to dinner by this beau-ideal of an 
 English sportsman, who was also well known as a Whig 
 politician and a man of honour. A few months after- 
 wards I met him in London, when I was walking with 
 Lamb. Sir Charles shook hands with me, and asked 
 where my regiment was. I evaded the question. Lamb 
 
 the quack, having perceived the good effect of an adjunct, hired a boy to talk 
 with him. In this way a play might have originated. 
 
 The modern Drama, like the ancient, originated in religion. The priests 
 exhibited the miracles and splendid scenes of religion. 
 
 Tragi-Comedy arose from the necessity of amusing and instructing at the 
 same time. 
 
 The entire ignorance of the ancient Drama occasioned the reproduction of 
 it on the restoration of literature. 
 
 Harlequin and the Clown are the legitimate descendants from the Vice and 
 Devil of the ancient Comedy. In the early ages, very ludicrous images were 
 mixed with the most serious ideas, not without a separate attention being paid 
 to the solemn truths; the people had no sense of impiety; they enjoyed the 
 comic scenes, and were yet edified by the instruction of the serious parts. Mr. 
 Coleridge met with an ancient MS. at Helmstadt, in which God was repre- 
 sented visiting Noah's family. The descendants of Cain did not pull off their 
 hats to the great visitor, and received boxes of the ear for their rudeness ; while 
 the progeny of Abel answered their catechism well. The Devil prompted the 
 bad children to repeat the Lord's Prayer backwards. 
 
 The Christian polytheism withdrew the mind from attending to the whisper- 
 ings of conscience ; yet Christianity in its worst state was not separated from 
 humanity (except where zeal for Dogmata interfered). Mahometanism is an 
 anomalous corruption of Christianity. 
 
 In the production of the English Drama, the popular and the learned writers 
 by their opposite tendencies contributed to rectify each other. The learned 
 would have reduced Tragedy to oratorical declamation, while the vulgar wanted 
 a direct appeal to their feelings. The many feel what is beautiful, but they also 
 deem a great deal to be beautiful which is not in fact so : they cannot distin- 
 guish the counterfeit from the genuine. The vulgar love the Bible and also 
 Hervey's "Meditations." 
 
 The essence of poetry universality. The character of Hamlet, &c., affects 
 all men ; addresses to personal feeling ; the sympathy arising from a reference to 
 individual sensibility spurious. [N.B. This applies to Kotzebue.]
 
 Times Correspondent. 
 
 269 
 
 was all astonishment " I had no idea that you knew 
 Sheridan."" Nor do I. That is Sir Charles Bunbury." 
 " That's impossible. I have known him to be Sheridan 
 all my life. That shall be Sheridan; You thief ! you 
 have stolen my Sheridan !" 
 
 That I did not quite neglect my German studies is 
 shown by my having translated for the MontJily Reposi- 
 tory Lessing's " Education of the Race." * 
 
 Though I had not the remotest intention now of 
 studying the Law, yet during this spring I luckily 
 entered myself a member of the Middle Temple ; and 
 I at the same time exercised myself in business 
 speaking by attending at the Surrey Institution. 
 
 During some weeks my mind was kept in a state of 
 agitation in my editorial capacity. The Spanish revo- 
 lution had broken out, and as soon as it was likely to 
 acquire so much consistency as to become a national 
 concern, the Times, of course, must have its corre- 
 spondent in Spain ; and it was said, who so fit to write 
 from the shores of the Bay of Biscay as he who had 
 successfully written from the banks of the Elbe ? I did 
 not feel at liberty to reject the proposal of Mr. Walter 
 that I should go, but I accepted the offer reluctantly. 
 I had not the qualifications to be desired, but then I 
 had experience. I had some advantage also in the 
 friendship of Amyot, who gave me letters which were 
 eventually of service ; and I was zealous in the cause of 
 Spanish independence. 
 
 I left London by the Falmouth mail on the night of 
 July I Qth, reached Falmouth on the 2ist, and on the 
 
 * Monthly Repository, Vol. I., 1806, pp. 412, 467. 
 
 CHAP. xir. 
 1808. 
 
 German 
 studies. 
 
 Entering 
 
 the Middle 
 
 Temple. 
 
 Journey to 
 Spain as 
 correspon- 
 dent of the 
 Times. 
 
 Voyage.
 
 2/0 
 
 Corunna. 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1808. 
 
 Corunna, 
 
 State of po- 
 litical feel- 
 ing in 
 Spain. 
 
 23rd embarked in a lugger belonging to Government 
 the Black Joke, Captain Alt. The voyage was very 
 rough, and, as I afterwards learnt, even dangerous. We 
 were for some time on a lee shore, and obliged to sail 
 with more than half the vessel under water ; a slight 
 change in the wind would have overset us ; but of all 
 this I was happily ignorant. 
 
 I landed at Corunna on the evening of Sunday, July 
 3 ist, and was at once busily employed. I found the 
 town in a state of great disorder ; but the excitement 
 was a joyous one, the news having just arrived of the 
 surrender of a French army in the south under Marshal 
 Dupont. This little town, lying in an out-of-the-way 
 corner of Spain, was at this, period of importance, 
 because, being the nearest to England, it became the 
 point of communication between the Spanish and 
 English Governments. The state of enthusiastic feeling 
 in Galicia, as well as in every other province of Spain 
 where the French were not, rendered the English 
 objects of universal interest. I took with me several 
 letters of introduction, both to merchants and to men in 
 office, but they were hardly necessary. As soon as I 
 could make myself intelligible in bad Spanish, and even 
 before, with those who understood a little French, I was 
 acceptable everywhere, and I at once felt that I should 
 be in no want of society. I put myself in immediate 
 connection with the editor of the miserable little daily 
 newspaper, and from him I obtained Madrid papers and 
 pamphlets. There were also a number of Englishmen 
 in the place some engaged in commerce, others 
 attracted by curiosity. And there was already in the
 
 Corimna. 
 
 271 
 
 harbour the Defiance, a 74-gun ship, Captain Hotham, 
 with whom and his officers I soon formed an interesting 
 acquaintance. Of the town itself I shall merely say 
 this ; it lies at the extremity of one horn of a bay, and 
 is very picturesque in its position. The rocks which 
 run along the tongue of land are exceedingly beauti- 
 ful ; on that tongue, between the city and the sea, are 
 numerous low windmills, which, as I first saw them in 
 the dusk of evening, made me think that Don Quixote 
 needed not to have been so very mad to mistake them 
 for giants. As I looked on the narrow streets of the 
 town, and the low and small houses with shoots throw- 
 ing the rain-water into the middle of the street, the 
 thought more than once occurred to me, that probably 
 in the times of good Queen Bess the streets of London 
 presented a somewhat similar appearance. The windows 
 are also doors, and every house has its balcony, on which, 
 when it is in the shade, the occupants spend much time. 
 The intrigues of which the Spanish plays and romances 
 are full, are facilitated by the architecture it being 
 equally easy to get access by the windows and escape 
 from the roof. The beggars are charmingly picturesque, 
 and have in their rags a virtuosity worthy a nation 
 whose most characteristic literature consists of beggar- 
 romances. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 In the evening about seven all is life and activity. 
 The streets are crowded, especially those towards the 
 bay, and it is at this time that if everybody had a 
 wishing-cap all the world would fly to Spain for two or 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 
 1808. 
 
 Description 
 of the town.
 
 2/2 
 
 Corunna. 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 1808. 
 
 H. C. R.'s 
 
 work at 
 Corunna. 
 
 three hours. The beauty of the evenings is indescribable. 
 There is a voluptuous feeling in the atmosphere, which 
 diffuses joy, so that a man need not think to be 
 happy. There is a physical felicity, which renders it 
 superfluous to seek any other. And when we add the 
 languor produced by the heat in the middle of the day 
 (which, however, I have not felt so much as I expected), 
 we can account for the indolence of the Spanish cha- 
 racter. 
 
 My business was to collect news and forward it by 
 every vessel that left the port,* and I spent the time 
 
 My letters to the Times are dated "Shores of the Bay of Biscay" and 
 " Corunna." The first appeared on August 9, 1808; the last on January 26, 
 1809. 
 
 An extract from Mr. Robinson's first communication, dated August 2, will 
 show the high spirits and the favourable prospects which animated the Spanish 
 people at the time of his arrival. "When we consider, as is officially stated, 
 that not a Frenchman exists in all Andalusia, save in bonds; that in 
 Portugal, Junot remains in a state of siege; that all the South of Spain is free; 
 and that in the North the late victories of the patriots in Arragon have broken 
 the communication between the French forces in Biscay and Catalonia, we need 
 not fear the speedy emancipation of the capital, and the compression of the 
 French force within the provinces adjoining Bayonne. When this arrives it 
 will be seen whether the long-suffering of the powers of the North, as well 
 as of the whole French people, may not find an end, and whether thus at 
 length a period may not be put to that tyranny which seemed so firmly 
 established." 
 
 The next communication (August 4) announced the surrender of Dupont's 
 army ; and the third (on August 8) the flight of Joseph Napoleon from 
 Madrid. 
 
 On September 26, Mr. Robinson writes: "The glorious and astonishing 
 exertions of the Spanish Patriots, of which it is more correct to say that the 
 Spaniards became soldiers in performing them, than that they performed them 
 because they were soldiers, ended in the capture or destruction of the greater 
 part of the numerous forces which had penetrated the interior of the country, 
 while the few that could effect their escape were driven to the Northern 
 provinces."
 
 Corunna. 
 
 273 
 
 between the reception and transmission of intelligence 
 in translating the public documents and in writing 
 comments. I was anxious to conceal the nature of my 
 occupation, but I found it necessary from time to time 
 to take some friends into my confidence. 
 
 Among the earliest and latest of my Corunna ac- 
 quaintance were the officers of the Defiance, I became 
 especially intimate with Lieutenants Stiles and Banks, 
 and Midshipman Drake. They seemed to have more 
 than a brother's love for each other. This perhaps is 
 the natural consequence where, as in this instance, 
 each felt that in the hour of danger he might owe 
 his life to his companions. I at length imagined I 
 could be happy on shipboard. These young men and 
 I rendered each other mutual service. My lodgings 
 were frequently their home, and they assisted me in the 
 transmission of letters. I introduced them to partners 
 at balls, and gained credit with the ladies for so doing. 
 
 There were several houses at which I used to visit ; 
 occasionally I was invited to a formal Tertulia. At 
 these Tertulias the ladies sit with their backs against the 
 wall on an elevated floor, such as we see in old halls. 
 The gentlemen sit before them, each cavalier on a 
 very small straw-bottomed chair before his dama, and 
 often with his guitar, on which he klimpers, and by aid 
 of which, if report say truly, he can make love without 
 being detected. The company being seated, a large 
 silver plate is given to each guest, and first a cup of 
 rich and most delicious chocolate is taken then, to 
 correct it, a pint tumbler of cold water. Preserved 
 fruits and other sweetmeats follow in abundance, and 
 
 VOL. I. T 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1808. 
 
 Acquaint- 
 ances at 
 Corunna. 
 
 Tertulias.
 
 274 
 
 A rrivals 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 
 1808. 
 
 Hotel din- 
 ners. 
 
 Captain 
 Kennedy. 
 
 Arrival of 
 
 English 
 
 troops. 
 
 these in their turn are corrected by a second pint of 
 water. Nothing can exceed the dulness of these parties, 
 but I found them useful as lessons in Spanish. It was 
 not till October that I had admission to the tables of 
 the Spanish gentry. I dined usually at the Fontana 
 d'Oro, the chief hotel, where the dinners were the worst 
 I was ever condemned to sit down to the meat bad, 
 and rendered intolerable by garlic. The only excellent 
 meat was the Spanish ham, cured with sugar ; and 
 the only dish for an epicure was the olla podrida, a 
 medley to be compared with, though differing from, a 
 Yorkshire pie. 
 
 Among my earliest English acquaintance was a 
 Captain Kennedy, who filled the office of Minister to 
 the Galician Junta. We became well acquainted, and 
 were of use to each other. He sang charmingly, and 
 was a very handsome man ; his mother was the famous 
 Mrs. Kennedy, the actress. 
 
 On the 1 3th of October the first of a series of events 
 took place, which mark one of the most memorable 
 periods of my life. On that day there arrived a 
 detachment of English troops under the command of 
 Sir David Baird. Luckily for myself, I had a few days 
 before become acquainted with General Brodrick, and 
 he had introduced me to Admiral de Courcy, who was 
 stationed in the Tonnant, a ship of the line. Captain 
 Hancock and I had received an invitation to dine with 
 the Admiral this day. In the morning, when I was over 
 my books, I was startled by the report of cannon, and, 
 running to the ramparts, beheld more than 150 vessels, 
 transports, sailing in a double row before a gentle
 
 from England. 
 
 275 
 
 breeze. It was a striking spectacle, and I felt proud of 
 it. But I remarked that the sight was rather mortifying 
 than gratifying to the pride of some of the Spanish 
 gentry, who were looking on, and who might feel 
 humiliated that their country needed such aid.* We 
 had dined, when, on a sudden, the Admiral rose and 
 cried out, " Gentlemen ! open your quarters ; " on our 
 doing which an officer placed himself between each two 
 of us. Among the arrivals were Sir David Baird, 
 General Crawford, &c. We had half an hour's formal 
 chat, and drank success to the expedition. After re- 
 maining a few days in Corunna the troops proceeded 
 to the interior, to join the army under Sir John Moore. 
 The expedition, I have understood, was ill-planned ; 
 the result belongs to the history of the war. 
 
 On the 2Oth there was an arrival which, more than that 
 of the English, ought to have gratified the Spaniards. 
 I witnessed a procession from the coast to the Town- 
 hall, of which the two leading figures were the Spanish 
 General Romana and the English Minister, Mr. Frere. 
 Few incidents in the great war against Napoleon can be 
 referred to as rivalling in romantic interest the escape of 
 the Spanish soldiers under General Romana from the 
 North of Germany ; but, on beholding the hero, my 
 enthusiasm subsided. Romana looked, in my eyes, like 
 a Spanish barber. I was therefore less surprised and 
 
 * Mr. Robinson says in his letter of the sand of October : " In one respect 
 I was almost pleased to remark the indifference of our reception they do not 
 want us, thought I, tant mieux ! and God grant they may not find themselves 
 mistaken ! There is great confidence on the part of the people ; they have no 
 idea, apparently, that it is possible for them to be beaten ; their rage is un- 
 bounded when the name of Buonaparte is mentioned ; but their hatred of the 
 French is mixed with contempt." 
 
 T 2 
 
 CHAP. xu. 
 
 1808. 
 
 Sir David 
 Baird. 
 
 General 
 Crawford. 
 
 General 
 Romana.
 
 2/6 
 
 Lord and Lady Holland 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1808. 
 
 Mr. Frere. 
 
 Madame 
 Mosquera. 
 
 Prepara- 
 tion/or a 
 grand re- 
 ception. 
 
 vexed than others were when, in the course of events, 
 ic showed himself to be an ordinary character, having 
 no just sense of what the times and the situation 
 required from the Spanish nation. On the other hand, 
 [ received a favourable impression from the person and 
 address of Mr. Frere. And when, in a few months, the 
 public voice in England was raised against him as the 
 injudicious counsellor who imperilled the English army 
 by advising their advance on Madrid, my own feeling 
 was that he was unjustly treated. 
 
 On November 3rd there was an arrival from England, 
 which was to me a source of some amusement. Early 
 in the morning a servant from my friend Madame 
 Mosquera* came in great haste to request that I would 
 go to her immediately. I found her full of bustle and 
 anxiety. " There is just arrived," said she, " an English 
 grandeza a lord and lady of high rank. They will 
 dine on board their ship, and come here in the evening. 
 All the arrangements are made : I am to attend them 
 in a carriage on shore, and the Duke of Veraguas is 
 to accompany me ; and there must be a second gentle- 
 man, and we hope you will go with us. They are to 
 take a refresco here, and to-morrow they are to dine 
 with the Countess Bianci. You are to be invited to be 
 at the dinner ; and what I want of you now is that you 
 instruct me how I. am to receive my lord and lady." 
 My first inquiry was who these great persons were. 
 No other than my Lord and Lady Holland. My de- 
 termination was at once taken. I told Madame that it 
 was impossible for me to attend her on shore ; I was 
 
 * Mr. Robinson sometimes spells this name Moschera.
 
 at Madame Mosquera's. 
 
 277 
 
 not of noble birth, nor a fit companion for the de- 
 scendant and representative of Columbus. Colonel 
 Kennedy, by birth no better than myself, was, in virtue 
 of his diplomatic position, the first Englishman at 
 Corunna, and must therefore be invited. (Poor Kennedy 
 received his invitation, and when he heard that he owed 
 to me the honour, he declared he would never forgive 
 me, for he and the Duke and the Baroness were made 
 to sit in the carriage between three and four hours 
 waiting for the mistress of Holland House.) As to the 
 reception, I said, you have only to do for them what 
 you would do for the Spanish grandees of the first 
 rank and besides the usual chocolate and sweetmeats, 
 send up tea and bread-and-butter. That there might 
 be no mistake I requested a loaf to be brought, and 
 I actually cut a couple of slices as thin as wafers, 
 directing that a plate should be filled with such. The 
 tea equipage I was assured was excellent procured 
 in London. I said there would be no impropriety in 
 my meeting my lord and lady at the house, and there- 
 fore promised to attend. After a wearisome waiting 
 on our part, the noble visitors and their escort arrived. 
 Lady Holland, with her stately figure and grand de- 
 meanour ; my lord, with his countenance of bonhom- 
 mie and intelligence ; a lad, said to be the second son 
 of the Duke of Bedford, a Lord Something Russell 
 perhaps the present Prime Minister* of England ; and 
 a gentleman whom I have heard called satirically Lady 
 Holland's atheist, a Mr. Allen, but better known as 
 an elegant scholar and Edinburgh reviewer, who in 
 
 * This was written in 1848. 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1808. 
 
 Lord and 
 
 Lady 
 Holland.
 
 278 
 
 Spanish Tea-party. 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 1808. 
 
 Party at 
 
 Madame 
 
 Mvsquera s. 
 
 that character fell into a scrape by abusing some Greek 
 that was by Pindar. The party was a small one. In a 
 few minutes after the arrival of the guests the refresco 
 was brought in. All the servants were in gala dresses, 
 and a table being set out in the large reception-room, 
 a portly man brought in a huge silver salver, resembling 
 in size the charger on which in Italian pictures the head 
 of John the Baptist is usually brought by Herod's step- 
 daughter. This huge silver dish was piled up with 
 great pieces of bread-and-butter an inch thick, suffi- 
 cient to feed Westminster School. This was set down 
 with great solemnity. Next came a large tea-tray of 
 green and red tin, such as might have been picked up 
 at Wapping. This was covered with all sorts of inde- 
 scribable earthenware. The teapot, which was of tin, 
 had probably not been in use for years, and therefore 
 the moment Madame Mosquera took hold of it to pour 
 out the tea, the lid fell in and filled the room with 
 steam. She managed to pour out a cup, which she ran 
 with to my lady, who good-naturedly accepted it. This 
 done, she ran with another cup to Lord Holland. She 
 was full of zeal, and her little round figure perspired 
 with joy and gladness. Mosquera saw the ridicule of 
 the exhibition and tried to keep her back, twitching her 
 gown and whispering audibly, " Molly, you are mad ! " 
 She, however, ran to me full of glee, " Have not I done 
 well?" The gentlemen were glad to inquire of us, 
 the residents, the news of the day. Lord Holland was 
 known to be among the warmest friends of the Spanish 
 cause ; in that respect differing from the policy of his 
 Whig friends, who by nothing so much estranged me
 
 Madame Lavaggi. 
 
 279 
 
 from their party as by their endeavour to force the 
 English Government to abandon the Spanish patriots. 
 
 Before the events occurred which precipitated the 
 departure of us all, I had made the acquaintance of 
 one highly interesting and remarkable woman. This 
 was Madame Lavaggi. Her husband was the Trea- 
 surer of the kingdom, that is of Galicia. He owed 
 his place, and indeed everything, to her he was 
 younger than she, and a well-looking man. She was 
 one of the plainest women I ever saw, I should say 
 the very plainest. The fortune was hers, and she took 
 the lead in all things. She had character and energy, 
 and I felt more interest in her conversation than in that 
 of any other person. But she was altogether unedu- 
 cated. She spoke French very ill, and could hardly 
 write for instance, in a short note she spelt qtiand, cant 
 but her zeal against the French rendered her eloquent, 
 almost poetical. She was very religious, and loyal with- 
 out being insensible to the abuses of the Government. 
 Her father had been Prime Minister under Charles VI., 
 and she was fond of relating that at one time six port- 
 folios or seals of office were held by him. At her 
 house I was a frequent and favoured guest, and I was 
 able to return these civilities by substantial services. 
 
 The time was approaching when these services would 
 be wanted. Before this occurred, however, I determined 
 on taking a holiday, and having made the acquaintance 
 of Murphy, the architect who wrote a book on "The 
 Gothic Architecture of Portugal," proposed that we 
 should go together to Madrid ; he agreed to this, and 
 went to buy a carriage for our journey, but returned 
 
 CHAP. xu. 
 1808. 
 
 Madame 
 Lavaggi. 
 
 Plan for 
 going to 
 Madrid.
 
 280 
 
 Retreat of the English. 
 
 CHAP, xn, 
 1808. 
 
 Anxiety 
 
 about per- 
 sonal safety. 
 
 with the information, which was a great secret, that it 
 was not advisable to advance, for the English army was 
 on its retreat ! This was on November 22nd.* 
 
 As the intelligence became daily worse in December, 
 others were led to consider how their personal safety 
 might be secured, and left the place. This was the 
 means of increasing my intimacy with the Lavaggis 
 and the English officers in authority ; I became known 
 also to some of the Spaniards in office, including mem- 
 bers of the Junta that is, the Galician Government, 
 which collectively had the quality of Majesty in formal 
 addresses. 
 
 * In his letter of November rath, Mr. Robinson says : "My last letter, which 
 was of the 9th, imparted to you the anxious feelings with which I was impressed 
 when I wrote it. You learned from it that the campaign was opened by an 
 attack on several parts of the Spanish line by the French ; and you were 
 informed that those attacks had been successful." 
 
 "November 2$tk. The intelligence brought by the Lady Pellew packet 
 from Corunna is of an unfavourable complexion, yet such as we might perhaps 
 have expected from the first appearance of Buonaparte upon the theatre of 
 war. General Blake's army, after sustaining repeated attacks, is said at last to 
 have been completely defeated, while the advanced body of. the French have 
 even reached Valladolid. 
 
 "The news from the English army on its way from Portugal is no less dis- 
 tressing. It is said that 3,000 of the men under Sir John Moore are sick." 
 
 "Corunna, December %th. A serious responsibility is incurred by that Govern- 
 ment, whichever it was, to which the lamentable delay is to be imputed, which 
 followed the arrival of those troops in the harbour of Corunna. The utter 
 want of all preparations for promoting the march of that army was seen with 
 deep affliction by both British and Spaniards. No man pretends to fix the 
 culpability upon any one ; they can only judge of those who are privy to the 
 negotiations which preceded the expedition. The sad effect, however, is very 
 obvious ; for but for this delay the united British army would not have been 
 compelled to retreat before the foe, leaving him a vast reach of territory at 
 his command." 
 
 "December i6tA. A tale is current which, if not true, has been invented by 
 an Arragonese, that Buonaparte has sworn that on the ist of January his brother 
 shall be at Madrid, Marshal Bessieres at Lisbon, and himself at Saragossa."
 
 Spanish Ladies. 
 
 281 
 
 I was repeatedly in the company of Arguelles, the 
 famous statesman and orator, whose person and manners 
 inspired me with greater respect that those of any other 
 Spaniard. 
 
 In the midst of these troubles I was learning the 
 language rapidly, and was able to read Spanish books ; 
 and before the close of the year I found myself able 
 to take interest in general society. But, excepting 
 Madame Lavaggi, there was not a woman who ap- 
 peared to have any intelligence or strength of mind, 
 though all were warm patriots. There were several 
 agreeable women, but only one to be conversed with 
 except on balls and operas. When I received from 
 England the famous pamphlet of Cevallos, which first 
 exposed to Europe the infamous treatment of the 
 Spanish, princes by Buonaparte, I carried it to a 
 Spanish lady who spoke French ; she looked at the 
 title gravely, and returned it saying, " I never look into 
 any book that is not given me by my confessor." The 
 ordinary conversation of the ladies was frivolous and 
 undignified, but innocent, and their indelicacies were 
 quite unconscious. Every Spanish woman is christened 
 Mary, and to this there is some addition by which they 
 are generally known. I was puzzled at hearing a very 
 lively laughing girl called " Dolores," but was told she 
 was christened Maria de los Dolores the Mother of 
 Sorrows. One other was always called "Conche ;" that 
 I found to be an abridgment of Conception Maria de 
 la Conception being her proper name. 
 
 I had till the very last leisure to amuse myself 
 occasionally both with books and society, but as the 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 
 1808. 
 Arguelles. 
 
 Spanish 
 language. 
 
 Spanish 
 ladies. 
 
 Staying on 
 at Corunna,
 
 282 
 
 Morale of 
 
 CHAP. xir. 
 1808. 
 
 Misman- 
 agement. 
 
 year drew to a close the general anxiety and trouble 
 augmented ; and before it was at an end I confidently 
 anticipated the result, though I felt bound in honour to 
 remain at my post till the last ; and from the number 
 of my acquaintance among the English officers and 
 diplomatists, I felt no apprehension of being aban- 
 doned.* 
 
 1809. 
 
 My notes are too few to enable me to give a precise 
 date to some of the more interesting and notable occur- 
 rences of this year. Several of these have a bearing 
 on the morale of public men, but I would not insert 
 them here if I were not perfectly sure of the substantial 
 correctness of what I relate. 
 
 This I must state as the general impression and 
 result that in the economical department of our 
 campaign in Spain there was great waste and mis- 
 management, amounting to dishonesty. One day 
 
 came to me full of glee, and said, " I have 
 
 done a good day's work : I have put .50 in my pocket. 
 
 C [who was one of the Commissariat] wanted to 
 
 buy some [I am not sure of the commodity]. He 
 is bound not to make the purchase himself, so he 
 told me where I could get it and what I was to give, 
 and I have 50 for my commission." On my express- 
 ing surprise, he said, "Oh, it is always done in all 
 purchases." 
 
 Another occurrence, not dishonourable in this way, 
 
 * On December 23rd, Mr. Robinson says : "A letter from Salamanca an- 
 nounced that Joseph, the Usurper, is at Madrid, and issues his mandates as if 
 Spain were already conquered, though no one obeys him."
 
 A rmy Commissioners. 
 
 283 
 
 but still greatly to be regretted, must be imputed, I fear, 
 to a very honourable man. Only a very few days before 
 the actual embarkation of the troops, there arrived 
 from England a cargo of clothing a gift from English 
 philanthropists (probably a large proportion of them 
 Quakers) to the Spanish soldiers. The Supercargo 
 spoke to me on his arrival, and I told him he must on 
 no account unload that every hour brought fugitives 
 that the transports were collected for the troops, which 
 were in full retreat and that if these articles were 
 landed they would become, of course, the prey of the 
 French. He said he would consult General Brodrick. 
 I saw the Supercargo next day, and he told me that the 
 General had said that the safest thing for him to do was 
 to carry out his instructions literally land the clothes, 
 get a receipt, and then whatever happened he was not 
 to blame. And he acted accordingly.* 
 
 * In a letter to the Times, January 6th, Mr. Robinson writes : "Within a 
 single day everything has changed its appearance in this place ; and both Eng- 
 lish and Spanish seem to be seriously alarmed, not for the fate of the country 
 alone, or even the province, but of the town and themselves. 
 
 " On whichever side we look, we see cause for distress; the enemy advancing 
 in the front, Portugal abandoned to the right, the Asturias defenceless to the 
 left ; and in the distance, uncertainty and obscurity." 
 
 " January BtA. The peril is drawing nigh, and the apprehensions and fears 
 of the unmilitary are therefore increased; but the danger is now unequivocally 
 perceived, and people begin to meet it manfully. As a public expression of 
 the sense of our situation, the theatre is this evening shut for the first time." 
 
 " There is a strong sentiment in favour of the English troops, notwithstanding 
 their retreat. This has relieved our minds from a great embarrassment. A 
 Spanish populace, especially the female half of it, is no despicable power; and 
 it was apprehended by some, that in case the English were unsuccessful, the 
 people might rise in favour of the French. Hitherto, the contrary is apparent. 
 I have once or twice heard exclamations from the women which seem to tend 
 to a disturbance, exclaiming against the traitors, who had sent for the English 
 to be massacred, and then abandoned them." 
 
 " During the day there has been a number of arrivals. Our streets swarm, 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 1809. 
 
 Official 
 timidity.
 
 284 
 
 A rrangcmcnts for 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1809. 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 assists La- 
 vaggi. 
 
 Some weeks before the actual embarkation Lavaggi 
 applied to me for assistance in placing in security the 
 papers and accounts belonging to Galicia, and held by 
 him as Treasurer. He could not let it be known that 
 he was about to run away, and therefore requested me 
 to purchase the charter-party of one of the merchant 
 vessels lying in the harbour. This I effected. There 
 was a vessel laden with a sort of beans called cara- 
 vanzes, the property of a well-known character, one 
 Captain Ashe, who held the charter-party. He became 
 afterwards notorious as author of "The Book" about 
 the Queen of George IV., which was the subject of 
 so many rumours, and ultimately suppressed. In the 
 transaction with Captain Ashe I took care to have 
 all the legal documents. When the cargo was dis- 
 charged at Plymouth, caravanzes were so high in 
 price that all the expense of the voyage to England, 
 which was not contemplated, was defrayed. The 
 ship was chartered to Cadiz, to which place we were 
 bound. I was the legal owner, and as such passed 
 to and fro. 
 
 On January iith a number of troops arrived, and it 
 was announced that the French were near. During this 
 time the Spaniards did not conceal their indignation at 
 
 as a few weeks since, with English officers ; but the gaiety and splendour which 
 graced their first entrance into Spain have given way to a mien and air certainly 
 more congenial with the horrid business of war. I do not mean that they 
 manifest any unworthy or dishonourable sentiment : on the contrary, as far as 
 I can judge from the flying testimony of those I converse with, the army has 
 throughout endured with patience its privations and long suffering ; and, since 
 its arduous and difficult retreat, displayed an honourable constancy and valour. 
 They speak with little satisfaction of all that they have seen in Spain, and 
 I fear are hardly just towards the people whom they came to protect and 
 rescue."
 
 leaving Corunna. 
 
 285 
 
 the retreat. It was affirmed, with what truth I had not 
 the means of judging, that there were many passes 
 capable of defence, and that the enemy might have 
 been easily stopped. Why this easy task was not 
 undertaken by General Romana was never explained to 
 me. But I certainly heard from the retreating officers 
 themselves that the retreat was more properly a flight, 
 and that it was conducted very blunderingly and with 
 precipitation. I was assured that cannon were brought 
 away, while barrels of dollars were thrown down preci- 
 pices ; and I witnessed the ragged and deplorable con- 
 dition of officers. One day, going over to my ship, there 
 was a common sailor, as he seemed, most indecently 
 ragged, who was going to a transport vessel near mine. 
 I began joking with "my lad," when he turned round, and 
 I at once perceived in the elegance of his figure and the 
 dignity of his countenance that I was addressing one of 
 the young aristocracy. He received my apologies very 
 good-humouredly ; told me that he had been subject 
 to every privation, and that he had on his flight been 
 thankful for a crust of bread and a pair of old shoes. 
 On board a transport he had a wardrobe awaiting 
 him.* 
 
 As the time of departure approached, the interest of 
 
 * In the letter to the Times dated January nth, Mr. Robinson says : " In 
 the course of this day the whole English army has either entered within, or 
 planted itself before, the walls of this town. The French army will not fail to 
 be quick in the pursuit ; and as the transports which were so anxiously expected 
 from Vigo are still out of sight, and, according to the state of the wind, not 
 likely soon to make their appearance, this spot will most probably become the 
 scene of a furious and bloody contest. 
 
 "The late arrivals have, of course, made us far better acquainted than we 
 possibly could be before with the circumstances of this laborious and dis- 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1809. 
 
 The French 
 approach- 
 ing 
 Corunna.
 
 286 
 
 Spanish Friends 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 
 Don Padre 
 Gil. 
 
 Lavaggi in the ship became known, and on the nth, 
 one of the Junta, Don Padre Gil, came to me in 
 great distress, imploring me to take him on board. He 
 would die, he said, rather than submit to the French. 
 I let him come to . me a second time, having obtained 
 permission to take him on board. By way of trial, I 
 asked him if he knew what it was to become an exile. 
 " Oh, yes ; I have a brother in America and friends at 
 Cadiz." " But have you supplied yourself with the 
 means of living abroad and supporting yourself on 
 the voyage ? " " Oh, yes ; I have plenty of chocolate." 
 The man at last actually went down upon his knees to 
 me. This was irresistible I took him, but did not 
 scruple to try his feelings ; for I made him in the 
 evening put on a sailor's jacket, and take a portmanteau 
 on his head. I could command the sentinels to open 
 the gates of the town, which he could not. He went 
 on board, but next day he was fetched away by another 
 member of the Junta, a priest named Garcia, a subtle 
 if not an able man. A few weeks afterwards I read in 
 the French papers a flaming address from the inhabi- 
 tants of Corunna, gratefully thanking the French 
 General for having emancipated them from their 
 oppressors and tyrants the English, and the very 
 
 honourable campaign, which has had all the suffering, without any of the 
 honours of war. Without a single general engagement having to fight an 
 enemy who always shunned the contest it is supposed that our army has lost 
 upwards of 3,000 men, a larger number of whom perished by the usual causes, 
 as well as labours of a retreating soldiery." 
 
 "January izth. An alarming symptom is the extreme scarcity of every 
 kind of provisions. The shops ate shut the markets are abandoned. Per- 
 haps the imperious wants of future importunate visitors are especially recollected. 
 If the transports arrive, there will be abundance of every necessity; if not, 
 famine stares us in the face."
 
 in Trouble. 
 
 287 
 
 first name among the list of subscribers was that of 
 Padre Gil. 
 
 It was on the I3th that I took on board Madame 
 Lavaggi and a handsome and amiable young officer, 
 
 a native of America, named T , a relation of the 
 
 Duke of Veraguas. There were on board Lavaggi, 
 Pyecroft, a gentleman named Pipiela, with his wife, 
 servants of course, and, as I afterwards learned, others 
 of whom I had no knowledge. Madame Lavaggi I heard 
 was very ill during the night, and next day her husband 
 gave orders that we should return, in order that she 
 might be taken on shore. It was not until afterwards 
 that I discovered the real cause of our going back was 
 that Madame had found out that their young friend 
 T - had smuggled on board some one who had 
 no right to be there ; she therefore determined on 
 quitting the vessel. I accompanied her to her house, 
 and as we approached the door a rich perfume of 
 cedar-wood was apparent it proceeded from the burn- 
 ing of a costly cabinet which she much prized. The 
 destruction of this and other valuable articles of furni- 
 ture had not been prevented by the officers who were 
 left in the house, and the poor lady burst into tears as 
 she told me that these gentlemen had been most hospi- 
 tably treated at her table.* 
 
 * Letter to the Times, January i5th. "The last two days have materially 
 changed the appearance of things. Yesterday evening, the fleet of transports, 
 which had been dispersed in their passage from Vigo, began to enter the har- 
 bour, and the hearts of thousands were relieved by the prospect of deliverance. 
 I beheld this evening the beautiful bay covered with our vessels, both armed 
 and mercantile, and I should have thought the noble three-deckers, which 
 stood on the outside of the harbour, a proud spectacle, if I could have forgotten 
 the inglorious service they were called to perform." 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1809. 
 
 Madame 
 Lavaggi.
 
 288 
 
 The Battle of Corunna. 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 
 1809. 
 
 The 
 
 English 
 
 leaving 
 
 Corunna. 
 
 I slept in my old lodging, and the morning of the 
 1 6th I spent in making calls and in writing the 
 last letter to the Times. The whole town was in 
 commotion, the English hurrying away, at least 
 those of them who were not engaged in protect- 
 ing the embarkation of the others, the Spaniards 
 looking on in a sort of gloomy anger, neither aiding 
 nor opposing them. On going to dine at the hotel 
 I found the table-d'h6te filled with English officers. 
 After a time, on looking round I saw that the room 
 was nearly empty not a red-coat to be seen. On 
 inquiry of the waiters, one said, " Have you not heard ? 
 The French are come : they are fighting."* Having 
 finished my dinner, I walked out of the town. Towns- 
 people, stragglers, were walking and loitering on the 
 high road and in the fields. We could hear firing 
 at a distance. Several carts came in with wounded 
 soldiers. I noticed several French prisoners, whose 
 countenances expressed rather rage and menaces than 
 fear. They knew very well what would take place. 
 I walked with some acquaintances a mile or more 
 out of the town, and remained there till dark long 
 enough to know that the enemy was driven back ; for 
 the firing evidently came from a greater distance. 
 Having taken leave of Madame Lavaggi, whom I 
 sincerely esteemed, and of my few acquaintances in 
 
 * This was the celebrated battle of Corunna, at which Sir John Moore was 
 killed. In Mr. Robinson's memoranda, written at the time, he says that the can- 
 nonading seemed to be on the hills about three miles from the town. At five 
 o'clock he embarked, and though the vessel remained not far off till the i8th, 
 he does not appear to have heard of the death of the English commander, or 
 any particulars of the battle.
 
 Arrival of the French. 
 
 289 
 
 the town, I went on board, and our vessel was judi- 
 ciously stationed by the Captain out of the harbour, 
 but immediately on the outside. There were numerous 
 ships like ours sailing about the bay. The Captain 
 said to me over night, " You may be sure the French 
 will be here in the morning ; I will take care to place 
 the vessel so that we may have no difficulty in making 
 our escape." The morning was fine and the wind 
 favourable, or our position might have been perilous. 
 Early in the forenoon my attention was drawn to the 
 sound of musketry, and- by a glance it could be ascer- 
 tained that the soldiers were shooting such of their 
 fine horses as could not be taken on board. This 
 was done, of course, to prevent their strengthening the 
 French cavalry. One very loud explosion brought 
 us all on deck. There was on the shore a large 
 powder magazine, which had been often the boundary 
 of my walk. When the cloud of smoke which had 
 been raised was blown away, there was empty space 
 where there had been a solid building a few moments 
 before ; but this was a less exciting noise than when, 
 about one o'clock, we heard a cannonading from the 
 shore at the inland extremity of the bay. It was 
 the French army. They were firing on ships which 
 were quietly waiting for orders. I remarked the sudden 
 movement in the bay the ships before lying at anchor 
 were instantly in motion. I myself noticed three vessels 
 which had lost their bowsprits. The Captain told me 
 that twelve had cut their cables. We were not anxious 
 to, quit the spot, and therefore sailed about in the 
 vicinity all night. Two vessels were on fire, and next 
 VOL. I. U 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1809. 
 
 In the bay 
 ofCoruttna.
 
 290 
 
 Return to London. 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1809. 
 
 Return to 
 London, 
 
 Spanish 
 
 political 
 
 agents. 
 
 At Mrs. 
 Butters. 
 
 Horace 
 Twiss. 
 
 day I was shocked at beholding the remains of a wreck, 
 and the glee with which our sailors tried to fish them 
 up as we passed. Lavaggi was very desirous to go to 
 Cadiz, but the Captain solemnly declared that the ship 
 was not seaworthy for that course, the wind being direct 
 for England ; he would not risk our lives by attempting 
 it. Of course, as we could not disprove his assertion, 
 we submitted, and proceeded straight to Falmouth, which 
 we reached on the 23rd. 
 
 On my return to London I resumed my occupation 
 at the Times office. But a change had taken place 
 there ; Collier had transferred his services to the 
 Chronicle. In the meanwhile I had less given me to 
 do, but I did it with cheerfulness, and soon renewed my 
 old habits and old acquaintance. 
 
 At this time, too, I was frequent in my calls on the 
 Spanish political agents. The names of Durango, 
 Lobo, and Abeilla appear in my pocket-book. I ren- 
 dered a service to Southey by making him acquainted 
 with the last named, who supplied him with important 
 documents for his history of the Spanish war. 
 
 On the 1 3th of July I was invited to a small party 
 at Mrs. Buller's. There were not above half a dozen 
 gentlemen. Mrs. Buller told me, before the arrival of 
 Horace Twiss, that some of her friends had heard of 
 his imitations of the great orators, and that he was 
 to exhibit. The company being assembled, he was 
 requested to make a speech in the style of Mr. Pitt 
 or Mr. Fox, as he had done at Lady Cork's. Twiss 
 was modest, not to say bashful he could not do such 
 a thing unless excited ; but if Mr, Mallett or Mr.
 
 Mr. Walter. 
 
 291 
 
 Robinson would make a speech on any subject, he 
 would immediately reply. Unfortunately, both Mr 
 Mallett and Mr. Robinson were modest too, and their 
 modesty was inflexible. At length, a table being set 
 in the doorway between the two drawing-rooms, the 
 orator was so placed that a profile or oblique view 
 was had of his face in both rooms, and he began : " Mr 
 Speaker !" and we had two speeches in succession, in 
 imitation of Fox and Pitt I think on the subject oi 
 Irish union, or it might be Catholic emancipation. I 
 have forgotten all but the fact that the lady who sat 
 next to me said, " Oh, the advantages you gentlemen 
 have ! I never before knew the power of human 
 oratory'' Human oratory I will swear to. 
 
 On the 1 2th of August I received a letter from 
 Mr. Walter, informing me that he had no longer need 
 of my services, and on the 29th of September I for- 
 mally laid down my office of Foreign Editor of the 
 Times. I left Mr. Walter on very good terms ; he 
 had a kindly feeling towards me, and his conduct had 
 been uniformly friendly and respectful. He had never 
 treated me as one who received his wages, and at 
 his table no one could have guessed our relation to 
 each other. On two occasions he wished me to under- 
 take duties which are only confided to trustworthy 
 friends. Let me here bear my testimony to his 
 character. He may not have fixed his standard at 
 the highest point, but he endeavoured to conform 
 to it. 
 
 This is the proper place for me to mention two 
 persons connected with the Times while I wrote for 
 
 U 2 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 1809. 
 
 H. C. K.'s 
 
 '.ngagement 
 in connec- 
 tion with 
 the Times 
 ceases.
 
 292 
 
 Writers in the Times. 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1809. 
 
 Peter 
 Fraser. 
 
 Sterling. 
 
 W. Combe. 
 
 it. The writer of the great leaders the flash articles 
 which made a noise was Peter Fraser, then a Fellow 
 of Corpus Christi, Cambridge, afterwards Rector of 
 Kegworth, in Leicestershire. He used to sit in Walter's 
 parlour and write his articles after dinner. He was 
 never made known as editor or writer, and would pro- 
 bably have thought it. a degradation ; but he was prime 
 adviser and friend, and continued to write long after 
 I had ceased to do so. He was a man of general 
 ability, and when engaged for the Times was a powerful 
 writer. The only man who in a certain vehemence of 
 declamation equalled, or perhaps surpassed him, was 
 the author of the papers signed "Vetus" that is 
 Sterling, the father of the younger Sterling, the free- 
 thinking clergyman, whose remains Julius Hare has 
 published. 
 
 There is another person belonging to this period, 
 who is a character certainly worth writing about ; 
 indeed I have known few to be compared with him. 
 It was on my first acquaintance with Walter that I 
 used to notice in his parlour a remarkably fine old 
 gentleman. He was tall, with a stately figure and 
 handsome face. He did not appear to work much 
 with the pen, but was chiefly a consulting man. When 
 Walter was away he used to be more at the office, 
 and to decide in the dernier ressort. His name was 
 W. Combe. It was not till after I had left the office 
 that I learned what I shall now relate. At this time 
 and until the end of his life he was an inhabitant of 
 the King's Bench Prison, and when he came to Print- 
 ing-House Square it was only by virtue of a day rule.
 
 Writers in the Times. 
 
 293 
 
 I believe that Walter offered to release him from 
 prison by paying his debts. This he would not 
 permit, as he did not acknowledge the equity of the 
 claim for which 'he suffered imprisonment. He pre- 
 ferred living on an allowance from Walter, and was, 
 he said, perfectly happy. He used to be attended by 
 a young man who was a sort of half-servant, half- 
 companion. Combe had been for many years of his 
 life a man of letters, and wrote books anonymously. 
 Some of these acquired a great temporary popularity. 
 One at least, utterly worthless, was for a time, by the 
 aid of prints as worthless as the text, to be seen every- 
 where now only in old circulating libraries. This is 
 " The Travels of Dr. Syntax in search of the Pic- 
 turesque." It is a long poem in eight-line verse ; in 
 external form something between Prior and Hudibras, 
 but in merit with no real affinity to either. Combe 
 wrote novels ; one I recollect reading with amusement 
 the " German Gil Bias." He was also the author of 
 the famous " Letters of a Nobleman to his Son," gene- 
 rally ascribed to Lord Lyttelton. Amyot told me 
 that he heard Windham speak of him. " I shall always 
 have a kindness for old Combe," said Windham, " for 
 he was the first man that ever praised me, and when 
 praise was therefore worth having." That was in 
 " Lord Lyttelton's Letters." Combe had, as I have 
 said, the exterior of a gentleman. I understand that 
 he was a man of fortune when young, and travelled 
 in Europe, and even made a journey with Sterne ; 
 that he ran through his fortune, and took to literature, 
 when " house and land were gone and spent," and 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 
 Dr. 
 
 Syntax.
 
 294 
 
 W. Combe. 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 
 Combe's 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 when his high connections ceased to be of service. 
 Of these connections, and of the adventures of his 
 youth, he was very fond of talking, and I used to enjoy 
 the anecdotes he told after dinner, until one day, when 
 he had been very communicative, and I had sucked 
 in all he related with greedy ear, Fraser said, laughing, 
 to Walter, " Robinson, you see, is quite a flat ; he 
 believes all old Combe says." " I believe whatever 
 a gentleman says till I have some reason to the con- 
 trary." " Well, then," said Fraser, " you must believe 
 nothing he says that is about himself. What he 
 relates is often true, except that he makes himself 
 the doer. He gives us well-known anecdotes, and 
 only transfers the action to himself." This, of 
 course, was a sad interruption to my pleasure. I 
 might otherwise have enriched these reminiscences 
 with valuable facts about Sterne, Johnson, Garrick, 
 Mrs. Siddons, and other worthies of the last genera- 
 tion. 
 
 This infirmity of old Combe was quite notorious. 
 Amyot related to me a curious story which he heard 
 from Dr. Parr. The Doctor was at a large dinner- 
 party when Combe gave a very pleasant and inte- 
 resting account of his building a well-known house on 
 Keswick Lake ; he went very much into details, till at 
 last the patience of one of the party was exhausted, 
 and he cried out, " Why, what an impudent fellow you 
 are ! You have given a very true and capital account 
 of the house, and I wonder how you learned it ; but 
 that house was built by my father ; it was never out 
 of the family, and is in my own possession at this
 
 Tlie London Review. 
 
 295 
 
 moment." Combe was not in the least abashed, but 
 answered, with the greatest nonchalance, " I am obliged 
 to you for doing justice to the fidelity of my de- 
 scription ; I have no doubt it is your property, and I 
 hope you will live long to enjoy it." 
 
 The first occasion of my appearing in my own name 
 as an author was about this time. Tipper, who esti- 
 mated my talents as a writer by my reputation as a 
 speaker, solicited me to become a collaborateur, under 
 Cumberland, the well-known dramatist, in getting up a 
 new Review, called the London Review, of which the 
 distinguishing feature was to be that each writer should 
 put his name to the article. I was flattered by the 
 application, and readily consented. Four half-crown 
 quarterly numbers were published. I dined once at 
 Tipper's with Cumberland, and thought him a gentle- 
 manly amiable man, but did not form a high opinion of 
 his abilities ; and I thought the less of him because he 
 professed so much admiration of my single article as to 
 direct it to be placed first in the number. This was a 
 review of the great pamphlet on the " Convention of 
 Cintra," by Wordsworth. The only valuable portion of 
 the article was a translation of Arndt's " Geist der Zeit," 
 which treated of the Spanish character, and predicted 
 that the Spaniards would be the first to resist the 
 tyranny of Buonaparte. 
 
 In November I began keeping my terms at Middle 
 Temple Hall, but was unable to make up my mind to 
 study the Law seriously, as I ought at once to have 
 done. One ,of my severest self-reproaches is that I did 
 not, without delay, immediately become the pupil of 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1809. 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 writes for 
 
 the 
 
 London 
 Review. 
 
 Keeping 
 Terms.
 
 296 
 
 Terms at Middle Temple. 
 
 CHAP. xn. 
 1809. 
 
 Walk to 
 Royston. 
 
 Mr. Wedd. 
 
 some pleader. It needed a special inducement for 
 that ; and all I did was merely to keep a term. On 
 November i8th I ate my. first dinner, having deposited 
 my ,100 with the Treasurer. I entered the beautiful 
 hall with an oppressive sense of shame, and wished to 
 hide myself as if I were an intruder. I was conscious 
 of being too old to commence the study of Law with 
 any probability of success. My feelings, however, were 
 much relieved by seeing William Quayle in the hall. 
 He very good-naturedly found a place for me at his 
 mess. But this dining at mess was so unpleasant that, 
 in keeping the twelve terms required, I doubt whether I 
 took a single superfluous dinner, although these would 
 only have cost 6d. each. 
 
 On the 23rd of December Mr. Rutt, his nephew 
 George Wedd, and myself walked to Royston. There 
 was a remarkable gradation of age among us. We 
 were on a visit to Mr. Nash, who was fifteen years older 
 than Mr. Rutt, who was fifteen years older than myself, 
 and I was in my thirty-fourth year, and fifteen years 
 older than George Wedd. Mr. Rutt and I were proud 
 of our feat a walk of thirty-eight miles ! But old 
 Mr. Wedd, the father of George, was displeased with his 
 son. He was a country gentleman, proud of his horses, 
 and conscious of being a good rider. I was told that 
 he disliked me, and would not invite me to his house. 
 I offered a wager that I would gain his goodwill. After 
 dinner we talked of books ; Mr. Wedd detested books 
 and the quoters of books ; but I persisted, and praised 
 Lord Herbert of Cherbury, and illustrated the beauty 
 of his writing by citing that wise and fine saying of his,
 
 At Royston. 
 
 297 
 
 " A fine man upon a fine horse is the noblest 
 object on earth for God to look down upon." Mr. 
 Wedd declared that he never thought Mr. Robinson 
 could make himself so agreeable, and I was invited 
 to his house. 
 
 CHAP. xii. 
 1809.
 
 298 
 
 Godwin. 
 
 CHAP. xin. 
 1 8 10. 
 
 Godwin. 
 
 Curran. 
 
 Anne 
 Plumptre. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 1 8 10. 
 
 I REMAINED all the spring and summer in London, 
 with the exception of making short journeys ; and 
 spent my time at Collier's, keeping up all my old 
 visiting acquaintance and making new. I became more 
 intimate with Godwin, who was keeping a bookseller's 
 shop in his wife's name. I now and then saw interesting 
 persons at his house ; indeed, I saw none but remarkable 
 persons there. Among the most remarkable was the 
 great Irish orator, Curran. His talk was rich in 
 idiom and imagery, and in warmth of feeling. He 
 was all passion fierce in his dislikes, and not sparing 
 in the freedom of his language even of those with 
 whom he was on familiar terms. One evening, walking 
 from Godwin's house, he said of a friend, " She is a 
 pustule of vanity." He was not so violent in his politics. 
 The short ministry of the Whigs had had the good 
 effect of softening the political prejudices of most of 
 us, though not of all the old Jacobins, as is shown by 
 a speech made by Anne Plumptre, the translator of 
 Kotzebue, whom I met at a dinner-party at Gamaliel 
 Lloyd's. She said, " People are talking about an in- 
 vasion I am not afraid of an invasion ; I believe the 
 country would be all the happier if Buonaparte were 
 to effect a landing and overturn the Government. He
 
 Blake, 
 
 299 
 
 would destroy the Church and the aristocracy, and his 
 government would be better than the one we have." 
 
 I amused myself this spring by writing an account 
 of the insane poet, painter, and engraver, Blake. Per- 
 thes of Hamburg had written to me asking me to 
 send him an article for a new German magazine, entitled 
 " Vaterlandische Annalen," which he was about to set 
 up. Dr. Malkin having in the memoirs of his son 
 given an account of Blake's extraordinary genius, with 
 specimens of his poems, I resolved out of these materials 
 to compile a paper. This I did, and it was translated 
 into German by Dr. Julius, who many years afterwards 
 introduced himself to me as my translator. The article 
 appears in the single number of the second volume of 
 the " Vaterlandische Annalen." For it was at this time 
 that Buonaparte united Hamburg to the French em- 
 pire, on which Perthes manfully gave up the magazine, 
 saying, as he had no longer a "Vaterland," there could 
 be no "Vaterlandische Annalen." But before I drew 
 up this paper I went to see a gallery of Blake's 
 paintings, which were exhibited by his brother, a hosier 
 in Carnaby Market. The entrance fee was 2s. 6d., 
 catalogue included. I was deeply interested by the 
 catalogue as well as the pictures. I took four copies, 
 telling the brother I hoped he would let me come again. 
 He said, " Oh ! as often as you please."* I afterwards 
 became acquainted with Blake, but will postpone what 
 I have to relate of this extraordinary character. 
 
 In the June of this year I made the acquaintance of 
 Ayrton, with whom I was intimate for many years ; and 
 
 * This visit is referred to in Gilchrist's "Life of Blake." Vol. i., p. 226. 
 
 CHAP. xin. 
 1810. 
 Blake. 
 
 H. C. X.'s 
 
 paper on 
 Blake. 
 
 Ayrton.
 
 300 
 
 New Friends. 
 
 CHAP, xiii, 
 1810. 
 
 Captain 
 Burney. 
 
 Serjeant 
 Rough. 
 
 Miss 
 Words- 
 worth. 
 
 soon afterwards the name of his friend Captain Burney 
 occurs in my notes. They lived near each other, in 
 Little James Street, Pimlico. I used to be invited to 
 the Captain's whist parties, of which dear Lamb was the 
 chief ornament. The Captain was himself a character, 
 a fine, noble creature gentle, with a rough exterior, 
 as became the associate of Captain Cook in his voyages 
 round the world, and the literary historian of all these 
 acts of circumnavigation. Here used to be Hazlitt, till 
 he affronted the Captain by severe criticisms on the works 
 of his sister Madame D'Arblay. Another frequenter of 
 these delightful whist parties was Rickman, the Speaker's 
 secretary, and who then invited me to his house. Rick- 
 man's clerk Phillips and others used also to be present. 
 
 It was in the course of this summer that my friend 
 Mrs. Charles Aikin invited me to meet Serjeant Rough 
 at dinner. We became intimate at once. I ought to 
 have made his acquaintance before, for when I was at 
 Weimar in 1805 Miss Flaxman, then a governess in the 
 family of Mr. Hare Naylor, gave me a letter of intro- 
 duction to him. His wife, a daughter of John Wilkes, 
 was a woman of some talents and taste, who could 
 make herself attractive. 
 
 During a visit I made to Bury about this time, Miss 
 Wordsworth was staying with the Clarksons ; I brought 
 her up to London, and left her at the Lambs'. 
 
 Miss WORDSWORTH TO H. C. R. 
 
 Grasmere, Nov. 6th, 1810. 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 I am very proud of a commission which my brother
 
 Letter from Miss Wordsworth. 
 
 301 
 
 has given me, as it affords me an opportunity of 
 expressing the pleasure with which I think of you, and 
 of our long journey side by side in the pleasant sun- 
 shine, our splendid entrance into the great city, and our 
 rambles together in the crowded streets. I assure you 
 I am not ungrateful for even the least of your kind 
 attentions, and shall be happy in return to be your 
 guide amongst these mountains, where, if you bring a 
 mind free from care, I can promise you a rich store of 
 noble enjoyments. My brother and sister too will be 
 exceedingly happy to see you ; and, if you tell him 
 stories from Spain of enthusiasm, patriotism, and detes- 
 tation of the usurper, my brother will be a ready 
 listener ; and in presence of these grand works of 
 nature you may feed each other's lofty hopes. We are 
 waiting with the utmost anxiety for the issue of that 
 battle which you arranged so nicely by Charles Lamb's 
 fireside. My brother goes to seek the newspapers when- 
 ever it is possible to get a sight of one, and he is almost 
 
 out of patience that the tidings are delayed so long. 
 
 # # * # * # 
 
 Pray, as you most likely see diaries at least from 
 time to time, tell me how they are going on. There is 
 nobody in the world out of our own house for whom 
 I am more deeply interested. You will, I know, be 
 happy that our little ones are all going on well. The 
 little delicate Catherine, the only one for whom we had 
 any serious alarm, gains ground daily. Yet it will be 
 long before she can be, or have the appearance of 
 being, a stout child. There was great joy in the house 
 at my return, which each shewed in a different way. 
 
 CHAP. xm. 
 1810. 
 
 Letter from 
 
 Miss 
 Words- 
 worth to 
 H. C. R.
 
 302 
 
 Letter from Charles Lamb. 
 
 CHAP. xin. 
 1 8 10. 
 
 Letter from 
 
 C. Lamb to 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 They are sweet wild creatures, and I think you would 
 love them all. John is thoughtful with his wildness ; 
 Dora alive, active, and quick ; Thomas innocent and 
 simple as a new-born babe. John had no feeling but of 
 bursting joy when he saw me. Dorothy's first question 
 was, " Where is my doll ?" We had delightful weather 
 when I first got home ; but on the first morning 
 Dorothy roused me from my sleep with, " It is time to 
 get up, Aunt, it is a blasty morning it does blast so." 
 And the next morning, not more encouraging, she said, 
 " It is a hailing morning it hails so hard." You must 
 know that our house stands on a hill, exposed to all 
 
 hails and blasts 
 
 D. WORDSWORTH. 
 
 CHARLES LAMB TO H. C. R. 
 
 Dear R- 
 
 1810. 
 
 My brother, whom you have met at my rooms 
 (a plump, good-looking man of seven-and-forty), has 
 written a book about humanity, which I transmit to 
 you herewith. Wilson the publisher has put it into 
 his head that you can get it reviewed for him. I dare 
 say it is not in the scope of your Review ; but if you 
 could put it in any likely train he would rejoice. For, 
 alas ! our boasted humanity partakes of vanity. As it 
 is, he teazes me to death with choosing to suppose 
 that I could get it into all the Reviews at a moment's 
 notice. I ! ! who have been set up as a mark for them 
 to throw at, and would willingly consign them all to 
 Megaera's snaky locks. 
 
 But here's the book, and don't show it to Mrs. Collier,
 
 Madame Lavaggi. 
 
 303 
 
 for I remember she makes excellent eel soup, and the 
 leading points of the book are directed against that 
 very process. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 C. LAMB. 
 
 Miss Wordsworth left London just at the time of 
 the arrival of Madame Lavaggi, the Spanish lady of 
 whom I have already spoken. She came to England 
 because the presence of the French rendered her own 
 country intolerable to her. She was a- high-spirited 
 patriot and also a good Catholic, but thoroughly 
 liberal as far as her narrow information permitted. 
 The only occasion on which she showed any bigoted 
 or ungenerous feeling was on my showing her at the 
 Tower of London the axe with which Anne Boleyn 
 was beheaded. "Ah ! que j'adore cet instrument!" she 
 exclaimed. On my remonstrating with her, she told me 
 she had been brought up to consider Anne Boleyn as 
 one possessed by a devil ; that naughty children were 
 frightened by the threat of being sent to her ; and that 
 she was held to be the great cause of the Reformation, 
 as the seducer of the King, &c. &c. No wonder that 
 Romanists should so think, when Protestants have ex- 
 tensively circulated that very foolish line ascribed to 
 
 Gray 
 
 " When Gospel truth first beam'd from Anna's eyes." 
 
 Madame Lavaggi received my correction of her 
 notions in the very best spirit. She is the one Spaniard 
 of whom I think with especial respect and kindness. 
 We of colder temperament and more sober minds feel 
 
 CHAP. xin. 
 
 1810. 
 
 Madame 
 
 Lavaggi 
 
 in London.
 
 304 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 CHAP. xin. 
 
 1 8 10. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on Words- 
 worth. 
 
 ourselves oppressed by the stronger feelings of more 
 passionate characters at least this is the case with me. 
 At the same time I fully recognize the dignity of 
 passion, and am able to admire what I have not, and 
 am not. 
 
 At the end of this year I wrote a few pages entirely 
 devoted to Coleridge. The following is the substance 
 of them : 
 
 Nov. I4//Z. Saw Coleridge for the first time in private, 
 at Charles Lamb's. A short interview, which allowed of 
 little opportunity for the display of his peculiar powers. 
 
 He related to us that Jeffrey, the editor of the Edin- 
 burgh Review, had lately called on him, and assured him 
 that he was a great admirer of Wordsworth's poetry, 
 that the Lyrical Ballads w T ere always on his table, and 
 that Wordsworth had been attacked in the Review 
 simply because the errors of men of genius ought to be 
 exposed. Towards me, Coleridge added, Jeffrey was even 
 flattering. He was like a schoolboy, who, having tried 
 his man and been thrashed, becomes contentedly a fag. 
 
 Nov. i^th. A very delightful evening at Charles 
 Lamb's ; Coleridge, Morgan, Mr. Burney, &c., there. 
 Coleridge very eloquent on German metaphysics and 
 poetry, Wordsworth, and Spanish politics. 
 
 Of Wordsworth he spoke with great warmth of praise, 
 but objected to some of his poems. Wishing to avoid 
 an undue regard to the high and genteel in society, 
 Wordsworth had unreasonably attached himself to the 
 low, so that he himself erred at last. He should have 
 recollected that verse being the language of passion, 
 and passion dictating energetic expressions, it became
 
 Coleridge on German PJiilosopJiy. 
 
 305 
 
 him to make his subjects and style accord. One 
 asks why tales so simple were not in prose. With 
 "malice prepense" he fixes on objects of reflection, 
 which do not naturally excite it. Coleridge cen- 
 sured the disproportion in the machinery of the 
 poem on the Gipsies. Had the whole world been 
 standing idle, more powerful arguments to expose the 
 evil could not have been brought forward. Of Kant he 
 spoke in terms of high admiration. In his " Himmel's 
 System " he appeared to unite the genius of Burnet and 
 Newton. He praised also the " Traume eines Geister- 
 sehers," and intimated that he should one day translate 
 the work on the Sublime and Beautiful. The "Kritik der 
 Urtheilskraft " he considered the most astonishing of 
 Kant's works. Both Fichte and Schelling he thought 
 would be found at last to have erred where they devi- 
 ated from Kant ; but he considered Fichte a great 
 logician, and Schelling perhaps a still greater man. 
 In both he thought the want of gratitude towards their 
 master a sign of the absence of the highest excellence. 
 Schelling's system resolves itself into fanaticism, not 
 better than that of Jacob Boehme. Coleridge had known 
 Tieck at Rome, but was not aware of his eminence as 
 a poet. He conceded to Goethe universal talent, but felt 
 a want of moral life to be the defect of his poetry. 
 Schiller he spoke more kindly of. He quoted "Nimmer, 
 das glaubt mir, erscheinen die Gotter, nimmer allein."* 
 (He has since translated it.) Of Jean Paul he said that 
 
 * " Never alone, believe me, do the Gods appear." This poem is entitled 
 " Dithyrambe" in the twelve-volume edition of Schiller's works, 1838, Vol. I., 
 p. 240. 
 
 VOL. I. X 
 
 CHAP. xni. 
 1 8 10. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on German 
 philo- 
 sophers
 
 306 
 
 Coleridge on 
 
 CHAP, xiir, 
 
 1810. 
 Wit. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on fancy 
 and imagi- 
 nation. 
 
 Anecdote 
 of Fuseli. 
 
 his wit consisted not in pointing out analogies in them- 
 selves striking, but in finding unexpected analogies. You 
 admire, not the things combined, but the act of combi- 
 nation. He applied this also to Windham. But is not 
 this the character of all wit ? That which he contrasted 
 with it as a different kind of wit is in reality not wit, but 
 acuteness. He made an elaborate distinction between 
 fancy and imagination. The excess of fancy is delirium, 
 of imagination mania. Fancy is the arbitrarily bringing 
 together of things that lie remote, and forming them 
 into a unity. The materials lie ready for the fancy, 
 which acts by a sort of juxtaposition. On the other 
 hand, the imagination under excitement generates and 
 produces a form of its own. The "seas of milk and 
 ships of amber" he quoted as fanciful delirium. He 
 related, as a sort of disease of imagination, what 
 occurred to himself. He had been watching intently 
 the motions of a kite among the mountains of West- 
 moreland, when on a sudden he saw two kites in an 
 opposite direction. This delusion lasted some time. 
 At last he discovered that the two kites were the 
 fluttering branches of a tree beyond a wall. 
 
 Nov. \%th. At Godwin's with Northcote, Coleridge, 
 &c. Coleridge made himself very merry at the expense 
 of Fuseli, whom he always called Fuzzle or Fuzly. He 
 told a story of Fuseli's being on a visit at Liverpool at 
 a time when unfortunately he had to divide the atten- 
 tion of the public with a Prussian soldier, who had 
 excited a great deal of notice by his enormous powers of 
 eating. And the annoyance was aggravated by persons 
 persisting in considering the soldier as Fuseli's country-
 
 Various Subjects. 
 
 307 
 
 man. He spent his last evening at Dr. Crompton's,* when 
 Roscoe (whose visitor Fuseli was) took an opportunity 
 of giving a hint to the party that no one should mention 
 the glutton. The admonition unfortunately was not 
 heard by a lady, who, turning to the great Academician 
 and lecturer, said, " Well, sir, your countryman has been 
 surpassing himself!" "Madam," growled the irritated 
 painter, " the fellow is no countryman of mine." " He 
 is a foreigner ! Have you not heard what he has been 
 doing ? He has eaten a live cat ! " " A live cat ! " 
 every one exclaimed, except Fuseli, whose rage was 
 excited by the suggestion of a lady famous for her 
 blunders, " Dear me, Mr. Fuseli, that would be a fine 
 subject for your pencil." "My pencil, madam?" "To 
 be sure, sir, as the horrible is your forte." " You mean 
 the terrible, madam," he replied with an assumed com- 
 posure, muttering at the same time between his teeth, 
 " if a silly woman can mean anything." 
 
 Dec. 2Oth. Met Coleridge by accident with Charles 
 and Mary Lamb. As I entered he was apparently 
 speaking of Christianity. He went on to say that 
 miracles are not an essential in the Christian system. 
 He insisted that they were not brought forward as 
 proofs ; that they were acknowledged to have been 
 performed by others as well as the true believers. 
 Pharaoh's magicians wrought miracles, though those 
 of Moses were more powerful. In the New Testament, 
 the appeal is made to the knowledge which the 
 believer has of the truths of his religion, not to the 
 wonders wrought to make him believe. Of Jesus Christ 
 
 * The father of Judge Crompton. 
 
 X 2 
 
 CHAP. xin. 
 1810. 
 
 Miracles.
 
 3 o8 
 
 Coleridge on 
 
 CHAP. xni. 
 1810. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on inspira- 
 tion. 
 
 On belief. 
 
 Saying 
 of Pascal. 
 
 he asserted that he was a Platonic philosopher. And 
 when Christ spoke of his identity with the Father, he 
 spoke in a Spinozistic or Pantheistic sense, according to 
 which he could truly say that his transcendental sense 
 was one with God, while his empirical sense retained its 
 finite nature. On my making the remark that in a 
 certain sense every one who utters a truth may be 
 said to be inspired, Coleridge assented, and after- 
 wards named Fox and others among the Quakers, 
 Madame Guyon, St. Theresa, &c., as being also 
 inspired. 
 
 On my suggesting, in the form of a question, that an 
 eternal absolute truth, like those of religion, could not 
 be proved by an accidental fact in history, he at once 
 assented, and declared it to be not advisable to ground 
 the belief in Christianity on historical evidence. He 
 went so far as to affirm that religious belief is an act, 
 not of the understanding, but of the will. To become 
 a believer, one must love the doctrine, and feel in 
 harmony with it, and not sit down coolly to inquire 
 whether he should believe it or not. 
 
 Notwithstanding the sceptical tendency of such opin- 
 ions, Coleridge added, that, accepting Christianity as he 
 did in its spirit in conformity with his own philosophy, 
 he was content for the sake of its divine truths to 
 receive as articles of faith, or perhaps I ought to say, 
 leave undisputed the miracles of the New Testament, 
 taken in their literal sense. 
 
 In writing this I am reminded of one of the famous 
 sayings of Pascal, which Jacobi quotes repeatedly : 
 " The things that belong to men must be understood in
 
 Various Subjects. 
 
 309 
 
 order that they may be loved ; the things that belong 
 to God must be loved in order to be understood." 
 
 Coleridge warmly praised Spinoza, Jacobi on Spinoza, 
 and Schiller " Ueber die Sendung Mdses," &c. And he 
 concurred with me in thinking the main fault of Spinoza 
 to be his attempting to reduce to demonstration that 
 which must be an object of faith. He did not agree 
 with Charles Lamb in his admiration of those playful 
 and delightful plays of Shakespeare, "Love's Labour's 
 Lost" and the " Midsummer Night's Dream;" but both 
 affirmed that not a line of "Titus Andronicus" could 
 have been from Shakespeare's pen. 
 
 Dec. 2$rd. Coleridge dined with the Colliers, talked 
 a vast deal, and delighted every one. Politics, Kantian 
 philosophy, and Shakespeare successively and at last a 
 playful exposure of some bad poets. His remarks on 
 Shakespeare were singularly ingenious. Shakespeare, 
 he said, delighted in portraying characters in which the 
 intellectual powers are found in a pre-eminent degree, 
 while the moral faculties are wanting, at the same 
 time that he taught the superiority of moral greatness. 
 Such is the contrast exhibited in lago and Othello, 
 lago's most marked feature is his delight in governing 
 by fraud and superior understanding the noble-minded 
 and generous Moor. In Richard III. cruelty is less the 
 prominent trait than pride, to which a sense of personal 
 deformity gave a deadly venom. Coleridge, however, 
 asserted his belief that Shakespeare wrote hardly any- 
 thing of this play except the character of Richard : he 
 found the piece a stock play and re-wrote the parts 
 which developed the hero's character : he certainly did 
 
 CHAP. xni. 
 1810. 
 
 Coleridge on 
 Spinoza. 
 
 On Shake- 
 ipeare. 
 
 On 
 
 Richard 
 III.
 
 3io 
 
 Coleridge on 
 
 CHAP. xin. 
 ?8io. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on Pericles. 
 
 On Hamlet. 
 
 On 
 
 Falstaff. 
 
 not write the scenes in which Lady Anne yielded to the 
 usurper's solicitations. He considered " Pericles " as 
 illustrating the way in which Shakespeare handled a 
 piece he had to reftt for representation. At first he pro- 
 ceeded with indifference, only now and then troubling 
 himself to put in a thought or an image, but as he 
 advanced he interested himself in his employment, and 
 the last two acts are almost entirely by him. 
 
 Hamlet he considered in a point of view which seems 
 to agree very well with the representation given in 
 Wilhelm Meister." Hamlet is a man whose ideal and 
 internal images are so vivid that all real objects are 
 faint and dead to him. This we see in his soliloquies 
 on the nature of man and his disregard of life : hence 
 also his vacillation, and the purely convulsive energies 
 he displayed. He acts only by fits and snatches. He 
 manifests a strong inclination to suicide. On my 
 observing that it appeared strange Shakespeare did not 
 make suicide the termination to his piece, Coleridge 
 replied that Shakespeare wished to show how even such 
 a character is at last obliged to be the sport of chance 
 a salutary moral doctrine. But I thought this the 
 suggestion of the moment only, and not a happy one, 
 to obviate a seeming objection. Hamlet remains at last 
 the helpless, unpractical being, though every inducement 
 to activity is given which the very appearance of the 
 spirit of his murdered father could bring with it. 
 
 Coleridge also considered Falstaff as an instance of 
 the predominance of intellectual power. He is content 
 to be thought both a liar and a coward in order to 
 obtain influence over the minds of his associates. His
 
 Various Subjects. 
 
 aggravated lies about the robbery are conscious and 
 purposed, not inadvertent untruths. On my observing 
 that this account seemed to justify Cooke's representa- 
 tion, according to which a foreigner imperfectly under- 
 standing the character would fancy Falstaff the de- 
 signing knave who does actually outwit the Prince, 
 Coleridge answered that, in his own estimation, Falstaff 
 is the superior, who cannot easily be convinced that the 
 Prince has escaped him ; but that, as in other instances, 
 Shakespeare has shown us the defeat of mere intellect 
 by a noble feeling ; the Prince being the superior moral 
 character, who rises above his insidious companion. 
 
 On my noticing Hume's obvious preference of the 
 French tragedians to Shakespeare, Coleridge exclaimed, 
 " Hume comprehended as much of Shakespeare as an 
 apothecary's phial would, placed under the falls of 
 Niagara." 
 
 We spoke of Milton. He was, said Coleridge, a 
 most determined aristocrat, an enemy to popular 
 elections, and he would have been most decidedly 
 hostile to the Jacobins of the present day. He would 
 have thought our popular freedom excessive. He was 
 of opinion that the government belonged to the wise, 
 and he thought the people fools. In all his works there 
 is but one exceptionable passage that in which he vin- 
 dicates the expulsion of the members from the House of 
 Commons by Cromwell. Coleridge on this took occa- 
 sion to express his approbation of the death of Charles. 
 
 Of Milton's " Paradise Regained," he observed that 
 however inferior its kind is to "Paradise Lost," its 
 execution is superior. This was all Milton meant in the 
 
 CHAP. XHI. 
 1810. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on Hume. 
 
 On Milton. 
 
 On 
 
 Paradise 
 Regained.
 
 3 I2 
 
 Coleridge on 
 
 CHAP. xni. 
 1810: 
 
 Coleridge 
 
 on yeremy 
 
 Taylor. 
 
 On Locke. 
 
 preference he is said to have given to his later poem. It 
 is a didactic poem, and formed on the model of Job. 
 
 Coleridge remarked on the lesson of tolerance taught 
 us by the opposite opinions entertained concerning the 
 death of Charles by such great men as Milton and 
 Jeremy Taylor. 
 
 Jeremy Taylor's "Holy Dying," he affirmed, is a 
 perfect poem, and in all its particulars, even the rhythm, 
 may be compared with Young's " Night Thoughts." In 
 the course of his metaphysical conversation, Coleridge 
 remarked on Hartley's theory of association. This 
 doctrine is as old as Aristotle, and Hartley himself, 
 after publishing his system, when he wrote his second 
 volume on religion, built his proofs, not on the maxims 
 of his first volume, which he had already learnt to 
 appreciate better, but on the principles of other schools. 
 Coleridge quoted (I forget from whom) a description of 
 association as the " law of our imagination." Thought, 
 he observed, is a laborious breaking through the law 
 of association; the natural train of fancy is violently 
 repressed ; the free yielding to its power produces 
 dreaming or delirium. The great absurdity committed 
 by those who would build everything on association 
 is that they forget the things associated : these are left 
 out of the account. 
 
 Of Locke he spoke, as usual, with great contempt, 
 that is, in reference to his metaphysical work. He 
 considered him as having led to the destruction of 
 metaphysical science, by encouraging the unlearned 
 public to think that with mere common sense they 
 might dispense with disciplined study. He praised
 
 Various Subjects. 
 
 313 
 
 Stillingfleet as Locke's opponent ; and he ascribed 
 Locke's popularity to his political character, being the 
 advocate of the new against the old dynasty, to his 
 religious character as a Christian, though but an Arian 
 for both parties, the Christians against the sceptics, 
 and the liberally-minded against the orthodox, were glad 
 to raise his reputation ; and to the nationality of the 
 people, who considered him and Newton as the adver- 
 saries of the German Leibnitz. Voltaire, to depress 
 Leibnitz, raised Locke. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 " Coleridge kept me on the stretch of attention and 
 admiration from half-past three till twelve o'clock. On 
 politics, metaphysics, and poetry, more especially on 
 the Regency, Kant, and Shakespeare, he was astonish- 
 ingly eloquent. But I cannot help remarking that, 
 although he practises all sorts of delightful tricks, and 
 shows admirable skill in riding his hobby, yet he may 
 be easily unsaddled. I was surprised to find how one 
 may obtain from him concessions which lead to gross 
 inconsistencies. Though an incomparable declaimer 
 and speech-maker, he has neither the readiness nor the 
 acuteness required by a colloquial disputant ; so that, 
 with a sense of inferiority which makes me feel humble 
 in his presence, I do not feel in the least afraid of him. 
 Rough said yesterday, that he is sure Coleridge would 
 never have succeeded at the Bar even as a speaker." 
 
 This I wrote when I knew little of him ; I used 
 afterwards to compare him as a disputant to a ser- 
 pent easy to kill, if you assume the offensive, but if 
 
 CHAP. xin. 
 
 1810. 
 
 Letter from 
 
 H. C. R. to 
 
 T. R.
 
 Flaxman. 
 
 CHAP. xni. 
 
 1 8 10. 
 
 Madame de 
 Stael. 
 
 Flaxman. 
 
 Miss Flax- 
 man. 
 
 Translat- 
 ing from 
 Goethe. 
 
 Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld. 
 
 Party at 
 Flaxman s. 
 
 you let him attack, his bite is mortal. Some years 
 after this, when I saw Madame de Stael in London, I 
 asked her what she thought of him : she replied, "He 
 is very great in monologue, but he has no idea of 
 dialogue." This I repeated, and it appeared in the 
 Quarterly Review, 
 
 It was at the very close of the year that I made an 
 acquaintance which afforded me unqualified satisfaction, 
 except as all enjoyments that are transient are followed 
 by sorrow when they are terminated. This new ac- 
 quaintance was the great sculptor, John Flaxman. 
 
 Having learned from Rough that my German ac- 
 quaintance, Miss Flaxman, had returned, and was living 
 with her brother, I called on her to make my apologies 
 for neglecting to deliver my letter to Rough. She 
 received them, not with undignified indifference, but 
 with great good-nature. On this occasion I was intro- 
 duced to Mrs. Flaxman, a shrewd lively talkative 
 woman, and received an invitation to spend the last 
 night of the year with them. The whole day was 
 interesting. I find from my pocket-book that I trans- 
 lated in the forenoon a portion of Goethe's " Sammler 
 und die Seinigen," which I never ended, because I could 
 not invent English comic words to express the abuses 
 arising from one-sidedness in the several schools of 
 painting. In the afternoon I sat with Mrs. Barbauld, 
 still in all the beauty of her fine taste, correct under- 
 standing, as well as pure integrity ; and, in the evening, 
 I was one of a merry party at Flaxman's. But this 
 evening I saw merely the good-humoured, even frolic-
 
 Flaxman. 
 
 315 
 
 some, kind-hearted man. Every sportive word and 
 action of Flaxman's was enhanced by his grotesque 
 figure. He had an intelligent and benignant counte- 
 nance, but he was short and hump-backed, so that in his 
 laughter it often seemed as if he were mocking himself. 
 There were the Roughs and a few others, enough to fill 
 two very small rooms (No. 7, Buckingham Street, which 
 Flaxman bought when he settled in London on his 
 return from Italy, and in which he died). He intro- 
 duced to me a lively, rather short, and stout girl, whom 
 he called his " daughter Ellen." I took him literally, 
 and said I thought he had no child. " Only in one way 
 she is my daughter. Her other father, there, is Mr. 
 Porden, the architect." This same Ellen Porden be- 
 came ultimately the wife of Captain Franklin, the 
 North Pole voyager. 
 
 It was also in this year that I became acquainted 
 with Manning,* then a special pleader, now, perhaps, the 
 most learned man at the bar, serjeant or barrister. He 
 was the son of a well-known Arian divine at Exeter, 
 and he has had the manliness and integrity never to be 
 ashamed of Dissent. 
 
 I ought not to omit the circumstance that I kept four 
 terms this year. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Miss WORDSWORTH. 
 
 56, Hatton Garden, Dec. 2$rd, 1810. 
 My Dear Madam, 
 
 I have postponed answering your 
 
 * The Queen's Ancient Serjeant, who died in 1866. 
 
 In early life Manning devoted himself for a year and a half to agriculture. 
 Afterwards he went to Germany for a year, to learn the language, in order to 
 fit himself for mercantile pursuits. Finally he fixed on the law as a profession. 
 
 CHAP. xin. 
 1810. 
 
 A fanning.
 
 Letter to Miss WordswortJi. 
 
 CHAP. xin. 
 
 1 8 10. 
 
 Charles and 
 Mary 
 Lamb. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 H. c. R: S 
 
 love of 
 Spain. 
 
 acceptable letter till I could speak to you concerning 
 our common friends, the Lambs. 
 
 Mary, I am glad to say, is just now very comfortable. 
 But I hear she has been in a feeble and tottering con- 
 dition. She has put herself under Dr. Tuthill, who has 
 prescribed water. Charles, in consequence, resolved to 
 accommodate himself to her, and since lord mayor's 
 day has abstained from all other liquor, as well as from 
 smoking. We shall all rejoice, indeed, if this experi- 
 ment succeeds. 
 
 Who knows but that this promising resolution may 
 have been strengthened by the presence of Coleridge ? 
 I have spent several evenings with your friend. I say a 
 great deal when I declare that he has not sunk below 
 my expectations, for they were never raised so before 
 by the fame of any man. He appears to be quite well, 
 and if the admiration he excites in me be mingled with 
 any sentiments of compassion, this latter feeling pro- 
 ceeds rather from what I have heard, than from what I 
 have seen. He has more eloquence than any man I 
 ever saw, except perhaps Curran, the Irish orator, who 
 possesses in a very high degree the only excellence 
 which Coleridge wants, to be a perfect parlour orator, 
 viz. short sentences. Coleridge cannot converse. He 
 addresses himself to his hearers. At the same time, he 
 is a much better listener than I expected. 
 
 Your kind invitation to the Lakes is most welcome. 
 If I do not embrace the offer, be assured it is not 
 from want of a strong desire to do so. I wish for 
 no journey so much, except, indeed, another voyage to 
 Spain. My admiration, my love, and anxious care con-
 
 Making Verbs. 
 
 317 
 
 tinue to be fixed on that country ; and I have no 
 doubt that if my hopes are not so lofty as those your 
 brother cherishes, it is only because I am myself not so 
 
 lofty. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Coleridge spent an afternoon with us on Sunday. 
 He was delightful. Charles Lamb was unwell, and 
 could not join us. His change of habit, though it on 
 the whole improves his health, yet when he is low- 
 spirited leaves him without a remedy or relief. 
 ****** 
 
 To Mr. Wordsworth my best remembrances. We 
 want unprofaned and unprostituted words to express 
 the kind of feeling I entertain towards him. 
 
 Believe me, &c. &c. 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 P.S. I was interested in your account of the children, 
 and their reception of you ; but it is not only mountain- 
 children that make verbs. I heard an Essex child of 
 seven say lately, in delight at a fierce torrent of rain, 
 " How it is storming ! " The same boy had just before 
 said, "I love to see it roaring and pouring." I have 
 more than once remarked the elements of poetic sense 
 in him. 
 
 CHAP. xrtr. 
 1 8 10.
 
 318 
 
 Talk with Charles Lamb. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Diary. 
 
 C. Lamb ' s 
 opinion of 
 Kehama. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 1811. 
 
 THIS year I began to keep a Diary. This relieves me 
 from one difficulty, but raises another. Hitherto I have 
 had some trouble in bringing back to my memory the 
 most material incidents in the proper order. It was a 
 labour of ^/lection. Now I have to .select When 
 looking at a diary, there seems to be too little distinc- 
 tion between the insignificant and the important, and 
 one is reminded of the proverb, "The wood cannot be 
 seen for the trees."* 
 
 January %th. Spent part of the evening with Charles 
 Lamb (unwell) and his sister. He had just read the 
 " Curse of Kehama," which he said he liked better than 
 any of Southey's long poems. The descriptions he 
 thought beautiful, particularly the finding of Kailyal 
 by Ereenia. He liked the opening, and part of the 
 description of hell ; but, after all, he was not made 
 happier by reading the poem. There is too much trick 
 in it. The three statues and the vacant space for 
 Kehama resemble a pantomime scene ; and the love is 
 ill managed. On the whole, however, Charles Lamb 
 thinks the poem infinitely superior to "Thalaba." 
 
 * Henceforward selections will be given from the Diary, with additions from 
 the Reminiscences. These additions will be marked \JRem,~\, and the year in 
 which they were written will be stated at the foot of the page.
 
 Flaxman' s Dante. 
 
 3*9 
 
 We spoke of Wordsworth and Coleridge. To my 
 surprise, Lamb asserted the latter to be the greater 
 man. He preferred the "Ancient Mariner" to anything 
 Wordsworth had written. He thought the latter too 
 apt to force his own individual feelings on the reader, 
 instead of, like Shakespeare, entering fully into the 
 feelings of others. This, I observed, is very much 
 owing to the lyrical character of Wordsworth's poems. 
 And Lamb concluded by expressing high admiration of 
 Wordsworth, and especially of the Sonnets. He also 
 spoke of "Hart-leap Well" as exquisite. 
 
 Some one, speaking of Shakespeare, mentioned his 
 anachronism in which Hector speaks of Aristotle. 
 " That's what Johnson referred to," said Lamb, " when 
 he wrote, 
 
 "And panting Time toils after him in vain! " 
 
 January I'jth. In the evening a call at Flaxman's. 
 Read to Mrs. Flaxman a part of Schlegel's " Critique 
 on the Designs for Dante," which of course gratified her. 
 She told me they were done in Italy for Mr. Hope, on 
 very moderate terms, merely to give Flaxman employ- 
 ment for the evening. Fuseli, when he saw them, said, 
 " I used to think myself the best composer, but now I 
 own Flaxman to be the greater man." Some years 
 ago, when I met Flaxman at Mrs. Iremonger's, I men- 
 tioned Schlegel's praise of him for his preference of 
 Dante to Milton. It was, said Schlegel, a proof that he 
 surpassed his countrymen in taste. Flaxman said he 
 could not accept the compliment on the ground of 
 preference. He thought Milton the very greatest of 
 poets, and he could not forgive Charles James Fox for 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Charles 
 Lamb on 
 Words- 
 worth and 
 Coleridge. 
 
 Flaxman.
 
 320 
 
 Covent Garden Theatre. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 List on. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on Shake- 
 speare's 
 Fools. 
 
 not liking him. He had three reasons for choosing 
 Dante. First, he was unwilling to interfere with Fuseli, 
 who had made choice of Milton for his designs. 
 Second, Milton supplies few figures, while Dante 
 abounds in them. And, third, he had heard that 
 Michael Angelo had made a number of designs in the 
 margin of a copy of Dante. 
 
 Mrs. Flaxman said, this evening, that the common 
 cloak of the lower classes in Italy suggested the drapery 
 for Virgil and Dante. While we were talking on this 
 subject Flaxman came in. He spoke with great 
 modesty of his designs ; he could do better now, and 
 wished the Germans had something better on which to 
 exercise their critical talents. 
 
 January \tyh. With Collier, &c., at Covent Garden. 
 " Twelfth Night " Listen's Malvolio excellent. I never 
 saw him to greater advantage. It is a character in all 
 respects adapted to him. His inimitable gravity till 
 he receives the letter, and his incomparable smiles in 
 the cross-gartered scene, are the perfection of nature 
 and art united. 
 
 January 2tyh. I walked with Coleridge to Rickman's, 
 where we dined. He talked on Shakespeare, particu- 
 larly his Fools. These he regarded as supplying 
 the place of the ancient chorus. The ancient drama, 
 he observed, is distinguished from the Shakespearian 
 in this, that it exhibits a sort of abstraction, not of 
 character, but of idea. A certain sentiment or passion 
 was exhibited in all its purity, unmixed with anything 
 that could interfere with its effect. Shakespeare, on 
 the other hand, imitates life, mingled as we find it
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 321 
 
 with joy and sorrow. We meet constantly in life with 
 persons who are, as it were, unfeeling spectators of 
 the most passionate situations. The Fool serves to 
 supply the place of some such uninterested person, 
 where all the other characters are interested. The 
 most genuine and real of Shakespeare's Fools is in 
 " Lear." In " Hamlet " the fool is, as it were, divided 
 into several parts, dispersed through the play. 
 
 On our walk back Coleridge spoke warmly and elo- 
 quently on the effect of laws in the formation of moral 
 character and feeling in a people. He differed from 
 Bentham's censure of the laws of usury, Coleridge 
 contending that those laws, by exciting a general 
 contempt towards usurers, had a deterring effect on 
 many. Genoa fell by becoming a people of money- 
 lenders instead of merchants. In money loans one 
 party is in sorrow ; in the traffic of merchandise, both 
 parties gain and rejoice. This led to talk on the 
 nature of criminal law in general. Some acts, viz. 
 murder, rape, unnatural offences, are to be punished 
 for the sake of the effect on the public mind, that a 
 just sentiment may be taught, and not merely for the 
 sake of prevention. The acts ought in themselves to be 
 punished. He dwelt on the influence of law in forming 
 the public mind, and giving direction to moral feeling. 
 
 February \st. A visit to a most accomplished lady 
 of the old school, Mrs. Buller.* The poems of Southey 
 and Scott she has put into her Index Expurgatorius. 
 She cannot bear the irregularity of their versification. 
 Mr. Jerningham was present, and she called him to 
 
 * See page 386. 
 VOL. I. Y 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on Law. 
 
 Mrs. 
 Duller.
 
 322 
 
 Royal Academy. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Flaxman ' s 
 Lecture on 
 Sculpture. 
 
 Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld. 
 
 his face " the last of the old school." He is already 
 forgotten, more completely than those will be whom his 
 friend and contemporary treated so contemptuously. 
 
 February iSf/i. At the Royal Academy. Heard 
 Flaxman's introductory Lecture on Sculpture. It was 
 for the most part, or entirely, historical. He endea- 
 voured to show that in all times English sculptors 
 have excelled when not prevented by extraneous 
 circumstances. This gave great pleasure to a British 
 audience. In one or two instances the lecture was 
 applauded in a way that he would be ashamed of. 
 He spoke of some cathedral sculpture of the time of 
 Henry VIII., and contrasting the remains of different 
 artists, said, " Here, too, we find that the British artists 
 were superior to their rivals on the continent." This 
 was received with loud clapping. The John-Bullism 
 displayed was truly ridiculous. Flaxman, however, 
 pleased me in every respect in which I had a right to 
 be pleased. He spoke like an artist who loved and 
 honoured his art, but without any personal feeling. 
 He had all the unpretending simplicity of a truly 
 great man. His unimposing figure received conse- 
 quence from the animation of his countenance ; and 
 his voice, though feeble, was so judiciously managed 
 and so clear, and his enunciation was so distinct, that 
 he was audible to a large number of people. 
 
 March 12th. Tea and chess with Mrs. Barbauld. 
 Read on my way to her house Chapters VIII. to XIV. 
 of Southey's " Madoc." Exceedingly pleased with the 
 touching painting in this poem. It has not the splendid 
 glare of "Kehama," but there is a uniform glow of
 
 Coleridge. Hazlitt. 
 
 323 
 
 pure and beautiful morality and interesting description, 
 which renders the work very pleasing. Surely none but 
 a pedant can affect or be seduced to think slightingly 
 of this. poem. At all events, the sensibility which feels 
 such beauties is more desirable than the acuteness which 
 could suggest severe criticism. 
 
 March \^th. A talk with Coleridge, who called on me. 
 Speaking of Southey, he said S. was not able to appre- 
 ciate Spanish poetry. He wanted modifying power : he 
 was a jewel-setter whatever he found to his taste, he 
 formed it into, or made it into, the ornament of a story. 
 
 March 2^th. A call on Coleridge, who expatiated 
 beautifully on the beneficial influence of brotherly and 
 sisterly love in the formation of character. He attri- 
 buted, he said, certain peculiarities in persons whom he 
 named to the circumstance that they had no brother.* 
 
 March 29^. Spent the evening with W. Hazlitt. 
 Smith, his wife and son, Hume, Coleridge, and after- 
 wards Lamb there. Coleridge philosophized as usual. 
 He said that all systems of philosophy might be reduced 
 to two, the dynamical and the mechanical ; the one 
 converting all quantity into quality, the other vice versa. 
 He and Hazlitt joined in an obscure statement about 
 abstract ideas. Hazlitt said he had learnt from painting 
 that it is difficult to form an idea of an individual 
 object, that we first have only a general idea ; that is, 
 a vague, broken, imperfect recollection of the individual 
 object. This I observed was what the multitude meant 
 by a general idea, and Hazlitt said he had no other. 
 
 * On some other occasion I recollect his saying that he envied Wordsworth 
 for having had a sister, and that his own character had suffered from the want 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 Coleridge 
 
 and 
 Hazlitt. 
 
 of a sister. H. C. R. 
 
 Y 2
 
 324 
 
 An Evening- with W. Hazlitt. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 
 The Edin- 
 burgh 
 Review. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 Coleridge spoke of the impossibility of referring the 
 individual to the class without having a previous notion 
 of the class. This is Kantian logic. 
 
 We talked of politics. It was amusing to observe 
 how Coleridge blundered against Scotchmen and 
 Frenchmen. He represented the Edinburgh Review as 
 a concentration of all the smartness of all Scotland. 
 Edinburgh is a talking town, and whenever, in the 
 Conversaziones, a single spark is elicited, it is instantly 
 caught, preserved, and brought to the Review. He 
 denied humour to the nation. Smith appealed in 
 behalf of Smollett. Coleridge endeavoured to make a 
 distinction, i.e. to maintain his point, and yet allow the 
 claim of Smith. 
 
 Before Lamb came, Coleridge had spoken with 
 warmth of his excellent and serious conversation. 
 Hazlitt imputed his puns to humility. 
 
 March y>th. At C. Lamb's. Found Coleridge and 
 Hazlitt there, and had a half-hour's chat. Coleridge 
 spoke feelingly of Godwin and the unjust treatment he 
 had met with. In apology for Southey's review of 
 Godwin's " Life of Chaucer," Coleridge ingeniously 
 observed that persons who are themselves very pure, 
 are sometimes on that account blunt in their moral 
 feelings. This I believe to be a very true remark in- 
 deed. Something like this I have expressed respecting 
 . She is perfectly just herself, and expects every- 
 body to be equally so. She is consequently severe, and 
 occasionally even harsh in her judgments. 
 
 " For right too rigid hardens into wrong." 
 
 Coleridge used strong language against those who
 
 Coleridge on Godwin. 
 
 325 
 
 were once the extravagant admirers of Godwin, and 
 afterwards became his most bitter opponents. I noticed 
 the infinite superiority of Godwin over the French writers 
 in moral feeling and tendency. I had learned to hate 
 Helvetius and Mirabeau, and yet retained my love for 
 Godwin. This was agreed to as a just sentiment. 
 Coleridge said there was more in Godwin, after all, than 
 he was once willing to admit, though not so much 
 as his enthusiastic admirers fancied. He had openly 
 opposed him, but nevertheless visited him. Southey's 
 severity he attributed to the habit of reviewing. 
 Southey had said of Coleridge's poetry that he was a 
 Dutch imitator of the Germans. Coleridge quoted 
 this, not to express any displeasure at it, but to show 
 in what way Southey could speak of him. 
 
 Went with C. Lamb to the Lyceum. " The Siege 
 of Belgrade " afforded me considerable amusement. 
 The comic scenes are droll, though commonplace 
 enough, and Miss Kelly and Mathews gave due 
 effect to them. But Braham's singing delighted me. 
 His trills, shakes, and quavers are, like those of all 
 other great singers, tiresome to me ; but his pure 
 melody, the simple song clearly articulated, is equal 
 to anything I ever heard. His song was acted as well 
 as sung delightfully. Indeed I think Braham a fine 
 actor while singing ; he throws his soul into his throat, 
 but his whole frame is awakened, and his gestures and 
 looks are equally impassioned. 
 
 When Dignum and Mrs. Bland came on the stage 
 together, Charles Lamb exclaimed, 
 
 " And lo, two puddings smoked upon the board ! " 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Godwin, 
 
 Southey. 
 
 Braham. 
 
 C. Lamb;
 
 326 
 
 Opera House. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 
 De Foe's 
 Colonel 
 Jack. 
 
 Mrs. Sid- 
 dons as 
 Margaret 
 of Anjou. 
 
 Elliston. 
 
 Draham. 
 
 April 2nd. A walk to Clapton, reading " Colonel 
 Jack," the latter half of which is but dull and common- 
 place. The moment he ceases to be a thief, he loses 
 everything interesting. Yet there runs through the 
 work a spirit of humanity which does honour to De Foe. 
 He powerfully pleaded for a humane treatment of the 
 slaves in America, at a time when no man thought of 
 abolishing slavery itself. 
 
 April 4th. At Pope's benefit, at the Opera House. 
 " The Earl of Warwick." Mrs. Siddons most nobly 
 played her part as Margaret of Anjou. The character 
 is one to which she can still render justice. She looked 
 ill, and I thought her articulation indistinct, and her 
 voice drawling and funereal during the first act ; but 
 as she advanced in the play, her genius triumphed over 
 natural impediments. She was all that could be wished. 
 The scene in which she wrought upon the mind of 
 Warwick was perfect. And in the last act, her 
 triumphant joy at the entrance of Warwick, whom 
 she had stabbed, was incomparable. She laughed 
 convulsively, and staggered off the stage as if 
 drunk with delight ; and in every limb showed 
 the tumult of passion with an accuracy and a force 
 equally impressive to the critic and the man of 
 feeling. 
 
 Her advancing age is a real pain to me. As an actor, 
 she has left with me the conviction that there never was, 
 and never will be, her equal. 
 
 Elliston played Edward. He is a fine bustling come- 
 dian ; but he bustles also in tragedy. 
 
 Braham sang delightfully " Said a Smile to a Tear."
 
 Home Tooke. Flaxman. 
 
 327 
 
 He is incomparably the most delightful male singer 
 I ever heard. 
 
 Listen, in the " Waterman," gave a burlesque song 
 with admirable humour. I believe he will soon be 
 acknowledged to be our first comedian. He raises 
 more universal laughs than any one, excepting perhaps 
 Mathews, who is only a first-rate mimic. Listen bur- 
 lesqued Braham, and there arose a contest between the 
 lovers of burlesque and the jealous admirers of exquisite 
 music ; but the reasonable party prevailed, and Listen's 
 encored song was received with great applause, though 
 the burlesque was not less apparent than before. 
 
 Incledon sang " The Storm." It was said to be fine. 
 Mathews sang his " Mail Coach " a most excellent 
 thing in its way. 
 
 I have seldom had so much pleasure at the theatre. 
 
 April 2%th. Anthony Robinson related an anecdote 
 of Home Tooke, showing the good humour and com- 
 posure of which he was capable. Holcroft was with 
 him at a third person's table. They had a violent 
 quarrel. At length Holcroft said, as he rose to leave 
 
 the room, " Mr. Tooke, I tell you, you are a 
 
 scoundrel, and I always thought you so." Tooke 
 detained him, and said, " Mr. Holcroft, some time ago 
 you asked me to come and dine with you ; do tell 
 me what day it shall be." Holcroft stayed. 
 
 May Jth. In the afternoon a pleasant chat with 
 Flaxman alone. He spoke of artists and art with his 
 unaffected modesty and kindness. I asked him why 
 the Germans, who appreciated him, would not acknow- 
 ledge the merit of our painters, even Reynolds. " My 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 Listen. 
 
 Incledon. 
 Mathews. 
 
 Home 
 Tooke. 
 
 Flaxman.
 
 3 28 
 
 Peter Pindar. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 At Thel- 
 wall's. 
 
 Dr. Wol- 
 cott. 
 
 art," Flaxman answered, "led me to make use of 
 classical fable, of which the Germans are fond. Rey- 
 nolds was only a gentlemanly scholar." Sir Joshua judged 
 ill of sculpture ; on that subject he wrote not so well as 
 Rafael Mengs, of whom Flaxman spoke slightingly, just 
 as I recollect hearing Fernow at Jena speak. 
 
 May <)th. Dined with Thelwall. A large party. 
 The man whom we went to see, and, if we could, 
 admire, was Dr. Wolcott, better known as Peter Pindar. 
 He talked about the artists, said that West could paint 
 neither ideal beauty nor from nature, called Opie the 
 Michael Angelo of old age, complained of the in- 
 gratitude of certain artists who owed everything to 
 himself, spoke contemptuously of Walter Scott, who, he 
 said, owed his popularity to hard names. He also de- 
 claimed against rhyme in general, which he said was fit 
 only for burlesque. Not even Butler would live. At 
 the same time he praised exceedingly the " Heroic 
 Epistle to Sir W. Chambers." Congreve he considered 
 the greatest miracle of genius, and that such a man 
 should early abandon literature was to him unaccount- 
 able. As Peter Pindar was blind, I was requested to 
 help him to his wine, which was in a separate pint 
 bottle, and was not wine at all, but brandy.* After 
 dinner he eulogized brandy, calling it TO nav, and said, 
 " He who drinks it heartily must make interest to die." 
 
 He said he had made a rhyme that morning, of which 
 Butler might not have been ashamed : 
 
 Say, would you long the shafts of death defy, 
 Pray keep your inside wet, your outside dry. 
 
 * In telling this story Mr. Robinson would humorously relate how, by 
 pouring some into a second glass, he contrived to ascertain the fact for himself.
 
 Debating Society. 
 
 329 
 
 I referred to his own writings. He said he recollected 
 them with no pleasure. " Satire is a bad trade." 
 
 May 1 5 th. A very pleasant call on Charles and Mary 
 Lamb. Read his version of the story of Prince Dorus, 
 the long-nosed king.* Gossipped about writing. Urged 
 him to try his hand at a metrical Umarbeitung (working 
 up) of " Reynard the Fox." He believed, he said, in the 
 excellence of the work, but he was sure such a version 
 as I suggested would not succeed now. The sense of 
 humour, he maintained, is utterly extinct. No satire 
 that is not personal will succeed. ^ 
 
 2^th. Devoted the day to a speech to be delivered 
 at the Academical Society.^ The question, "Which 
 among the Arts of Oratory, History, and Poetry is 
 most capable of being rendered serviceable to Man- 
 kind ? " I spoke for somewhat more than an hour. 
 
 The three arts are alike liberal arts, since they are 
 carried on with knowledge and freedom, and not 
 slavishly. They constitute the great body of elegant 
 learning Humanity. 
 
 Oratory is the art of persuasion as opposed to logic 
 the art of reasoning. It is mischievous by withdrawing 
 attention from the substance to the show, from the 
 matter of discourse to its ornaments. I. Deliberative or 
 senatorial eloquence. The evil of accustoming a people 
 
 * This is not in his collected works, and, as well as two volumes of Poems 
 for Children, is likely to be lost. H. C. R. 
 
 t An English version of " Reineke der Fuchs " was afterwards prepared by 
 Samuel Naylor, Junr., and dedicated to his friend H. C. R. Published by 
 Longman, 1844. 
 
 J As Mr. Robinson was a frequent attendant and speaker at Debating 
 Societies, the notes of his speech on one of these occasions are given as a 
 specimen. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 iSir. 
 
 At C. 
 
 Lamb' f. 
 
 Speech at 
 the Acade- 
 mical 
 Society. 
 
 Oratory.
 
 330 
 
 Debating Society. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 to the stimulus of eloquence. This I illustrated by the 
 French Revolution. For some years the people were 
 kept in a frenzy by the orators. The result was not the 
 acquirement of any habits favourable either to knowledge 
 or liberty. The mind was left as barren and as unsus- 
 ceptible of good influence as the earth from which the salt 
 sea has receded. In the English Senate, Burke was not 
 listened to. Fox has left no memorial of any good he 
 has wrought by eloquence ; his Libel Bill being the 
 only good law he ever introduced. Neither the Habeas 
 Corpus Act, nor the Bill of Rights, nor Magna Charta 
 originated in eloquence. A senate of orators is a 
 symptom of national decay. II. Judicial eloquence. I 
 expatiated on the glorious spectacle of an English 
 court of justice, and affirmed that its dignity would be 
 lost if the people went into it as into a theatre, to 
 admire the graces of the orators. But, in fact, there is 
 little eloquence at present at the English Bar. Erskine 
 the only prominent man in our time. I contrasted the 
 state of popular feeling in Greece and Britain. I 
 noticed the assertion of Demosthenes, that action is the 
 first, second, and third part of an orator, and the fact 
 that he was taught to speak by an actor. I admitted, 
 however, that eloquence might occasionally be useful 
 (though its resources were at the service alike of the tyrant 
 and the free man, the oppressor and the oppressed), but it 
 is only a sort of convulsive effect that can be produced. 
 The storm which drives from a populous city the pesti- 
 lential vapour hanging over it may accidentally save it 
 for once from the plague ; but it is the sun, which rises 
 day by day, and the dew, which falls night by night, that
 
 Notes of a Speech, 
 
 331 
 
 give fertility to the valleys, though the silent operation 
 of these causes does not so forcibly strike the senses. 
 
 History, I observed, could instruct only by enabling 
 us to anticipate future events from the past. But this 
 it cannot do. The great events of political life are too 
 unique to admit of a parallel. The Crusades, Refor- 
 mation, &c. The emancipation of Switzerland, Holland, 
 Portugal, Sweden, each took place on grounds of its 
 own ; and no inference could be drawn from one to 
 another. No Irishman, for instance, wishing to deliver 
 his country from English rule could draw an argument 
 from the success of any other rebellion. The great out- 
 line of historical occurrences is beyond the sphere of 
 human agency ; it belongs to the economy of Divine 
 Providence, and is illustrated in the gradual civilization 
 of mankind. All the rest is pure uncertainty. Horace 
 Walpole's historical doubts. Character of the Queen of 
 Scots. The death of Charles XII. of Sweden. 
 
 History may be thought to improve the affections. 
 This is so far from being true, that history shows the 
 triumph of fraud, violence, and guilt ; and if there were 
 no resource elsewhere, the mind, by mere history, would 
 be driven to despair. 
 
 [I omitted to show how little private persons can be 
 improved by that which treats merely of public events, 
 and also that statesmen have been guided by sagacity 
 in the just comprehension of the actual state of things, 
 and that learned men have seldom had any marked 
 influence in public affairs.] 
 
 Poetry I described as having its origin in a principle 
 of our nature, by which we are enabled to conceive of 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 History, 
 
 Poetry.
 
 332 
 
 Notes of a Speech. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Robert 
 Hall. 
 
 things as better than any actually known. The mind is 
 cheered by its own images of excellence, and is thus 
 enabled to bear up against the evils of life. Besides, 
 we are more instructed by poetic than historic truth ; 
 for the one is but a series of insignificant accidents, 
 while the other contains the essential truth of things. 
 Homer's Achilles is a fine picture of a warrior whose 
 breast is full of all the irascible, and yet all the affec- 
 tionate, feelings. The baseness of a grovelling ambition 
 of regal dominion is better exemplified in Shakespeare's 
 " Richard III.," the tremendous consequence of yielding 
 to the suggestions of evil in " Macbeth," the necessity 
 of having the sensible and reflective qualities balanced 
 by active energy in " Hamlet," the nature of jealousy 
 in " Othello," than in any mere historic narratives. 
 
 What can the historian do ? He can give us plausible 
 speculations. What the orator ? Stir our feelings, but 
 for a time only. Whereas the poet enriches our imagi- 
 nations with images of every virtue. 
 
 I was followed by Twiss, Dumoulin, and Temple. At 
 the close of the discussion, the few persons who had 
 remained held up their hands, five for history, and one 
 each for poetry and eloquence. 
 
 May 26th. As Robert Hall was to preach in the 
 Borough, I went to hear him. The discourse was cer- 
 tainly a very beautiful one. He began by a florid 
 but eloquent and impressive description of John the 
 Baptist, and deduced from his history, not with the 
 severity of argument which a logician requires, but 
 with a facility of illustration which oratory delights 
 in, and which was perfectly allowable, the practical
 
 Coleridge on R. A. Exhibition. 
 
 333 
 
 importance of discharging the duty which belongs to 
 our actual condition. 
 
 June 6th. Met Coleridge at the Exhibition. He 
 drew my attention to the "vigorous impotence" of 
 Fuseli, especially in his " Macbeth."* "The prominent 
 witch," said Coleridge, " is smelling a stink." He spoke 
 of painting as one of the lost arts. 
 
 June \\th. Called on Coleridge. He made some 
 striking observations on the character of an excellent 
 man. "I have long," he said, "considered him an 
 abstraction, rather than a person to be beloved. He 
 is incapable of loving any excepting those whom he 
 has benefited. He has been so in the habit of being 
 useful, that he seems to lose his interest in those to 
 whom he can be of no further use." 
 
 June 1 3///. After tea a call on C. Lamb. His brother 
 with him. A chat on puns. Evanson, in his " Disso- 
 nance of the Gospels," thinks Luke most worthy of cre- 
 dence. P said that Evanson was a lukewarm Chris- 
 tian. I related this to C. Lamb. But, to him, a mere 
 play of words was nothing without a spice of the 
 ridiculous. He was reading with a friend a book of 
 Eastern travels, and the friend observed of the 
 Mantschu Tartars, that they must be cannibals. This 
 Lamb thought better. The large room in the account- 
 ant's office at the East India House is divided into 
 boxes or compartments, in each of which sit six 
 clerks, Charles Lamb himself in one. They are 
 called Compounds. The meaning of the word was 
 
 * No. 12 of the Royal Academy Catalogue, where it is entered "Macbeth 
 consulting the Vision of the Armed Head." SHAKESPEARE. Macbeth. Act 
 iv., scene r. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 Coleridge. 
 
 Lamb on 
 Puns.
 
 334 
 
 Dinner at Serjeant RougJis. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 Abington. 
 
 asked one day, and Lamb said it was " a collection of 
 simples." 
 
 June i6//z. Dined at Serjeant Rough's, and met the 
 once celebrated Mrs. Abington.* From her present 
 appearance one can hardly suppose she could ever have 
 been otherwise than plain. She herself laughed at her 
 snub nose. But she is erect, has a large blue expressive 
 eye, and an agreeable voice. She spoke of her retire- 
 ment from the stage as occasioned by the vexations of 
 a theatrical life. She said she should have gone mad if 
 she had not quitted her profession. She has lost all her 
 professional feelings, and when she goes to the theatre 
 can laugh and cry like a child ; but the trouble is too 
 great, and she does not often go. It is so much a thing 
 of course that a retired actor should be a laudator 
 temporis acti, that I felt unwilling to draw from her any 
 opinion of her successors. Mrs. Siddons, however, she 
 praised, though not with the warmth of a genuine 
 admirer. She said, " Early in life Mrs. Siddons was 
 anxious to succeed in comedy, and played Rosalind 
 before I retired." In speaking of the modern de- 
 clamation, and the too elaborate emphasis given to 
 insignificant words, she said, " That was brought 
 in by them" (the Kembles). She spoke with admi- 
 ration of the Covent Garden horses, and I have no 
 doubt that her praise was meant to have the effect of 
 satire. Of all the present actors, Murray most resembles 
 Garrick. She spoke of Barry with great warmth. He 
 was a nightingale. Such a voice was never heard. He 
 
 * Mrs. Abington first appeared at the Haymarket as Miranda, in the 
 "Busy Body." Her last public appearance was April i2th, 1799. She died in 
 her house in Pall Mall, March 1815.
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Flaxman. 
 
 335 
 
 confined himself to characters of great tenderness and 
 'sweetness, such as Romeo. She admitted the infinite 
 superiority of Garrick in genius. His excellence lay in 
 the bursts and quick transitions of passion, and in the 
 variety and universality of his genius. Mrs. Abington 
 would not have led me to suppose she had been on the 
 stage by either her manner, or the substance of her 
 conversation. She speaks with the ease of a person 
 used to good society, rather than with the assurance of 
 one whose business it was to imitate that ease. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Flaxman called in the evening. An 
 argumentative conversation, which is not Flaxman's 
 forte. He is delightful in the great purity of his moral 
 sense, and the consequent delicacy of his taste on all 
 subjects of ethics : but his understanding is not cast in 
 a logical mould ; and when he has a fixed idea, there 
 is no possibility of changing it. He said Linnaeus had 
 made a great blunder in classing the whale with man, 
 merely because it belongs to the mammalia. And it 
 was impossible to make him acknowledge, or apparently 
 to comprehend, the difference between an artificial and 
 a natural classification. As a proof that Hume wished 
 to apologize for Charles II., he quoted the sentence, 
 " Charles was a polite husband and a generous lover ;" 
 and he did not perceive that this was a mere statement 
 of fact, and by no means implied a wish to defend or 
 vindicate. Hume could not have imagined that politeness 
 is the appropriate virtue of a husband, or that the pro- 
 fusion of a king towards his mistresses is laudable. 
 But it is not necessary, even for the purposes of 
 edification, to ring the changes of moral censure. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Flaxman.
 
 336 
 
 William and Jacob Pattisson. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 
 Sir T. 
 
 Lawence. 
 
 William 
 and Jacob 
 Pattisson. 
 
 June i8t/i. Accompanied Mrs. Pattisson and her , 
 son William to Lawrence the painter. On entering the* 
 room, he fixed his eyes on William with evident admira- 
 tion, not noticing the mother, who had been handsome. 
 On my asking him whether he could find time to paint 
 the boy he said in a half-whisper, " To be sure, he must 
 be painted." The picture was to include his brother 
 Jacob. It was arranged that the two boys should wait 
 on Mr. Lawrence on Wednesday, the 26th inst. 
 
 I may here mention an occurrence which took place in 
 1809, while I was at Witham on a visit to the Pattissons. 
 There was a grand jubilee to celebrate the termination 
 of the fiftieth year of the reign of George III. At 
 morning prayers, William, aged eight, said, "Mamma, 
 ought I not to pray for the King ? " " To be sure, if 
 you feel the desire." On which he folded his hands, and 
 said, " O God, grant that the King may continue to 
 reign with justice and victory." The words were 
 scarcely out of his mouth, when Jacob, then six years 
 and a half, said " Mayn't I pray too ? " The mother 
 could not refuse. " O God, be so good as to let the 
 King live another fifty years." 
 
 June 2ist. A pleasant party at Collier's. Lamb in 
 high spirits. One pun from him at least successful. 
 Punsters being abused, and the old joke repeated that he 
 who puns will pick a pocket, some one said, " Punsters 
 themselves have no pockets."- " No," said Lamb, " they 
 carry only a ridicule." 
 
 June 26th. Went with the Pattissons to Lawrence's. 
 He consented to paint the two boys for 160 guineas. 
 They had their first sitting to-day. I took an oppor-
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 337 
 
 tunity of telling him an anecdote respecting himself, 
 which did not seem to displease him, though eminent 
 men are in many instances well pleased to forget the 
 day of little things. His father was the master of the 
 Bear Inn at Devizes, and he himself was for a short time 
 at Mr. Fenner's school. Some time between 1786 and 
 1789 a stranger, calling at Mr. Fenner's, remarked, 
 " They say, Mr. Fenner, that your old pupil, Tommy 
 Lawrence, is turning out a very pretty painter." 
 
 July <)th. Evening at Lady Broughton's. W. Malt- 
 by, in our walk home, related an anecdote which he 
 himself had from the Bishop of Llandaff. The Bishop 
 was standing in the House of Lords, in company with 
 Lords Thurlow and Loughborough, when Lord South- 
 ampton accosted him : " I want your advice, my Lord ; 
 how am I to bring up my son so as to make him get 
 forwards in the world ?" " I know of but one way," 
 replied the Bishop ; " give him parts and poverty." 
 " Well, then," replied Lord S., " if God has given him 
 parts, I will manage as to the poverty." 
 
 July nth. Called on Mrs. Barbauld, Mr. and Miss 
 Belsham, and Mr. and Mrs. Tooke, Senr. Tooke told a 
 good story. Lord Bolingbroke dined one day with 
 Bishop Burnet. There was a sumptuous entertain- 
 ment, and Lord Bolingbroke asked the Bishop whether 
 the Apostles fared so well. " Oh no, my lord." " And 
 how do you account for the difference between the 
 clergy of the present day and those of the primitive 
 church?" "It is so," replied Burnet, "on all oc- 
 casions ; we always see that inventors and speculators 
 are ruined, while others reap the gain." But surely 
 VOL. I. Z 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 i8rr. 
 
 Anecdote of 
 Bishop of 
 Llandaff 
 and Lord 
 
 Southamp- 
 ton. 
 
 Anecdote of 
 
 Bishop 
 Burnet and 
 
 Lord 
 Boling- 
 broke.
 
 338 
 
 Coleridge and Sou they. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Southey on 
 Blake. 
 
 The play of 
 
 the 
 
 Quadru- 
 peds. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 the repartee is applied to the wrong person. Burnet 
 would not have so compromised himself to Boling- 
 broke. 
 
 July 2^th. Late at C. Lamb's. Found a large 
 party there. Southey had been with Blake, and 
 admired both his designs and his poetic talents. At 
 the same time he held him to be a decided madman. 
 Blake, he said, spoke of his visions with the diffidence 
 which is usual with such people, and did not seem to 
 expect that he should be believed. He showed Southey 
 a perfectly mad poem, called " Jerusalem." Oxford 
 Street is in Jerusalem. 
 
 July 26th. At the Lyceum Theatre with Amyot. 
 "The Quadrupeds," otherwise the Tailors, revived 
 under a new name. The prelude represents a poor 
 manager in distress. He is assailed by a bailiff, and, 
 leading him to a trap-door, forces him down. Sheridan 
 looked on, and clapped. The burlesque scene be- 
 tween the master-tailor (Lovegrove) and his wife 
 (Miss Kelly), who is alarmed by a dream, was excel- 
 lent. 
 
 July 2%th. After dinner walked to Morgan's, beyond 
 Kensington, to see Coleridge, and found Southey there. 
 Coleridge, talking of German poetry, represented Klop- 
 stock as compounded of everything bad in Young, 
 Harvey, and Richardson. He praised warmly an 
 essay on Hogarth by C. Lamb, and spoke of wronger? 
 of subjects as well as writers on them. He was in 
 spirits, and was apparently pleased with a letter I 
 brought him from Mrs. Clarkson. 
 
 Coleridge and Southey spoke of Thelwall, calling
 
 On Spanish Affairs. 
 
 339 
 
 him merely " John." Southey said, " He is a good- 
 hearted man ; besides, we ought never to forget that 
 he was once as near as possible being hanged, and 
 there is some merit in that." 
 
 Enjoyed exceedingly my walk back with Southey. 
 Speaking of forms of government, he said, there is no 
 doubt a republic is the best form of government in 
 itself as a sun-dial is in itself the most certain and 
 perfect instrument for ascertaining the hour. And if 
 the sun shone always, men would never have been at the 
 trouble of making clocks. But, as it is, these instru- 
 ments are in most frequent use. If mankind were 
 illuminated by the pure sun of reason, they would dis- 
 pense with complicated forms of government. He 
 talked largely about Spain. A Jacobin revolution 
 must purify the country before any good can be done. 
 Catholicism is absolutely incompatible with great im- 
 provements. In the Cortes, he says, nine-tenths of the 
 members are bigoted papists, and one-tenth Jacobin 
 atheists. Barcelona might have been purchased, had 
 our Government been on the alert. Southey spoke 
 highly of Blanco White. 
 
 July 2C)th. Read four books of "Thalaba," and one 
 book of the " Castle of Indolence." Thomson's poem 
 most delightful. Surely, in \hefinish of such a work, 
 there is a charm which surpasses the effect produced 
 by the fitful and irregular beauties of a work like 
 Southey's. 
 
 August yd. Bathed for the first time in Peerless 
 Pool, originally perilous pool ; but it deserves neither 
 title. In the evening at Charles Lamb's. He was 
 
 Z 2 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Southey. 
 
 Thalaba 
 and Castle 
 of Indo- 
 lence.
 
 340 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 C. Lamb on 
 Coleridge. 
 
 The 
 Courier. 
 
 The 
 Times. 
 
 serious, and therefore very interesting. I accidentally 
 made use of the expression "poor Coleridge!" Lamb 
 corrected me, not angrily, but as if really pained. "He 
 is," he said, " a fine fellow, in spite of all his faults and 
 weaknesses. Call him Coleridge; I hate/wr, as applied 
 to such a man. I can't bear to hear such a man pitied." 
 He then quoted an expression to the same effect by 
 (I think) Ben Jonson of Bacon. 
 
 Reminiscences* I frequently saw Coleridge about this 
 time, and was made privy to an incident which need no 
 longer be kept a secret. Coleridge was then a con- 
 tributor to the Courier, and wrote an article on the 
 Duke of York, which was printed on Friday, the 5th of 
 July. But the Government got scent of it, and there- 
 fore, by the interference of Mr. Arbuthnot of the 
 Treasury, after about 2,000 copies had been printed, it 
 was suppressed. This offended Coleridge, who would 
 gladly have transferred his services to the Times. I 
 spoke about him to Walter, but Fraser was then firmly 
 established, and no other hand was required for the 
 highest department. I have found a paper in Cole- 
 ridge's hand in reference to this affair. It states what 
 service he was willing to render, such as attending six 
 hours a day, and writing so many articles per week. 
 One paragraph only has any significance, because it 
 shows the state of his mind : " The above, always 
 supposing the paper to be truly independent, first, of 
 the Administration, secondly, of Palace Yard, and that 
 its fundamental principle is, the due proportion of 
 political power to property, joined with the removal 
 
 * Written in 1849.
 
 At C. Lamb's. 
 
 of all obstacles to the free circulation and trans- 
 fer of property, and all artificial facilitations of its 
 natural tendency to accumulate in large and growing 
 masses." 
 
 August St/i. At C. Lamb's. Coleridge there. A 
 short but interesting conversation on German meta- 
 physics. He related some curious anecdotes of his 
 son Hartley, whom he represented as a most remark- 
 able child. A deep thinker in his infancy one who 
 tormented himself in his attempts to solve the pro- 
 blems which would equally torment the full-grown 
 man, if the world and its cares and its pleasures did 
 not abstract his attention. When about five years old, 
 Hartley was asked a question concerning himself by 
 some one who called him " Hartley." " Which Hart- 
 ley?" asked the boy. "Why, is there more than one 
 Hartley ?" " Yes, there's a deal of Hartleys."" How 
 so?" "There's Picture Hartley (Hazlitt had painted 
 a portrait of him), and Shadow Hartley, and there's 
 Echo Hartley, and there's Catch-me-fast Hartley," 
 at the same time seizing his own arm with the other 
 hand very eagerly, an action which shows that his 
 mind must have been led to reflect on what Kant 
 calls the great and inexplicable mystery that man 
 should be both his own subject and object, and that 
 these should yet be one. "At the same early age," 
 said Coleridge, " he used to be in an agony of thought 
 about the reality 6t existence. Some one said to him, 
 ' It is not now, but it is to be.' ' But,' said he, ' if it is 
 to be, it is.' Perhaps this confusion of thought lay not 
 merely in the imperfection of language. Hartley, when 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 At C. 
 Lamb's. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 
 anecdotes of 
 
 his son 
 
 Hartley.
 
 342 
 
 At Dr. Aikiris. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 At Dr. 
 Atkins. 
 
 Walter 
 
 Scott's 
 
 Minstrelsy. 
 
 a boy, had no pleasure in things; they made no 
 impression on him till they had undergone a sort 
 of process in his mind, and become thoughts or 
 feelings." With a few abatements for fatherly affec- 
 tion, I have no doubt Hartley is a remarkable child. 
 But of his subsequent progress Coleridge said 
 little. 
 
 August ijtk. Tea at Dr. Aikin's. Found the Dr., 
 Miss Aikin, &c., very agreeable. Indeed there has 
 seemed to me of late less to dislike in the political and 
 religious opinions of this circle than I thought formerly. 
 A successful game of chess with Miss Aikin, which I 
 proposed as a sort of ordeal to test whether I was right 
 in recommending " Benvenuto Cellini " for its interest 
 and beauty, or she in sending it home with disgust. 
 Early at home. Read Scott's note on Fairies in the 
 " Minstrelsy." A shallow and unsatisfactory essay. 
 The subject is so interesting, that nothing can be alto- 
 gether unattractive that treats of it. A work at once 
 critical and philosophical, on the popular superstitions 
 of mankind in different ages, would be most curious. 
 It would embrace a vast mass of important matter, 
 closely connected with philosophy and religion. Scott's 
 collection, vol. ii., contains much that is valuable and 
 beautiful. "Tamlane" is one of the best poems. It 
 has the levity and grace of a genuine fairy fiction, and 
 at the same time there is about it a tone of earnestness 
 which suits a legend of popular belief. In "Thomas 
 the Rhymer," the enigmatic lines which speak of our 
 national and distinctive character and glory, ought to 
 become popular :
 
 William and Jacob Pattisson. 
 
 343 
 
 1 ' The waters worship shall his race ; 
 
 Likewise the waves of the farthest sea ; 
 For they shall ride over ocean wide 
 With hempen bridles, and horse of tree." 
 
 August 2~$rd. A run up to Lawrence's. He has 
 made a most delightful picture of William and Jacob 
 Pattisson. The heads only are finished. William's is a 
 side-face very beautiful, but certainly not more so 
 than the original. Jacob is a smiling, open-faced boy, 
 with an admirably sweet expression. William has had 
 justice done him. More was not to be expected of any 
 mortal colours. Jacob has had more than justice done 
 him, but not in a way that can fairly be a matter of 
 reproach. If the artist has idealized somewhat, and 
 given an expression which is not on the boy's face every 
 day, still he has not given a grace or a charm which 
 lies not in his moral frame. He has no more said in 
 his picture the thing that is not, than the magnifying 
 glass, which never invents, or gives more or other 
 objects than there really are, but merely assists the 
 infirm optics of the beholder. William is painted with- 
 out any momentary expression, i.e. he does not appear, 
 like Jacob, to be under an immediate inspiring influence, 
 which occasions an arch smile not likely to be per- 
 manent even on the cheeks of Robin Goodfellow him- 
 self.* 
 
 October \^th. Journey to London. Incledon the 
 singer was in the coach, and I found him just the man 
 I should have expected. Seven rings on his fingers, 
 
 * After a long interval the picture was finished, and exhibited at the Royal 
 Academy in 1817, No. 44 of the Catalogue, as " Portraits of the Sons of W. 
 Pattisson, Esq. Sir T. Lawrence, R.A." It was subsequently engraved by 
 John Bromley, in mezzotint, under the title of " Rural Amusement." 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Sir T. Law- 
 rence s pic- 
 ture of the 
 Pattissons. 
 
 Incledon.
 
 344 
 
 Journey with Incledon. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 
 Anecdote o_f 
 Garrick. 
 
 five seals on his watch-ribbon, and a gold snuff-box, at 
 once betrayed the old beau. I spoke in terms of rap- 
 ture of Mrs. Siddons. He replied, "Ah! Sally's a fine 
 creature. She has a charming place on the Edgeware 
 Road. I dined with her last year, and she paid me one 
 of the finest compliments I ever received. I sang ' The 
 Storm ' after dinner. She cried and sobbed like a 
 child. Taking both of my hands, she said, 'All that I 
 and my brother ever did is nothing compared with the 
 effect you produce ! ' ' Incledon spoke with warmth 
 and apparent knowledge on church music, praising 
 Purcell especially, and mentioning Luther's simple 
 hymns. I was forced to confess that I had no ear for 
 music, and he, in order to try me, sang in a sort of 
 song-whisper some melodies which I certainly enjoyed, 
 more, I thought, than anything I had heard from him 
 on the stage. He related two anecdotes that had no 
 reference to himself. Garrick had a brother living in the 
 country, who was an idolatrous admirer of his genius. A 
 rich neighbour, a grocer, being about to visit London, 
 this brother insisted on his taking a letter of introduction 
 to the actor. Not being able to make up his mind to 
 visit the great man the first day, the grocer went to the 
 play in the evening, and saw Garrick in Abel Drugger. 
 On his return to the country, the brother eagerly in- 
 quired respecting the visit he had been so anxious to 
 bring about. "Why, Mr. Garrick," said the good man, 
 " I am sorry to hurt your feelings, but there's your 
 letter. I did not choose to deliver it." "Not deliver 
 it!" exclaimed the other, in astonishment. " I happened 
 to see him when he did not know me, and I saw that he
 
 Anecdote of Foote. 
 
 345 
 
 was such a dirty, low-lived fellow, that I did not like to 
 have anything to do with him." Foote went to Ireland, 
 
 and took off F , the celebrated Dublin printer. 
 
 F stood the jest for some time, but found at last 
 
 that Foote's imitations became so popular, and drew 
 such attention to himself, that he could not walk the 
 streets without being pointed at. He bethought him- 
 self of a remedy. Collecting a number of boys, he 
 gave them a hearty meal, and a shilling each for a place 
 in the gallery, and promised them another meal on the 
 morrow if they would hiss off the scoundrel who turned 
 him into ridicule. The injured man learnt from his 
 friends that Foote was received that night better than 
 ever. Nevertheless, in the morning, the ragged troop of 
 boys appeared to demand their recompense, and when 
 the printer reproached them for their treachery, their 
 spokesman said, " Plase yer honour, we did all we could, 
 for the actor-man had heard of us, and did not come at 
 all at all. And so we had nobody to hiss. But when 
 we saw yer honour's own dear self come on, we did 
 clap, indeed we did, and showed you all the respect and 
 honour in our power. And so yer honour won't forget 
 us because yer honour's enemy was afraid to come, and 
 left yer honour to yer own dear self. " 
 
 October 22nd. Called on Godwin. Curran, the Mas- 
 ter of the Rolls in Ireland, was with him. Curran told 
 an anecdote of an Irish Parliament-man who was boast- 
 ing in the House of Commons of his attachment to the 
 trial by jury. " Mr. Speaker, with the trial by jury I 
 have lived, and, by the blessing of God, with the 
 trial by jury will I die!" Curran sat near him, and 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Anecdote of 
 Foote. 
 
 Curran.
 
 346 
 
 A Materialist Dancing-Master. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Bishop of 
 Norwich. 
 
 Anecdote of 
 a dancing- 
 master. 
 
 whispered audibly, " What, Jack, do you mean to be 
 hanged ?" 
 
 November ^th. Hab.* told me that Clarkson had 
 lately been to see the Bishop of Norwich, Bathurst. 
 He found him very liberal indeed. He told Clarkson 
 that one of his clergymen had written to him to 
 complain that a Mr. Dewhurst had opened a meet- 
 ing in his parish and was preaching against him. 
 " I wrote him word," said the Bishop, " that he 
 must preach against Mr. Dewhurst. I could not help 
 him." 
 
 November i$th. Fraser related a humorous story of 
 his meeting in a stage-coach with a little fellow who was 
 not only very smart and buckish in his dress, but' also a 
 pretender to science and philosophy. He spoke of having 
 been at Paris, and of having read Helvetius, Voltaire, 
 &c., and was very fluent in his declamation on the origin 
 of ideas, self-love, and the other favourite doctrines of 
 the new school. He said, " I have no objection to con- 
 fess myself a materialist!' On this an old man, who 
 had listened for a long time to the discourse, and had 
 more than once betrayed symptoms of dissatisfaction 
 and scorn towards the philosopher, could not contain 
 
 himself any longer. " D it, that's too bad ! You 
 
 have the impudence to say you are a materialist, when 
 I know you are a dancing-master" The voluble orator 
 was dumb -foundered, and Fraser could not restrain 
 the most violent laughter, which mortally offended the 
 cutter of capers. " It is too bad," muttered the old 
 man, who did not comprehend the cause of Fraser's 
 
 * H. C. R.'s brother, Habakkuk.
 
 Coleridge s Lectures. 
 
 347 
 
 merriment, " it is too bad for a man to say he is of one 
 trade when he is of another." 
 
 December ^th. Accompanied Mrs. Rutt to Coleridge's 
 lecture.* In this he surpassed himself in the art of 
 talking in a very interesting way, without speaking at 
 all on the subject announced. According to advertise- 
 ment, he was to lecture on " Romeo and Juliet," and 
 Shakespeare's female characters. Instead of this he 
 began with a defence of school-flogging, in preference 
 at least to Lancaster's mode of punishing, without pre- 
 tending to find the least connection between that topic 
 and poetry. Afterwards he remarked on the character 
 of the age of Elizabeth and James I., as compared with 
 that of Charles I. ; distinguished not very clearly between 
 wit and fancy ; referred to the different languages of 
 Europe ; attacked the fashionable notion concerning 
 poetic diction ; ridiculed the tautology of Johnson's 
 line, "If observation, with extensive view," &c. ; and 
 warmly defended Shakespeare against the charge of 
 impurity. While Coleridge was commenting on Lan- 
 caster's mode of punishing boys, Lamb whispered : " It 
 is a pity he did not leave this till he got to ' Henry VI.,' 
 
 * This course of lectures was delivered at the room of the London Philoso- 
 phical Society, Scots Corporation Hall, Crane Court, Fleet Street. The first 
 lecture was delivered on the i8th of November. Mr. Robinson attended the 
 greater part of the course, but, through absence from London, was not present 
 at the whole. The subject announced was: "Shakespeare and Milton, in 
 Illustration of the Principles of Poetry, and their Application as Grounds of 
 Criticism to the most Popular Works of later English Poets, those of the Living 
 included." Of these lectures, fifteen in number, Mr. J. P. Collier took notes 
 .in short-hand, but the notes of all excepting the first, second, sixth, seventh, 
 eighth, ninth, and twelfth were lost. Those notes which were preserved were 
 published in 1856: "Seven Lectures on Shakespeare and Milton. By the 
 late S. T. Coleridge." By J. P. Collier, Esq. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 discursive-
 
 348 
 
 Coleridge 's Lectures. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Letter from 
 Mrs. Clark- 
 son. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 lectures. 
 
 for then he might say he could not help taking part 
 against the Lancastrians." Afterwards, when Coleridge 
 was running from topic to topic, Lamb said, " This is 
 not much amiss. He promised a lecture on the Nurse 
 in ' Romeo and Juliet/ and in its place he has given 
 us one in the manner of the Nurse." 
 
 MRS. CLARKSON TO H. C. R. 
 
 Dec. $th, 1811. 
 
 Do give me some account of Coleridge. I guess 
 you drew up the account in the Times of the first 
 lecture. I do hope he will have steadiness to go on 
 with the lectures to the end. It would be so great a 
 point gained, if he could but pursue one object without 
 
 interruption I remember a beautiful 
 
 expression of Patty Smith's, after describing a visit at 
 Mr. Wilberforce's : " To know him," she said, " all he 
 is, and to see him with such lively childish spirits, one 
 need not say, ' God bless him !' he seems already in the 
 
 fulness of every earthly gift." Of all men, 
 
 there seems most need to say " God bless poor Cole- 
 ridge!" One could almost believe that an enchanter's 
 spell was upon him, forcing him to be what he is, 
 and yet leaving him the power of showing what he 
 
 might be. 
 
 ****** 
 
 December gf/i. Accompanied Mrs. Rough to Cole- 
 ridge's seventh and incomparably best lecture. He 
 declaimed with great eloquence about love, without 
 wandering from his subject, "Romeo and Juliet." He 
 was spirited, methodical, and, for the greater part,
 
 Talk about Shakespeare. 
 
 349 
 
 intelligible, though profound. Drew up for the 
 Morning Chronicle a hasty report, which was inserted. 
 loth. Miss Lamb dined with us. In the evening 
 Charles Lamb, Manning, and Mrs. Fenwick. A 
 pleasant evening. Lamb spoke well about Shake- 
 speare. I had objected to Coleridge's assertion, that 
 Shakespeare, as it were, identified himself with every- 
 thing except the vicious ; and I observed that if Shake- 
 speare's becoming a character is to be determined by the 
 truth and vivacity of his delineation, he had become 
 some of the vicious characters as well as the virtuous. 
 Lamb justified Coleridge's remark, by saying that 
 Shakespeare never gives characters wholly odious and 
 detestable. I adduced the King in " Hamlet" as alto- 
 gether mean ; and he allowed this to be the worst of 
 Shakespeare's characters. He has not another like it. 
 I cited Lady Macbeth. " I think this one of Shake- 
 speare's worst characters," said Lamb. " It is also in- 
 consistent with itself. Her sleep-walking does not suit 
 so hardened a being." It occurs to me, however, that 
 this very sleep-walking is, perhaps, the vindication of 
 Shakespeare's portraiture of the character, as thereby 
 the honour of human nature, if I may use the expres- 
 sion, is saved. The voluntary actions and sentiments of 
 Lady Macbeth are all inhuman, but her invohmtary 
 nature rises up against her habitual feelings, which 
 sprang out of depraved passions. Hence, though while 
 awake she is a monster, she is a woman in her sleep. I 
 then referred to the Bastard in " Lear," but Lamb con- 
 sidered his character as the result of provocation on 
 account of his illegitimacy. Lamb mentioned lago and 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 
 Talk with 
 Charles 
 Lamb 
 about 
 Shake- 
 speare. 
 
 Lady Mac- 
 beth.
 
 Coleridge s Inconsistency 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 i8n. 
 
 Kingjohn. 
 
 Richard II. 
 Parkin. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 Richard III. as admirable illustrations of the skill with 
 which Shakespeare could make his worst characters 
 interesting. I noticed King John and Lewis, as if 
 Shakespeare meant, like a Jacobin, to show how base 
 kings are. Lamb did not remark on this, but said 
 " ' King John ' is one of the plays I like least." He 
 praised "Richard II." 
 
 December \\th. In the evening with Lamb at tea. 
 An hour's call on Parkin. I was sorry to find that he 
 was hurt by my mode of replying to him last Friday 
 at the Academical Society. He thought that, though I 
 spoke of him in words very handsomely, there was yet 
 in my manner something which implied a want of moral 
 esteem. I believe I satisfied him of his mistake ; but I 
 know my easily besetting sin, of unconsciously assuming 
 an offensive tone on such occasions, and I will, if possible, 
 be on my guard that my manner may not give pain 
 when what I say is substantially innocent. Parkin men- 
 tioned that, in a letter to the Editor of the Eclectic 
 Review, Coleridge had declared his adherence to the 
 principles of Bull and Waterland. There are, I know, 
 some persons who deem Coleridge hardly sincere ; I 
 believe him to be only inconsistent. I certainly am 
 altogether unable to reconcile his metaphysical and 
 empirico-religious opinions. 
 
 December \2th. Tea with Mrs. Flaxman, who accom- 
 panied me to Coleridge's lecture. He unhappily re- 
 lapsed into his desultory habit, and delivered, I think, 
 his worst lecture. He began with identifying religion 
 with love, delivered a rhapsody on brotherly and 
 sisterly love, which seduced him into a dissertation
 
 and Discursiveness. 
 
 351 
 
 on incest. I at last lost all power of attending to 
 him. 
 
 H. C. R. TO MRS. CLARKSON. 
 
 56 Hatton Garden, 
 
 Nov. 2$f/i, 1811. 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 Of course you have already heard of the lectures 
 on poetry which Coleridge is now delivering, and I 
 fear have begun to think me inattentive in not sending 
 you some account of them. Yesterday he delivered 
 the fourth, and I could not before form anything like 
 an opinion of the probable result. Indeed, it is hardly 
 otherwise now with me, but were I to wait till I could 
 form a judgment, the very subject itself might escape 
 from observation. He has about 150 hearers on an 
 average. The lectures have been brilliant, that is, in 
 passages ; but I doubt much his capacity to render them 
 popular. Or rather, I should say, I doubt any man's 
 power to render a system of philosophy popular which 
 supposes so much unusual attention and rare faculties 
 of thinking even in the hearer. The majority of what 
 are called sensible and thinking men have, to borrow 
 a phrase from Coleridge, " the passion of clear ideas ;" 
 and as all poets have a very opposite passion that of 
 warm feelings and delight in musing over conceptions 
 and imaginings beyond the reach of the analytic 
 faculty no wonder there is a sort of natural hostility 
 between these classes of minds. This will ever be a 
 bar to Coleridge's extensive popularity. Besides which, 
 he has certain unfortunate habits, which he will not 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 i8ir. 
 
 Coleridge as 
 a lecturer.
 
 Coleridge 's German Tendencies. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 
 German 
 
 character of 
 
 Coleridge s 
 
 mind. 
 
 Letter on 
 Coleridge' s 
 lectures. 
 
 (perhaps cannot) correct, very detrimental to his inte- 
 rests I mean the vices of apologizing, anticipating, and 
 repeating. We have had four lectures, and are still in 
 the Prolegomena to the Shakespearian drama. When 
 we are to begin Milton, I have no idea. With all these 
 defects, there will always be a small circle who will 
 listen with delight to his eloquent effusions (for that is 
 the appropriate expression). I have not missed a 
 lecture, and have each time left the room with the 
 satisfaction which the hearkening to the display of 
 truth in a beautiful form always gives. I have a Ger- 
 man friend who attends also, and who is delighted to 
 find the logic and the rhetoric of his country delivered 
 in a foreign language. There is no doubt that Cole- 
 ridge's mind is much more German than English. My 
 friend has pointed out striking analogies between 
 Coleridge and German authors whom Coleridge has 
 
 never seen. 
 
 H. C. R. TO MRS. CLARKSON. 
 
 56, Hatton Garden, 
 
 Dec. i$th, 1811. 
 My Dear Friend, 
 
 Yesterday I should have been 
 
 able to send you a far more pleasant letter than I can 
 possibly furnish you with now ; for I should then have 
 had to speak of one of the most gratifying and de- 
 lightful exertions of Coleridge's mind on Monday last ; 
 and now I am both pained and provoked by as un- 
 worthy a sequel to his preceding lecture. And you 
 know it is a law of our nature,
 
 Coleridge's Lectures. 
 
 353 
 
 "As high as we have mounted in delight, 
 In our dejection do we sink as low." 
 
 You have so beautifully and exactly expressed the 
 sentiment that every considerate and kind observer of 
 your friend must entertain, that it is quite needless to 
 give you any account of his lectures with a view to 
 direct any judgment you might wish to form, or any 
 feeling you might be disposed to encourage. You will, 
 I am sure, anticipate the way in which he will execute 
 his lectures. As evidences of splendid talent, original 
 thought, and rare powers of expression and fancy, they 
 are all his admirers can wish ; but as a discharge of his 
 undertaking, a fulfilment of his promise to the public, 
 they give his friends great uneasiness. As you express 
 it, " an enchanter's spell seems to be upon him," which 
 takes from him the power of treating upon the only 
 subject his hearers are anxious he should consider, while 
 it leaves him infinite ability to riot and run wild on a 
 variety of moral and religious themes. In his sixth 
 lecture he was, by advertisement, to speak of " Romeo 
 and Juliet " and Shakespeare's females ; unhappily, 
 some demon whispered the name of Lancaster in his 
 ear : and we had, in one evening, an attack on the poor 
 Quaker, a defence of boarding-school flogging, a parallel 
 between the ages of Elizabeth and Charles, a defence of 
 what is untruly called unpoetic language, an account of 
 the different languages of Europe, and a vindication of 
 Shakespeare against the imputation of grossness ! ! ! I 
 suspect he did discover that offence was taken at this, 
 for his succeeding lecture on Monday was all we could 
 wish. He confined himself to " Romeo and Juliet" for 
 VOL. I. A A 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Coleridge as 
 a lecturer.
 
 354 
 
 Coleridge s Lectures. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 
 Godwin. 
 
 a time, treated of the inferior characters, and delivered a 
 most eloquent discourse on love, with a promise to point 
 out how Shakespeare had shown the same truths in the 
 persons of the lovers. Yesterday we were to have a 
 continuation of the theme. Alas ! Coleridge began 
 with a parallel between religion and love, which, though 
 one of his favourite themes, he did not manage success- 
 fully. Romeo and Juliet were forgotten. And in the 
 next lecture we are really to hear something of these 
 lovers. Now this will be the fourth time that his hearers 
 have been invited expressly to hear of this play. There 
 are to be only fifteen lectures altogether (half have 
 been delivered), and the course is to include Shakespeare 
 and Milton, the modern poets, &c. ! ! ! Instead of a 
 lecture on a definite subject, we have an immethodical 
 rhapsody, very delightful to you and me, and only 
 offensive from the certainty that it may and ought to 
 offend those who come with other expectations. Yet, 
 with all this, I cannot but be charmed with these splendida 
 vitia, and my chief displeasure is occasioned by my 
 being forced to hear, the strictures of persons infinitely 
 below Coleridge, without any power of refuting or con- 
 tradicting them. Yet it is lucky he has hitherto omitted 
 no lecture. Living with the Morgans, they force him to 
 come with them to the lecture-room, and this is a great 
 point gained 
 
 December \^th, Called on Godwin, who thinks 
 Coleridge's lectures far below his conversation. So far 
 from agreeing with Coleridge, that Shakespeare's plays 
 ought only to be read and not acted, Godwin said, " No
 
 Mr. Nash, Senr. 
 
 355 
 
 plays but Shakespeare's deserve to be represented, so 
 admirably fitted are his for performance." 
 
 i6th. Took Miss Flaxman to Coleridge's lecture. 
 Very desultory again at first, but when about half way 
 through, he bethought himself of Shakespeare ; and 
 though he forgot at last what we had been four times in 
 succession to hear, viz. of Romeo and Juliet as lovers, 
 yet he treated beautifully of the "Tempest," and 
 especially Prospero, Miranda, Ariel, and Caliban. This 
 part most excellent. 
 
 Christmas Day (at Royston). A very agreeable tete- 
 a-tete walk with Mr. Nash, Senr., round his farm. I en- 
 joyed his society with more relish, probably, than I ever 
 shall again. He is getting old, though, excepting in the 
 decline of his memory, there are no traces yet of bodily 
 infirmity. Sometimes, however, the effects of old age 
 throw a tender grace over men of his amiable and excel- 
 lent character. In his youth he was a Methodist, and he 
 was industrious, patient, abstinent, capable of continu- 
 ous labour, mental and bodily. His education was not 
 of a superior kind, but he had the advantage of great 
 personal beauty, as well as ability in business. He was 
 brought up to the law, and had offers of a partnership 
 in London ; but these he declined because he saw 
 practices of which his conscience disapproved. Marry- 
 ing early, he settled down as a country practitioner. In 
 religious opinions he became a Unitarian, and Robert 
 Robinson* was the object of his admiration. His single 
 
 * An eminent Dissenting Minister of Cambridge. Born 1735. Died 1790. 
 His immediate successor was the Rev. Robert Hall. 
 
 Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Robert Robinson were written by 
 
 A A 2 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 Mr. Nash 
 Senr.
 
 356 
 
 Quaker Anecdote. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 A scandal 
 on Quakers. 
 
 Coleridge s 
 lecture. 
 
 publication, in which he called himself " A Country 
 Attorney," was one of the hundred-and-one answers 
 to Burke on the French Revolution. His life was pros- 
 perous, and alike honourable to himself and, within his 
 limited sphere, useful to others. The latter days of a 
 good man are not a melancholy object, even when one 
 thinks that his moral and intellectual qualities might 
 have been more advantageously employed in a wider 
 field. This alone renders departing excellence a subject 
 of melancholy observation.* 
 
 December 2%th. A gossip with E. till late. He re- 
 lated a curious Quaker anecdote, which suggests a law 
 question. One friend, a merchant, proposes to another, 
 an underwriter, to insure his ship, lost or not lost, which 
 ought soon to arrive. The underwriter hesitates, takes 
 the policy home, and says, " I will return it to-morrow, 
 signed or unsigned." Early in the morning the mer- 
 chant receives intelligence of the loss of his vessel. He 
 knows his religious brother, and sends a clerk (who is 
 ignorant of the loss) to say, "Neighbour A. informs 
 thee that if thou hast not underwritten, thou needest 
 not do it." The underwriter draws the inference that 
 the vessel is safe. He has not actually signed, but 
 pretending to look for the policy, contrives to sign 
 it by stealth, and says to the clerk, " Tell thy master 
 I had signed." E. assured me that this was a real 
 occurrence. 
 
 December y^tJi. Attended Coleridge's lecture, in 
 which he kept to his subject. He intimated to me his 
 
 George Dyer. This biography was pronounced by Wordsworth to be one of 
 the best in the English language. See also p. 156. 
 * See ante, pp. 35, 293.
 
 Dawn of a New Year. 
 
 357 
 
 intention to deliver two lectures on Milton. As he had 
 written to me about his dilemma, having so much to do 
 in so little time, I gently hinted in my reply at his 
 frequent digressions those splendida peccata which his 
 friends best apologized for by laying the emphasis on 
 the adjective. 
 
 December $\st. In the evening at a very pleasant 
 party at Flaxman's. A Mrs. Wilkinson there with her 
 son, a most interesting young man, with one of those 
 expressive countenances which imply intellect and heart 
 alike. Flaxman admires him much, and says he 
 would prefer him as a son to all the young men he ever 
 saw. 
 
 Rem* Closed the year most agreeably, in the act, 
 I believe, of repeating to Mr. Flaxman Charles Lamb's 
 prologue to "Mr. H." The society I beheld at the dawn 
 of the New Year consisted of people possessing as high 
 moral and intellectual excellences combined as are to be 
 found in this great city. 
 
 I had now made up my mind to study for the Bar. 
 This resolution was formed through an apparently in- 
 significant occurrence. It was on the ist of March, when 
 my sister (who with my brother had been on a visit to 
 London) was about to leave, that Mr. Collier received 
 an application from York to send down a reporter for 
 the State Trials there. He requested me to go, but I 
 declined on the ground of the objection taken to 
 reporters being called to the Bar. Speaking of this to 
 my sister,-f- she said, " For a man who has the repute of 
 having sense, you act very like a fool. You decline 
 
 * Written in 1849. t Mrs. Thomas Robinson. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Flaxman. 
 
 Determina- 
 tion to 
 study for 
 the Bar.
 
 358 
 
 Determination to study 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Sisterly 
 counsel. 
 
 reporting because that might be an obstacle to your 
 being called to the Bar, and yet you take no steps 
 towards being called to the Bar. Now, do one or the 
 other. Either take to newspaper employment, or study 
 the Law at once, and lose no more time." There was no 
 reply to such a remonstrance. On the Sunday following, 
 I went to Amyot to consult with him. There was then 
 visiting him a Norwich attorney, Mr. Adam Taylor, who 
 strongly advised me to go to the Bar, adding, " There 
 is an opening on the Norfolk circuit. I am sure you 
 would succeed. You shall have such business as I have, 
 and as I can obtain." It was this that more than 
 anything determined me. My old acquaintance, Walter 
 Wright, my new acquaintance, Serjeant Rough, and my 
 friend Anthony Robinson,* all supported me in the 
 resolution ; but perhaps they all feel as Benvenuto Cel- 
 lini felt on a similar occasion : " Have you, my lord, 
 really bought the picture, or do you only think of buying 
 it ?" "What has that to do with your opinion, Cellini?" 
 " A great deal. If you have really bought the picture, 
 then I have only to make such remarks as will render 
 
 Anthony Robinson (born in 1762), was originally brought up in connection 
 with the Established Church ; but, changing his opinions, was educated at 
 Bristol for the Dissenting ministry. Robert Hall was one of his fellow-students. 
 He did not long remain in the ministry, but entered into business as a sugar- 
 refiner, in which he continued till his death. Though, however, he professed 
 to be merely a tradesman, he yet retained a lively interest in social and religious 
 questions, and was a steady and active supporter of civil and religious liberty- 
 He published several pamphlets and articles in reviews. Among the former 
 was an able examination of Robert Hall's celebrated ' ' Sermon on Modern 
 Infidelity." H. C. R. said of him, "as I scarcely ever knew Anthony 
 Robinson's equal in colloquial eloquence, in acuteness and skill, and prompti- 
 tude in debate, so I never knew his superior in candour and sincerity." 
 Between H. C. R. and his friend there was no relationship, though they have 
 the same surname.
 
 for the Bar. 
 
 359 
 
 you satisfied with your bargain ; but if you are only 
 thinking of buying it, then it is my duty to tell you my 
 real opinion." 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS BROTHER. 
 
 56, Hatton Garden, 
 
 i ^th March, 1811. 
 Dear Thomas, 
 
 I have at length (after hesitating only from twelve 
 to thirteen years) made up my mind to abandon all 
 my hobby-horsical and vain, idle, and empty literary 
 pursuits, and devote myself to the Law. It is now ten 
 days since I have given words and form to this deter- 
 mination, which an accident after all has occasioned me 
 to make. My sister, perhaps, told you of a proposal 
 Mr. Collier made me, that I should go to York to 
 transact a business which certainly would not agree 
 with the professional character. But my sister did not 
 tell you, because she was not herself aware of the fact, 
 that it was a simple sentence which dropped from her, 
 which made me sensible (more strongly than I had ever 
 been before) of the extreme folly of my conduct. As 
 we were walking down to the Inn on Saturday morning 
 she said There is something very inconsistent in your 
 behaviour. You refuse a profitable job, because it is 
 incompatible with the character of a barrister, and yet 
 you cannot be made to open a law-book. Now, you 
 
 ought to do one or the other. Make up your mind at least. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Your affectionate brother, 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Announce- 
 ment of in- 
 tention to 
 study for 
 the Bar.
 
 360 
 
 Literary Work. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 1811. 
 Amotonda. 
 
 Transla- 
 tion from 
 Jean Paul 
 Richter. 
 
 In the Spring, and just before I was induced seriously 
 to prepare for being called to the Bar, I translated 
 "Amatonda," a fairy tale by Anton Wall.* I have 
 already given some account of the work itself.-f- My 
 translation was published by Longman, but I believe 
 fell dead from the press. None but friends ever 
 praised it. I have a letter of praise from Coleridge. 
 And Lamb at least liked the translations from Jean 
 Paul (at the end), which were, I believe, the first trans- 
 lations from Jean Paul into English. He said they 
 were the finest things he ever saw from the German 
 language. The book, so far as I know, was never 
 reviewed, and I obtained no credit from my work. 
 Perhaps happily, for it was the failure of my attempt 
 to gain distinction by writing that made me willing to 
 devote myself honestly to the Law, and so saved me 
 from the mortification that follows a little literary 
 success, by which many men of inferior faculties, like 
 myself, have been betrayed into an unwise adoption of 
 literature as a profession, which after this year I never 
 once thought of. 
 
 COLERIDGE to H. C. R. 
 
 I have to thank you, my dear Robinson, for the 
 pleasure I have enjoyed in the perusal of Anton Wall's 
 delightful tale. I read it first with my eyes only, and 
 only to myself; but the second time aloud to two 
 amiable women. Both times I felt myself in the 
 embrace of the fairy Amatonda. The German critic 
 
 * "Amatonda." A tale from the German of Anton Wall. London: 
 Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown. 1811. 
 f See p. 162.
 
 Amatonda" 
 
 361 
 
 has noticed as a defect and an oversight what I regard 
 as one of the capital beauties of the work, and thus 
 convinced me that for reviewers the world over, and for 
 readers whose intellects are commensurate with theirs, 
 
 an author must write under his best conceptions 
 
 I recollect no fairy tale with so just and fine a moral as 
 this of Anton Wall's. Virtue itself, though joined with 
 outward competence, cannot give that happiness which 
 contents the human heart, without love ; but love is 
 impossible without virtue, love, true human love, 
 i.e. two hearts, like two correspondent concave mirrors 
 having a common focus, while each reflects and mag- 
 nifies the other, and in the other itself is an endless 
 
 reduplication by sweet thoughts and sympathies. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Hassan's love for Amina is ^beautifully described as 
 having had a foundation from early childhood. And 
 this I many years ago planned as the subject- 
 matter of a poem, viz. long and deep affections 
 suddenly, in one moment, flash-transmuted into love. 
 In short, I believe that love (as distinguished both from 
 lust and that habitual attachment which may include 
 many objects diversifying itself by degrees only), that 
 that feeling (or whatever it may be more aptly called), 
 that specific mode of being, which one object only can 
 possess, and possess totally, is always the abrupt crea- 
 tion of a moment, though years of dawning may have 
 preceded. I said dawning, for often as I have watched 
 the sun rising from the thinning, diluting blue to the 
 whitening, to the fawn-coloured, the pink, the crimson, 
 the glory, yet still the sun itself has always started up 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Criticism 
 
 by 
 Coleridge. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on love.
 
 362 
 
 Letter from 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 
 j8n. 
 
 On love. 
 
 out of the horizon ! Between the brightest hues of the 
 dawning, and the first rim of the sun itself, there is a 
 chasm all before were differences of degrees, passing 
 and dissolving into each other but this is a difference 
 of kind a chasm of kind in a continuity of time ; and 
 as no man who had never watched for the rise of the 
 sun could understand what I mean, so can no man 
 who has not been in love understand what love is, though 
 he will be sure to imagine and believe that he does. 
 
 Thus, is by nature incapable of being in love, 
 
 though no man more tenderly attached ; hence he 
 ridicules the existence of any other passion than a 
 compound of lust with esteem and friendship, confined 
 to one object, first by accidents of association, and per- 
 manently by the force of habit and a sense of duty. 
 Now this will do very well it will suffice to make a 
 good husband ; it may be even desirable {if the largest 
 sum of easy and pleasurable sensations in this life be the 
 right aim and end of human wisdom) that we should have 
 this, and no more, but still it is not love and there is 
 such a passion as love which is no more a compound 
 than oxygen, though like oxygen it has an almost uni- 
 versal affinity, and a long and finely graduated scale of 
 elective attractions. It combines with lust but how ? 
 Does lust call forth or occasion love ? Just as much as 
 the reek of the marsh calls up the sun. The sun 
 calls up the vapour attenuates, lifts it it becomes a 
 cloud and now it is the veil of the divinity ; the 
 divinity, transpiercing it at once, hides and declares his 
 presence. We see, we are conscious of light alone ; but 
 it is light embodied in the earthly nature, which that
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 light itself awoke and sublimated. What is the body, 
 but the fixture of the mind the stereotype impres- 
 sion ? Arbitrary are the symbols yet symbols they 
 are. Is terror in my soul ? my heart beats against 
 my side. Is grief? tears pour in my eyes. In her 
 homely way, the body tries to interpret all the movements 
 of the soul. Shall it not, then, imitate and symbolize 
 that divinest movement of a finite spirit the yearning 
 to complete itself by union ? Is there not a sex in 
 souls ? We have all eyes, cheeks, lips but in a 
 lovely woman are not the eyes womanly yea, every 
 form, in every motion of her whole frame, womanly ? 
 Were there not an identity in the substance, man and 
 woman might join, but they could never unify ; were 
 there not throughout, in body and in soul, a correspond- 
 ing and adapted difference, there might be addition, 
 but there could be no combination. I and 1=2; 
 but i cannot be multiplied into I : I x 1 = 1. At 
 best, it would be an idle echo, the same thing needlessly 
 repeated, as the idiot told the clock one, one, one, 
 one, &c. 
 
 It has just come into my head that this scrawl is very 
 much in the style of Jean Paul. I have not, however, 
 as yet looked into the books you were so kind as to 
 leave with me, further than to see the title-page. If 
 you do not want them for some time, I should be glad to 
 keep them by me, while I read the original works them- 
 selves. I pray you procure them for me week by week, 
 and I will promise you most carefully to return them, 
 you allowing me three days for two volumes. I am 
 very anxious to have them, and shall fill one volume 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 On the body 
 as symbolic 
 
 of the 
 
 spirit.
 
 364 
 
 Letter from Coleridge. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Coleridge s 
 troubles. 
 
 of the "Omniana" with the extracts, quoting your 
 criticism as my introduction : only, instead of the 
 shelves or steps, I must put the ladder of a library, 
 or whatever name those movable steps are called which 
 one meets with in all well-furnished libraries. 
 
 I have been extremely unwell, though rather better. 
 George Burnet's* death told too abruptly, and, in truth, 
 exaggerated, overset my dear, most dear, and most 
 excellent friend and heart's sister, Mary Lamb and her 
 illness has almost overset me. Troubles, God knows ! 
 have thronged upon me alas ! alas ! all my dearest 
 friends I have of late either suffered from, or suffered for. 
 'Tis a cruel sort of world we live in. God bless you 
 And yours, with affectionate esteem, 
 S. T. COLERIDGE. 
 
 Southampton Buildings. 
 
 P.S. I began with the scrap of paper, meaning only 
 to write half a score lines, and now I have written enough 
 for half a dozen letters -f- unnecessarily, when to have 
 written to half a dozen claimants is a moral (would it 
 were a physical) necessity. But moral obligation is to 
 me so very strong a stimulant, that in nine cases out of 
 ten it acts as a narcotic. The blow that should rouse, 
 stuns me. 
 
 [Though Mr. Robinson was never married, some of his 
 friends occasionally volunteered their advice to him on the 
 
 * George Burnet was a very early friend of Coleridge ; he joined with him, 
 Southey, and Lovell in the scheme for emigrating to America, and there 
 forming a colony, to be called a Pantisocracy, the main principle of which was 
 a community of goods, and where selfishness was to be proscribed. 
 
 f The beginning of the letter is on a scrap, after filling which the writer took 
 a sheet of foolscap.
 
 Advice on Marriage. 
 
 365 
 
 subject of matrimony. * A letter containing such advice 
 belongs to this year, and may be inserted here. ED.] 
 
 CAPEL LOFFT TO H. C. R. 
 
 Dear Sir, Oct. yd, i*u. 
 
 Perhaps one man ought never to advise another, 
 unasked ; especially when that other is probably better 
 able to advise himself. I do, however, advise you, if 
 ever you marry, never (as a man of feeling, and who 
 loves literature, and liberty, and science) to marry a 
 woman of what is called a strong, mind. The love of 
 dominion and the whirlwind of instability are, I fear, 
 inseparable from a female mind of that character. All 
 women and all beings love power ; but a woman of a 
 mild and compliant mind seeks and maintains power 
 by correspondent means. These are not called strong 
 minds. No matter, if they are mild, and modest, and 
 delicate, and sympathizing minds, such as the Julie of 
 Rousseau, the Alcestis of Euripides, the Antigone of 
 Sophocles, and the Eve of Milton. Hence every woman 
 should be a lover of music and of feminine music; and 
 particularly of the vocal. And in that she should cul- 
 tivate the soft, the low, and the sweet. " Her voice 
 was ever low, gentle, and sweet ; an excellent thing in 
 woman," says that great depictor of character, and par- 
 ticularly of women, who has so exquisitely imagined 
 and delineated Miranda, Viola, Ophelia, Desdemona, 
 
 Cordelia, Helena. 
 
 I am, 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 CAPEL LOFFT. 
 
 CHAP. xiv. 
 1811. 
 
 Against 
 strong- 
 minded 
 women.
 
 366 
 
 Letter from H, C. R. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on Richard 
 
 III., 
 
 Hamlet, 
 
 ffe. 
 
 On action 
 
 as the end 
 
 of all. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 1812. 
 
 H. C. R. TO MRS. CLARKSON. 
 
 56, Hatton Garden, 
 
 3 rd January, 1812. 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 I received your letter last night, and will write the 
 answer immediately, though I cannot forward it till I 
 have seen your brother for your address. I have a better, 
 much better, account to give of Coleridge's lectures than 
 formerly. His last three lectures have, for the greater 
 part, been all that his friends could wish his admirers 
 expect. Your sister heard the two last, and from her 
 you will learn much more than I could put into a 
 letter, had I all the leisure I now want, or the 
 memory I never had. His disquisitions on the cha- 
 racters of Richard III., lago, Falstaff, were full of 
 paradox, but very ingenious, and in the main true. His 
 remarks on Richard II. and Hamlet very excellent. 
 Last night he concluded his fine development of the 
 Prince of Denmark by an eloquent statement of the 
 moral of the play. " Action," he said, " is the great 
 end of all ; no intellect, however grand, is valuable, if 
 it draw us from action and lead us to think and think 
 till the time of action is passed by, and we can do
 
 to Mrs. Clarkson. 
 
 367 
 
 nothing." Somebody said to me, "This is a satire on 
 himself." " No," said I, " it is an elegy." A great 
 many of his remarks on Hamlet were capable of a 
 like application. I should add that he means to 
 deliver several lectures beyond the promised number. 
 This will gain him credit in the City-sense of the word ; 
 and for the sake of his future success in lecturing, I 
 am very glad he is thus prudent. 
 
 You see I am looking at the subject from a very 
 low point of view ; at the same time I am able to place 
 myself on higher ground, and then I lament equally 
 with the Wordsworths and yourself that such a man 
 should be compelled to have recourse to such means ; 
 but, after all, what is there in this lamentation more 
 than a particular instance of the general complaint of 
 all ages, that highmindedness should stoop to vul- 
 garity, that the low wants of man should drag down 
 the elevated to low pursuits, and that the noblest 
 powers of intellect should not be accompanied with 
 meaner but indispensable capacities ? * 
 
 January %th. Called on Mrs. B., who was in much 
 better spirits than I expected to find her. She spoke of 
 her father with much tenderness and love, but without 
 violent emotion. I referred to my own 'mother, and the 
 
 * Coleridge was sadly annoyed at the necessity of appealing to the kindness 
 of friends. He repeated to me an epigram, of which I recollect only the point : 
 "I fell asleep, and fancied I was surrounded by my friends, who made me 
 marvellous fine promises. I awoke and found these promises as much a dream 
 as if they had actually been made." H. C. R. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 lectures.
 
 3 68 
 
 Coleridge's Lectures. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Lecture on 
 Johnson's 
 Preface. 
 
 On Lear 
 and 
 
 Othello. 
 
 Hazlitts 
 lecture. 
 
 treasure her memory is to me. Thinking of her and 
 talking of her are a great delight, and I said I knew 
 it would be so also with Mrs. B. The joy is great of 
 having had an excellent parent. This she admitted, and 
 seemed to feel, as if I had touched the true key. 
 
 January tyh. Evening at Coleridge's lecture on 
 Johnson's " Preface." Though sometimes obscure, his 
 many palpable hits must have given general satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 January 13^/2. Accompanied Mrs. C. Aikin to Cole- 
 ridge's lecture. A continuation of remarks on Johnson's 
 " Preface," but feeble and unmeaning compared with 
 the last. The latter part of the lecture very ex- 
 cellent. It was on " Lear," in which he vindicated the 
 melancholy catastrophe, and on " Othello," in which 
 he expressed the opinion that Othello is not a jealous 
 character. 
 
 January i^th. Heard Hazlitt's first lecture on the 
 " History of English Philosophy."* He seems to have 
 no conception of the difference between a lecture and 
 a book. What he said was sensible and excellent, but 
 he delivered himself in a low monotonous voice, with 
 his eyes fixed on his MS., not once daring to look 
 at his audience ; and he read so rapidly that no 
 one could possibly give to the matter the attention it 
 required, -f- 
 
 * These lectures were delivered at the Russell Institution. 
 
 f Hazlitt had in vain striven to become a painter. He had obtained the 
 patronage of Clarkson, who said he had heard Hazlitt was more able to 
 paint like Titian than any living painter. Some one had said that his por- 
 trait of Lamb had a Titianesque air about it. And certainly this is the only 
 painting by Hazlitt I ever saw with pleasure. He made a portrait of my 
 brother, which he knew to be bad, and it was destroyed. H. C. R.
 
 Coleridge and Hazlitt. 
 
 369 
 
 January \^th. Tea with the Lambs. An evening at 
 cards. Hazlitt there, much depressed. He seemed dis- 
 posed to give up the lectures altogether. The cause of 
 his reading so rapidly was, that he was told to limit 
 himself to an hour, and what he had prepared would 
 have taken three hours, if it had been read slowly. 
 
 January i6th. At Coleridge's lecture. He reviewed 
 Johnson's " Preface," and vindicated warmly Milton's 
 moral and political character, but I think with less than 
 his usual ability. He excited a hiss once by calling 
 Johnson a fellow, for which he happily apologized by 
 observing that it is in the nature of evil to beget evil, 
 and that we are thus apt to fall into the fault we cen- 
 sure. He remarked on Milton's minor poems, and the 
 nature of blank verse. The latter half of the lecture 
 was very good. 
 
 January 17 th. Dinner at J. Buck's.* Mr. and Mrs. 
 Buck, Coleridge, the Gores, Jameson, and Aders.-f* Cole- 
 ridge was less profound than usual, but exceedingly 
 agreeable. He related anecdotes of himself. Once he 
 was arrested as a spy at Fort St. George. The Governor, 
 as soon as he saw him, muttered, " an ill-looking fellow." 
 At first everything that Coleridge could say for himself 
 was ingeniously perverted and applied against him ; but 
 at length a card he accidentally had by him, from a 
 person of quality, convinced the Governor that he was 
 a gentleman, and procured for him an invitation to 
 breakfast next morning. Coleridge then took an oppor- 
 
 * See p. 30. 
 
 f Jameson and Aders were for some time in partnership as merchants. Mr. 
 Aders had a valuable collection of pictures, which are frequently referred to in 
 the diary, and which were eventually sold by auction. 
 
 VOL. I. B B 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 lecture. 
 
 Anecdotes 
 
 f. 
 Coleridge.
 
 Studies for the Bar. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Lamb on 
 Coleridge. 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 becomes a, 
 pupil of 
 Mr. Little- 
 dale. 
 
 tunity of asking the Governor what it was in his appear- 
 ance that induced him to say " an ill-looking fellow." 
 " My dear sir," said the Governor, squeezing him by the 
 hand, " I nearly lost my sight in the West Indies, and 
 cannot see a yard before me." At Bristol, Coleridge 
 delivered lectures in conjunction with Southey. A fellow 
 who was present hissed him, and an altercation ensued. 
 The man sneered at him for professing public principle, 
 and asked, " Why, if you have so much public spirit, do 
 you take money at the door?" " For a reason," answered 
 Coleridge, " which I am sorry in the present instance 
 has not been quite successful to keep out blackguards." 
 In reference to the schools of Lancaster and Bell 
 a delicate subject in such a society Coleridge contented 
 himself with urging that it is unsafe to leave religion un- 
 taught while anything is taught. Reading and writing 
 must not be supposed to be in themselves education. 
 
 At ten went to Barron Field's.* Charles Lamb and 
 Leigh Hunt there. I found they had had a discussion 
 about Coleridge, whom Hunt had spoken of as a bad 
 writer, while Lamb thought him the first man he ever 
 knew. Lamb, in his droll and extravagant way, abused 
 every one who denied the transcendent merits of Cole- 
 ridge's writings. 
 
 January 2Ot/i. A day of some importance, perhaps, 
 in its consequences. Serjeant Rough introduced me to 
 Mr. Littledale,-f- whose pupil I became by presenting him 
 with the usual fee of 100 guineas, and by entering at 
 once on my employment. 
 
 * Afterwards a Judge in New South Wales, and subsequently at Gibraltar. 
 Some of Lamb's most amusing letters were written to him. 
 t Afterwards Judge of the Queen's Bench.
 
 Academical Society. 
 
 37* 
 
 In the evening at Coleridge's lecture. Conclusion oi 
 Milton. Not one of the happiest of Coleridge's efforts. 
 Rogers was there, and with him was Lord Byron. He 
 was wrapped up, but I recognized his club foot, and, 
 indeed, his countenance and general appearance. 
 
 January 2\st. Hazlitt's second lecture. His delivery 
 vastly improved, and I hope he will now get on. He 
 read at Basil Montagu's last night half his first lecture. 
 He was to read the whole, but abruptly broke off, and 
 could not be persuaded to read the remainder. Lamb 
 and other friends were there. 
 
 February 2\st. In the evening at the Academical 
 Society. Mr. Sheil spoke, who was black-balled lately 
 after a violent and pompous speech. His present 
 speech was sensible and temperate. Blake, his country- 
 man, watched over him to keep him in order. He 
 spoke as if he had been fed for three weeks on bread 
 and water in order to be tamed. 
 
 Rcm* He was black-balled again on a later occasion. 
 What alone makes this worth mentioning is that he 
 who was twice rejected by an insignificant society of 
 young men is now one of the most popular and admired 
 speakers in the House of Commons, the Right Hon- 
 ourable Richard Lalor Sheil. 
 
 February 26th. A dinner-party. Coleridge, Godwin, 
 &c., &c. The company rather too numerous. Coleridge 
 by no means the eloquent man he usually is. It was 
 not till ten minutes before he went away that he fell 
 into a declaiming mood ; " having," as Godwin said, 
 "got upon the indefinites and the infinites," viz. the 
 
 * Written in 1849. 
 
 R B 2 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 lecture. 
 
 Hazlitt's 
 lecture. 
 
 Sheil. 
 
 Dinner- 
 party. 
 Godwin 
 
 and 
 Coleridge.
 
 372 
 
 Coleridge s concluding Lecture. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 On Milton. 
 
 nature of religious conviction. He contended that the 
 external evidence of Christianity would be weak but for 
 the internal evidence arising out of the necessity of our 
 nature our want of religion. He made use of one 
 very happy allusion. Speaking of the mingling of 
 subordinate evils with great good, he said, " though the 
 serpent does twine himself round the staff of the god 
 of healing."* 
 
 H. C. R. TO MRS. CLARKSON. 
 
 Gray's Inn,-\ 28t/i Jan. 1812. 
 
 You will be interested to hear how Coleridge's 
 lectures closed : they ended with eclat. The room was 
 crowded, and the lecture had several passages more 
 than brilliant they were luminous, and the light gave 
 conscious pleasure to every person who knew that he 
 could both see the glory and the objects around it at 
 once, while (you know) mere splendour, like the patent 
 lamps, presents a flame that only puts out the eyes. 
 Coleridge's explanation of the character of Satan, and 
 his vindication of Milton against the charge of falling 
 below his subject, where he introduces the Supreme 
 Being, and his illustration of the difference between 
 poetic and abstract truth, and of the diversity in identity 
 
 * Godwin and Rough met at this party for the first time. The very next 
 day Godwin called on me to say how much he liked Rough, adding, ' ' By- 
 the-by, do you think he would lend me ^50 just now, as I am in want of a 
 little money ?" He had not left me an hour before Rough came with a like 
 question. He wanted a bill discounted, and asked whether I thought Godwin 
 would do it for him ? The habit of both was so well known that some persons 
 were afraid to invite them, lest it should lead to an application for a loan from 
 some friend who chanced to be present. H. C. R. 
 
 f Mr. Littledale's chambers were in Gray's Inn.
 
 Covent Garden Theatre. 
 
 373 
 
 between the philosopher and the poet, were equally wise 
 and beautiful. He concluded with a few strokes of 
 satire ; but I cannot forgive him for selecting alone (ex- 
 cept an attack on Pope's " Homer," qualified by insincere 
 eulogy) Mrs. Barbauld. She is a living writer, a woman, 
 and a person who, however discordant with himself in 
 character and taste, has still always shown him civilities 
 and attentions. It was surely ungenerous 
 
 February 2jth. Coleridge's concluding lecture. A 
 dinner at John Thelwall's. The American poet North- 
 more there ; also the Rev. W. Frend ; * George Dyer,-f- 
 whose gentle manners were a contrast to the sloven- 
 liness of his dress ; Northcote the painter ; and a very 
 interesting man named Nicholson, who has raised him- 
 self out of the lowest condition, though not out of 
 poverty, by literary and scientific labours. What he 
 has written (not printed) would fill 300 moderate-sized 
 volumes. For an introduction to Natural Philosophy 
 he received 150. He has the air of a robust man, 
 both in body and in mind. 
 
 March \Qth. Mrs. Collier and I went to Covent 
 Garden Theatre. " Julius Caesar." We were forced to 
 stand all the time. Young as Cassius surpassed 
 Kemble as Brutus. Indeed the whole performance of 
 the latter was cold, stiff, and pedantic. In the quarrel 
 
 * The eminent mathematician, and former Fellow and Tutor of Jesus Col- 
 lege, Cambridge. For a pamphlet published by him in 1793, ar "d containing 
 expressions of dislike to the doctrines and discipline of the Established Church, 
 he was, after a trial of eight days by the University authorities, sentenced to 
 banishment from the University. His fellowship he retained till his marriage. 
 
 t 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Dinner at 
 Thelwall's. 
 
 Young and 
 Kemble.
 
 374 
 
 Talk with H amend. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Jeremy 
 Bent ham. 
 
 Flaxman, 
 R.A. 
 
 scene only, his fine figure gave him an advantage over 
 Young. He was once warmly applauded ; but, on the 
 whole, Young seemed to be the favourite, and where he 
 instigated Brutus to concur in the plot, he drew down 
 peals of applause. The two orations from the rostrum 
 produced no effect whatever. The architectural scenery 
 was very grand. 
 
 MarcJi \t>tJi. A pleasant walk to Hampstead. Had 
 much conversation with Hamond. Some years ago he 
 called on Jeremy Bentham without any introduction, 
 merely to obtain the acquaintance of the great man. 
 Bentham at first declined to receive him, but on seeing 
 Hamond's card altered his mind, and an intimacy 
 arose. Bentham himself, when a young man, was so 
 enthusiastic an admirer of Helvetius, that he actually 
 thought of offering himself as a servant to him. 
 "You," said he to Hamond, in reference to his desire, 
 " took a better way." When Hamond told me this, 
 I did not confess that, sixteen years ago, the idea of 
 doing a similar thing floated before my own mind; 
 but I was pleased to find that the same extrava- 
 gancy of sentiment had affected so superior a man as 
 Bentham. 
 
 March i6th. Flaxman's lecture. The short cha- 
 racteristics of the most famous pieces of sculpture of 
 antiquity very interesting. There was not in this, any 
 more than in preceding lectures I have heard from 
 him, great power of discrimination, or much of what 
 in a lower sense is called understanding, though 
 Flaxman's beautiful sense and refined taste are far 
 superior to any understanding the mere critic can
 
 CJiarlcs Lamb. 
 
 375 
 
 possess. The artist needs a different and higher 
 quality Kunstsinn (feeling for art), and that Flaxman 
 possesses in a greater degree than any other ma,n I 
 know. Returned to Charles Lamb, with whom were 
 Barren Field, Leigh Hunt, and Barnes.* The latter 
 with a somewhat feist appearance, has a good counte- 
 nance, and is a man who, I dare say, will make his way 
 in the world. He has talents and activity, and in- 
 ducements to activity. He has obtained high honours 
 at Cambridge, and is now a candidate for a fellowship. 
 He reports for Walter. Charles Lamb was at his best 
 very good-humoured, but at the same time solid. 
 I never heard him talk to greater advantage. He 
 wrote last week in the Examiner some capital lines, 
 " The Triumph of the Whale,"-}- and this occasioned the 
 conversation to take more of a political turn than is 
 
 * For a long time Editor of the Times. 
 
 \ Not contained in his published works. H. C. R. says that in Galignani 
 this poem was incorrectly ascribed to Lord Byron. A few lines will serve as a 
 specimen of the kind of wit it contains : 
 
 * * * " Next declare, 
 Muse, who his companions are. 
 Every fish of generous kind 
 Scuds aside, or slinks behind. 
 ***** 
 
 For his solace and relief, 
 
 Flat-fish are his courtiers chief. 
 
 Last and lowest in his train, 
 
 Ink-fish, libellers of the main, 
 
 Their black venom, shed in spite ; 
 
 Such on earth the things that write. 
 
 In his stomach, some do say, 
 
 No good thing can ever stay. 
 
 Had it been the fortune of it 
 
 To have sw allow' d that old prophet, 
 
 Three days there he'd not have dwelled, 
 
 But in one had been expelled." 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Barnes. 
 
 C. Lamb.
 
 376 
 
 Attic Chest Society. 
 
 CHAP, xv 
 
 Leigh 
 Hunt. 
 
 General 
 Franklin. 
 
 usual with Lamb. Leigh Hunt is an enthusiast, very 
 well-intentioned, and I believe prepared for the worst. 
 He said, pleasantly enough, " No one can accuse me of 
 not writing a libel. Everything is a libel, as the law 
 is now declared, and our security lies only in their 
 shame." He talked on the theatre, and showed on 
 such points great superiority over the others. 
 
 March i8t/t. Evening at Porden's, the Society of the 
 Attic Chest. This is a small society, the members of 
 which send verses, which are put into a box, and afford 
 an evening's amusement at certain intervals. The box 
 was actually made at Athens. Some verses, I suspect 
 by Miss Flaxman, on music, pleased me best. The 
 company was numerous the Rogets,* Phillips -f* the 
 painter, and his wife. Old General Franklin, son of the 
 celebrated Benjamin, was of the party. He is eighty- 
 four years of age, has a courtier-like mien, and must 
 have been a very fine man. He is now very animated 
 and interesting, but does not at all answer to the idea 
 one would naturally form of the son of the great 
 Franklin. 
 
 Rem.\ At these meetings Ellen Porden was generally 
 the reader, and she was herself a writer of poetry. She 
 even ventured to write an epic poem, called " Richard 
 the Second." When she presented a copy to Flaxman, 
 who loved her for her amiable qualities (and more than 
 amiable, for she was a good domestic character, an 
 excellent sister and daughter), he thanked her and said, 
 
 * Dr. Roget was the author of "Animal and Vegetable Physiology," one of 
 the Bridgewater Treatises, published in 1834. 
 
 t Afterwards R.A., and father of the recent R.A. of that name. 
 } Written in 1849.
 
 Sir John Franklin. 
 
 377 
 
 " Why, Ellen, my love, you've written a poem longer 
 than Homer." She married Captain, afterwards Sir 
 John Franklin. The marriage took place with an 
 express consent on her part to his making a second 
 voyage of discovery towards the North Pole, if the 
 Government should give its permission. Before he went 
 a daughter was born ; but her own health had become 
 so bad that her life was despaired of. I was one of the 
 few friends invited to the last dinner at his house before 
 his departure. Flaxman was of the party, and deeply 
 depressed in spirits. Captain F. took an opportunity in 
 the course of the evening to say to me, " My wife will 
 be left alone with the infant. You will do me a great 
 favour, if you will call on her as often as your engage- 
 ments permit." I promised. In a few days I went 
 to the Quarter Sessions, and before I returned Mrs. 
 Franklin was dead. 
 
 March 2$rd. With Lawrence, who showed me a 
 painting of Kemble as Cato, in the last scene, about to 
 inflict on himself the nobile letum. It is a very strong 
 likeness, as well as a very beautiful picture.* 
 
 March 26th. Dined with Messrs. Longman and Co. 
 at one of their literary parties. These parties were 
 famous in their day. Longman himself is a quiet 
 gentlemanly man. There were present Dr. Abraham 
 Rees,*f- a very good-humoured, agreeable companion, who 
 would in no respect disgrace a mitre ; " Russia " Tooke, 
 as he was called ; Sharon Turner,^ a chatty man, and 
 
 * This picture was exhibited the same year at Somerset House, No. 57 of 
 the Royal Academy Catalogue. 
 
 t His brother was a partner in Longman's house. 
 1 The historian. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Marriage 
 of Captain 
 Franklin. 
 
 Voyage to 
 
 the \o>-th 
 
 Pole. 
 
 Sir T. 
 Lawrence.
 
 378 
 
 Dinner at Longman's. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Dr. Abra- 
 ham Rees. 
 
 Lord 
 
 Thurlow 
 
 and the 
 
 Established 
 
 Church. 
 
 The 
 Aikins. 
 
 pleasant in his talk ; Abernethy, who did not say a 
 word ; and Dr. Holland,* the Iceland traveller. The 
 only one who said anything worth reporting was 
 Dr. Rees, the well-known Arian, " Encyclopaedic 
 Rees." He related that when, in 1788, Beaufoy 
 made his famous attempt to obtain the repeal of 
 the Corporation and Test Act, a deputation waited 
 on the Lord Chancellor Thurlow to obtain his 
 support. The deputies were Drs. Kippis, Palmer (of 
 Hackney), and Rees. The Chancellor heard them very 
 civilly, and then said, " Gentlemen, I'm against you, by 
 G . I am for the Established Church, d mme ! 
 Not that I have any more regard for the Established 
 Church than for any other church, but because it is 
 established. And if you can get your d d religion 
 established, I'll be for that too!" Rees told this story 
 with great glee. 
 
 April \2th. A call on the Aikins. The whole family 
 full of their praises of Charles Lamb. The Doctor 
 termed him a brilliant writer. The union of so much 
 eloquence with so much wit shows great powers of 
 mind. Miss Aikin was not less warm in her praise. 
 She asked why he did not write more. I mentioned, as 
 one cause, the bad character given him by the reviewers. 
 She exclaimed against the reviewers. I then spoke of 
 the Annual Review (Arthur Aikin, the editor, was 
 present), as having hurt him much by its notice of 
 "John Woodvil."-f- She exclaimed, "Oh! that Tommy ; 
 that such a fellow should criticise such a man as Lamb." 
 
 * Afterwards Sir Henry Holland, the Court Physician. 
 ) Lamb's Works, 1855, vol. iv. , p. 299.
 
 Covcnt Garden Theatre. 
 
 379 
 
 I then mentioned that some persons had attributed the 
 article to Mrs. Barbauld. I was impressed with the 
 sincerity and liberality of the Aikins, in acknowledging 
 a merit so unlike their own. They evinced a univer- 
 sality of taste which I had not supposed them to 
 possess. 
 
 April i^th. Met a Mr. Anderson, a north-country 
 divine, a hard-headed, shrewd man, of blunt manners, 
 who ought to have been chaplain to the Parliamentary 
 army at the commencement of the civil wars in the 
 time of Charles I. He is a laudator temporis pr<z- 
 scntis, rather than acti. He laughed heartily at old 
 Jameson's advertisement, that persons taking apart- 
 ments in his house "might be accommodated with 
 family prayer." 
 
 April 2Qth. Called on the Godwins.* They very 
 much admire Miss Flaxman's designs for "Robin Good- 
 fellow ;" but do not think they would sell. Parents are 
 now so set against all stories of ghosts, that fifty copies 
 of such designs would not be sold in a year. 
 
 April 2ist. Accompanied Cargill-f- to Covent Garden. 
 Mrs. Siddons in Mrs. Beverley. Her voice appeared to 
 have lost its brilliancy (like a beautiful face through a 
 veil) ; in other respects, however, her acting is as good 
 as ever. Her "Oh, that my eyes were basilisks!" was 
 her great moment in the play. Her smile was enchant- 
 ingly beautiful ; and her transitions of countenance 
 
 * Godwin was at this time largely engaged in publishing books for children. 
 He published Lamb's "Tales from Shakespeare," and Miss Lamb's "Mrs. 
 Leicester's School." 
 
 f A native of Jamaica, and a pupil of Thclwall. He studied the Law under 
 Serjeant Rough, by H. C. R.'s advice; but afterwards became a clergyman. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Mr. Ander- 
 son. 
 
 Mrs. Sid- 
 dons as 
 
 Mrs. 
 Beverley.
 
 3 8o 
 
 Hazlitfs Lecture. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Indian 
 
 Coleridge 
 on Kant. 
 
 had all the ease and freedom of youth. If she persist 
 in not playing Mrs. Beverley again, that character will, 
 I am confident, never be played with anything like 
 equal attractions. And without some great attraction 
 in the performers, such a play ought not to be re- 
 presented. It is a dull sermon ; the interest kept up 
 by commonplace incidents, and persons who are abso- 
 lutely no characters at all. Young did not look the 
 part of Beverley well. As Amyot says, he is a bad 
 waistcoat-and-breeches actor. 
 
 April 27 th. At Hazlitt's last lecture. Very well 
 delivered, and full of shrewd observation. At the close, 
 he remarked on the utility of metaphysics. He quoted 
 and half-assented to Hume's sceptical remark, that 
 perhaps they are not worth the study, but that there are 
 persons who can find no better mode of amusing them- 
 selves. He then related an Indian legend of a Brahmin, 
 who was so devoted to abstract meditation, that in the 
 pursuit of philosophy he quite forgot his moral duties, 
 and neglected ablution. For this he was degraded from 
 the rank of humanity, and transformed into a monkey. 
 But, even when a monkey, he retained his original pro- 
 pensities, for he kept apart from other monkeys, and 
 had no other delight than that of eating cocoanuts and 
 studying metaphysics. " I, too," said Hazlitt, " should 
 be very well contented to pass my life like this monkey, 
 did I but know how to provide myself with a substitute 
 for cocoanuts." 
 
 May ^rd. Left a card at Sir George Beaumont's for 
 Wordsworth. On my return a call on Coleridge. He 
 said that from Fichte and Schelling he has not gained
 
 Cowper. 
 
 any one great idea. To Kant his obligations are 
 infinite, not so much from what Kant has taught him in 
 the form of doctrine, as from the discipline gained in 
 studying the great German philosopher. Coleridge is 
 indignant at the low estimation in which the post- 
 Kantianers affect to hold their master. 
 
 Rem* May 5 th. This day I saw at the exhibition a 
 picture by Turner, the impression of which still remains. 
 It seemed to me the most marvellous landscape I had 
 ever seen, Hannibal crossing the Alps in a storm. I 
 can never forget it.-f 
 
 May 6th. R. says Johnson, the bookseller, made at 
 least ; 1 0,000 by Cowper's poems. The circumstances 
 show the hazard of bookselling speculations. Cowper's 
 first volume of poems was published by Johnson, and 
 fell dead from the press. Author and publisher were 
 to incur equal loss. Cowper begged Johnson to forgive 
 him his debt, and this was done. In return, Cowper sent 
 Johnson his "Task," saying, "You behaved generously 
 to me on a former occasion ; if you think it safe to 
 publish this new work, I make you a present of it." 
 Johnson published it. It became popular. The former 
 volume was then sold with it. When Cowper's friends 
 proposed his translating " Homer," Johnson said, " I 
 owe Cowper much for his last book, and will therefore 
 assist in the publication of ' Homer ' without any com- 
 pensation. The work shall be published by subscrip- 
 tion. I will take all the trouble and risk, and Cowper 
 
 * Written in 1849. 
 
 t The picture is now in the National Gallery, Turner Collection. It was 
 No. 258 of the Somerset House Catalogue, and entitled "Snow Storm: 
 Hannibal and his Army crossing the Alps. J. M. W. TURNER, R.A." 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Turner. 
 
 Johnson, 
 the book- 
 seller, and 
 Couuper s 
 Task.
 
 382 
 
 Talk with Wordsworth. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Words- 
 worth on 
 his own 
 
 Poems. 
 
 shall have all the profit." Johnson soon had occasion 
 to inform the poet that a thousand pounds were at his 
 disposal. 
 
 May %th. A visit from Wordsworth, who stayed 
 with me from between twelve and one till past 
 three. I then walked with him to Newman Street. 
 His conversation was long and interesting. He spoke 
 of his own poems with the just feeling of confidence 
 which a sense of his own excellence gives him. He is 
 now convinced that he never can derive emolument 
 from them ; but, being independent, he willingly gives 
 up all idea of doing so. He is persuaded that if men 
 are to become better and wiser, the poems will sooner 
 or later make their way. But if we are to perish, and 
 society is not to advance in civilization, " it would be," 
 said he, " wretched selfishness to deplore the want of any 
 personal reputation." The approbation he has met with 
 from some superior persons compensates for the loss 
 of popularity, though no man has completely under- 
 stood him, not excepting Coleridge, who. is not happy 
 enough to enter into his feelings. " I am myself," said 
 Wordsworth, " one of the happiest of men ; and no man 
 who does not partake of that happiness, who lives a life 
 of constant bustle, and whose felicity depends on the 
 opinions of others, can possibly comprehend the best 
 of my poems." I urged an excuse for those who can 
 really enjoy the better pieces, and who yet are offended 
 by a language they have by early instruction been 
 taught to consider unpoetical ; and Wordsworth seemed 
 to tolerate this class, and to allow that his admirers 
 should undergo a sort of education to his works.
 
 Evening at Charles Aikin's. 
 
 383 
 
 May nth. Called at Coleridge's, where I found the 
 Lambs. I had just heard of the assassination of Mr. 
 Perceval, which had taken place about an hour and a 
 half before. The news shocked Coleridge exceedingly, 
 and he was at once ready to connect the murder with 
 political fanaticism, Burdett's speeches, &c. Charles 
 Lamb was apparently affected, but could not help 
 mingling humour with his real concern at the event.* 
 
 Spent the evening at Miss Benger's.-f- Miss Jane 
 Porter^: there. Her stately figure and graceful manners 
 made an impression on me. Few ladies have been so 
 gifted with personal attractions, and at the same 'time 
 been so respectable as authors. 
 
 May i^th. Wordsworth accompanied me to Charles 
 Aikin's. Mrs. Barbauld, the Aikins, Miss Jane Porter, 
 Montgomery the poet, Roscoe,1T son of the Liverpool 
 Roscoe, &c. The most agreeable circumstance of the 
 evening was the homage involuntarily paid to the poet. 
 Everybody was anxious to get near him. One lady 
 
 * About this time there was an attack on Charles Lamb in the Quarterly 
 Review, in an article on Weber's edition of ' ' Ford's Works. " Lamb was 
 called a "poor maniac." It was this attack which occasioned and justified 
 Lamb's sonnet, "St. Crispin to Mr. Gifford," a happy jeu d 'esprit. That 
 Charles Lamb had, for ever so short a time, been in confinement was not 
 known to me till the recent disclosure in Talfourd's "Final Memorials." 
 H. C. R. 
 
 \ Miss Benger obtained considerable literary celebrity as a writer of historical 
 biographies. She was much esteemed in the circle of friends to which she was 
 introduced on first coming to London. Among these friends were Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld, Miss Aikin, Mrs. Joanna Baillie, Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton, Dr. Aikin, 
 and Dr. Gregory. 
 
 { The authoress of " Thaddeus of Warsaw," and other popular novels. 
 
 Mr. Charles Aikin was then in practice as a medical man in Broad Street, 
 City. 
 
 <(f Probably William Stanley Roscoe. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Assassina- 
 tion of Mr. 
 Perceval. 
 
 Miss Jane 
 Porter. 
 
 Words- 
 worth at 
 
 Charles 
 Aikin s.
 
 334 
 
 Exhibition Pictures. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Politi<al 
 talk. 
 
 Flaxman. 
 
 Mrs. 
 Siddons. 
 
 was ludicrously fidgetty till she was within hearing. 
 A political dispute rather disturbed us for a time. 
 Wordsworth, speaking of the late assassination, and of 
 Sir Francis Burdett's speech ten days ago, said that 
 probably the murderer heard that speech, and that this, 
 operating on his mind in its diseased and inflamed state, 
 might be the determining motive to his act. This was 
 taken up as a reflection on Sir Francis Burdett, and 
 resented warmly by young Roscoe, who maintained that 
 the speech was a constitutional one, and asked what 
 the starving were to do ? " Not murder people," said 
 Wordsworth, " unless they mean to eat their hearts."* 
 
 May I5//Z. A call on Flaxman in the evening. He 
 spoke of Turner's landscape with great admiration, as 
 the best painting in the Exhibition. He praised parts 
 of Hilton's " Christ Healing the Blind," especially the 
 hands of the principal figures, and the contrasted 
 expression of the one expecting the operation of the 
 miracle, and the one on whom it has already taken 
 place. Miss Flaxman pointed out Allingham's " Grief 
 and Pity," and a landscape, " Sadac Seeking the Waters 
 of Oblivion." 
 
 May 19/7*. Went to Covent Garden Theatre. Mrs. 
 Siddons played Queen Catherine to perfection, and 
 Kemble as Wolsey, in the scene of his disgrace, was 
 greatly applauded. I think I never saw Mrs. Siddons's 
 pantomime in higher excellence. The dying scene was 
 
 * In a note to Mr. Robinson, dated two days after this visit, Wordsworth 
 says, " I have never been well since I met your city politicians ; yet I am con- 
 tent to pay this price for the knowledge of so pleasing a person as Mrs. Charles 
 Aikin, being quite an enthusiast when I find a woman whose countenance and 
 manners are what a woman's ought to be."
 
 Walk with Wordsworth. 
 
 385 
 
 represented with such truthfulness, as almost to go 
 beyond the bounds of beautiful imitation, viz. by shifting 
 her pillow with the restlessness of a person in pain, 
 and the suspended breath in moving, which usually 
 denotes suffering. It was, however, a most delightful 
 performance. 
 
 In an earlier part of the day heard part of Coleridge's 
 first lecture in Willis's Rooms.* As I was present only 
 about a quarter of an hour, I could not enter much into 
 his subject. I perceived that he was in a digressing 
 mood. He spoke of religion, the spirit of chivalry, the 
 Gothic reverence for the female sex, and a classification 
 of poetry into the ancient and the romantic. 
 
 May 2yd. Coleridge's second lecture. A beautiful 
 dissertation on the Greek drama. His analysis of the 
 trilogy of ALschylus, the " Agamemnon," &c., was in- 
 teresting ; and his account of the " Prometheus," and 
 his remarks on the " Antigone," were more connected 
 than when I heard him speak on the same subjects on a 
 former occasion. 
 
 May 2^th. A very interesting day. At half-past 
 ten joined Wordsworth in Oxford Road ; we then got 
 into the fields, and walked to Hampstead. I read to 
 him a number of Blake's poems, with some of which he 
 was pleased. He regarded Blake as having in him the 
 elements of poetry much more than either Byron or 
 Scott. We met Miss Joanna Baillie, and accompanied 
 her home. She is small in figure, and her gait is mean 
 and shuffling, but her manners are those of a well-bred 
 
 * A course on Shakespeare, with introductory matter on poetry, the drama, 
 and the stage. 
 
 VOL. I. C C 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 
 first lecture 
 
 of second 
 
 series. 
 
 The Greek 
 drama. 
 
 Blake. 
 
 Miss 
 Joanna 
 Baillie.
 
 3 86 
 
 Eaton in the Pillory. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Eaton in 
 the pillory. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 woman. She has none of the unpleasant airs too 
 common to literary ladies. Her conversation is sensible. 
 She possesses apparently considerable information, is 
 prompt without being forward, and 4ias a fixed judg- 
 ment of her own, without any disposition to force it on 
 others. Wordsworth said of her with warmth, " If I 
 had to present any one to a foreigner as a model of an 
 English gentlewoman, it would be Joanna Baillie." 
 
 May 26th. Walked to the Old Bailey to see D. I. 
 Eaton in the pillory.* As I expected, his punishment 
 of shame was his glory. The mob was not numerous, 
 but decidedly friendly to him. His having published 
 Paine's " Age of Reason " was not an intelligible offence 
 to them. I heard such exclamations as the following : 
 " Pillory a man for publishing a book shame ! " " I 
 wish old Sir Wicary was there, my pockets should not 
 be empty." "Religious liberty!" "Liberty of con- 
 science !" Some avowed their willingness to stand in 
 the pillory for a dollar. " This a punishment ? this 
 is no disgrace ! " As his position changed, and fresh 
 partisans were blessed by a sight of his round, grinning 
 face, shouts of "bravo !" arose from a new quarter. His 
 trial was sold on the spot. The whole affair was an 
 additional proof of the folly of the Ministers, who ought 
 to have known that such an exhibition would be a 
 triumph to the cause they meant to render infamous. 
 
 Heard Coleridge's third lecture. It was wholly on 
 
 * Daniel Isaac Eaton, the publisher of free theological works (Paine's 
 "Age of Reason," " Ecce Homo," &c.). He underwent not less than eight 
 prosecutions by Government for his publications. For publishing the third 
 part of the "Age of Reason" he suffered eighteen months' imprisonment. 
 He died in 1814. (D. I. Eaton is not to be confounded with David Eaton, a 
 bookseller, and the friend of Theophilus Lindsey.)
 
 Party at Miss Benger's. 
 
 387 
 
 the Greek drama, though he had promised that he 
 would to-day proceed to the modern drama. The 
 lecture itself excellent and very German. 
 
 May 2jtk. Went to Miss Benger's in the evening, 
 where I found a large party. Had some conversation 
 with Miss Porter. She won upon me greatly. I was 
 introduced to a character Miss Wesley, a niece of the 
 celebrated John, and daughter of Samuel Wesley. She 
 is said to be a devout and most actively benevolent 
 woman. Eccentric in her habits, but most estimable 
 in all the great points of character. A very lively little 
 body, with a round short person, in a constant fidget of 
 good-nature and harmless vanity. She has written 
 novels, which do not sell ; and is reported to have said, 
 when she was introduced to Miss Edgeworth, "We 
 sisters of the quill ought to know each other." She 
 said she had friends of all sects in religion, and was 
 glad she had, as she could not possibly become 
 uncharitable. She had been in Italy, and loved the 
 Italians for their warmth in friendship. Some one 
 remarked, " They are equally warm in their enmities." 
 She replied, "Of course they are." When I said I 
 loved the people of every country I had been in, she 
 said, in a tone which expressed much more than the 
 words, " How glad I am to hear you say so ! " 
 
 May 2tyh. Coleridge's fourth lecture. It was on 
 the nature of comedy about Aristophanes, &c. The 
 mode of treating the subject very German, and of 
 course much too abstract for his audience, which was 
 thin. Scarcely any ladies there. With such powers of 
 original thought and real genius, both philosophical and 
 
 C c 2 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Miss 
 Weslev. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 lecture.
 
 3 88 
 
 Evening at Morgan's. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Words- 
 worth on 
 
 Tarn 
 O Shanter. 
 
 Death 
 and Dr. 
 Hornbook. 
 
 poetical, as few men in any age have possessed, 
 Coleridge wants certain minor qualities, which would 
 greatly add to his efficiency and influence with the 
 public. Spent the evening at Morgan's. Both Cole- 
 ridge and Wordsworth there. Coleridge very meta- 
 physical. He adheres to Kant, notwithstanding all 
 Schelling has written, and maintains that from the 
 latter he has gained no new ideas. All Schelling has 
 said, Coleridge has either thought himself, or found 
 in Jacob Boehme.* Wordsworth talked very finely on 
 poetry. He praised Burns for his introduction to 
 "Tarn O'Shanter." Burns had given an apology for 
 drunkenness, by bringing together all the circum- 
 stances which can serve to render excusable what is 
 in itself disgusting ; thus interesting our feelings, and 
 making us tolerant of what would otherwise be not 
 endurable. 
 
 Wordsworth praised also the conclusion of " Death and 
 Dr. Hornbook." He compared this with the abrupt 
 prevention of the expected battle between Satan and 
 the archangel in " Paradise Lost ; " but the remark did 
 not bring its own evidence with it. I took occasion to 
 apply to Goethe the praise given to Burns for the 
 passagef quoted, and this led to my warm praise of the 
 German. Coleridge denied merit to " Torquato Tasso," 
 and talked of the impossibility of being a good poet 
 without being a good man, adducing at the same time 
 
 * The German Visionary and Theosophist (1575 1624) . 
 
 f The passage from Burns's "Vision" which H. C. R. afterwards quoted to 
 Goethe as resembling the Zueignung (dedication) to his own works. "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."
 
 Wordsivorth. 
 
 389 
 
 the immoral tendency of Goethe's works. To this I 
 demurred. 
 
 May ^ist. A day of great enjoyment. Walked to 
 Hampstead. Found Wordsworth demonstrating to 
 Hamond some of the points of his philosophical 
 theory. Speaking of his own poems, he said he valued 
 them principally as being a new power in the literary 
 world. Hamond's friend Miller * esteemed them for 
 their pure morality. Wordsworth said he himself 
 looked to the powers of mind they call forth, and the 
 energies they presuppose and excite as the standard by 
 which they should be tried. He expatiated also on his 
 fears lest a social war should arise between the poor and 
 the rich, the danger of which is aggravated by the vast 
 extension of the manufacturing system.*}* 
 
 Wordsworth defended earnestly the Church Establish- 
 ment. He even said he would shed his blood for it. 
 Nor was he disconcerted by a laugh raised against 
 him on account of his having before confessed that 
 he knew not when he had been in a church in his 
 own country. "All our ministers are so vile," said 
 he. The mischief of allowing the clergy to depend 
 on the caprice of the multitude he thought more than 
 outweighed all the evils of an Establishment. And in 
 this I agreed with him. 
 
 A clergyman with whom H. C. R. afterwards became intimate. 
 
 f This was a topic which at this time haunted alike Wordsworth and Southey. 
 Now that thirty-six years have elapsed, not only has the danger increased, but 
 the war has actually broken out ; and as evidence that men distinctly perceive 
 the fact, in France a word has been applied, not invented, which by implication 
 recognizes the fact. Society is divided into propriitaires and proUtaires. And 
 here we have an incessant controversy carried on by our political economists, as 
 to the respective claims of labour and capital. H. C. R., 1848. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Words- 
 worth on 
 his own 
 poems. 
 
 Words- 
 worth on 
 politic*.
 
 390 
 
 Mrs, Siddons. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Sir 
 
 Humphry 
 Davy. 
 
 Mrs. 
 Walter 
 Scott. 
 
 We are 
 Seven. 
 
 Mrs. 
 Siddons. 
 
 Dined with Wordsworth at Mr. Carr's.* Sir Humphry 
 and Lady Davy there. She and Sir H. seem to 
 have hardly finished their honeymoon. Miss Joanna 
 Baillie said to Wordsworth the other day, "We have 
 witnessed a picturesque happiness." Mrs. Walter Scott 
 was spoken of rather disparagingly, and Miss Baillie 
 gave her this good word : " When I visited her I 
 thought I saw a great deal to like. She seemed to 
 admire and look up to her husband. She was very kind 
 to her guests. Her children were well-bred, and the 
 house was in excellent order. And she had some smart 
 roses in her cap, and I did not like her the less for 
 that." 
 
 June yd. Wordsworth told me that, before his ballads 
 were published, Tobin implored him to leave out " We 
 are Seven," as a poem that would damn the book. It 
 became, however, one of the most popular. Words- 
 worth related this in answer to a remark that, by only 
 leaving out certain poems at the suggestion of some one 
 who knew the public taste, he might avoid giving 
 offence. 
 
 June $th. At Covent Garden. For the first time in 
 my life I saw Mrs. Siddons without any pleasure. It 
 was in the part of the Lady in " Comus." She was 
 dressed most unbecomingly, and had a low gipsy hat 
 with feathers hanging down the side. She looked old, 
 and I had almost said ugly. Her fine features were 
 lost in the distance. Even her declamation did not 
 
 * Carr was Solicitor to the Excise a clever man, whom I visited occasionally 
 at Hampstead. His eldest daughter married Dr. Lushington. His youngest 
 married Rolfe (Lord Cranworth), after the latter became one of the best of 
 judges. H. C. R., 1849.
 
 De Quincey. 
 
 391 
 
 please me. She spoke in too tragic a tone for the 
 situation and character. 
 
 June 6th. Lent " Peter Bell " to Charles Lamb. To 
 my surprise, he does not like it. He complains of the 
 slowness of the narrative, as if that were not the art of 
 the poet. He says Wordsworth has great thoughts, but 
 has left them out here. In the perplexity arising from 
 the diverse judgments of those to whom I am accus- 
 tomed to look up, I have no resource but in the deter- 
 mination to disregard all opinions, and trust to the 
 simple impression made on my own mind. When Lady 
 Mackintosh was once stating to Coleridge her dis- 
 regard of the beauties of nature, which men commonly 
 affect to admire, he said his friend Wordsworth had 
 described her feeling, and quoted three lines from " Peter 
 
 1 ' A primrose by a river's brim 
 A yellow primrose was to him, 
 And it was nothing more." 
 
 "Yes," said Lady Mackintosh, "that is precisely my 
 case." 
 
 June \jth. At four o'clock dined in the Hall* with 
 De Quincey, who was very civil to me, and cordially 
 invited me to visit his cottage in Cumberland. Like 
 myself, he is an enthusiast for Wordsworth. His person 
 is small, his complexion fair, and his air and manner 
 are those of a sickly and enfeebled man. From this 
 circumstance his sensibility, which I have no doubt is 
 genuine, is in danger of being mistaken for effeminate- 
 ness. At least coarser and more robustly healthful 
 persons may fall into this mistake. 
 
 * That is Middle Temple Hall. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 Peter Dell. 
 
 DeQuincey.
 
 392 
 
 Mrs. Duller. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Death of 
 
 Mrs. 
 Butler. 
 
 June 2()th. This evening Mrs. Siddons took her leave 
 of the stage. 
 
 Rem* About this time, July 2nd, 1812, my Diary 
 refers to the death of Mrs. Buller,-f- of those who never 
 in any way came before the public one of the most re- 
 markable women whom I have ever known. She was a 
 lady of family, belonging to the Bullers of Devonshire, 
 and had lived always at court. She said once, inci- 
 dentally, " The Prince Regent has, I believe, as high a 
 regard for me as for any one that is none at all. He 
 is incapable of friendship." On politics and on the 
 affairs of life she spoke with singular correctness and 
 propriety. On matters of taste she was altogether 
 antiquated. She was the friend of Mrs. Montague and 
 Mrs. Carter. She showed me in her bookcase some 
 bound quarto volumes, which she assured me consisted 
 of a translation of Plato by herself, in her own hand. 
 She was far advanced in years, and her death did not 
 come upon her unexpectedly. Not many days before 
 she died I called to make inquiries, and the servant, 
 looking in a book and finding my name there, told me 
 I was to be admitted. I found her pale as ashes, 
 bolstered up in an arm-chair. She received me with a 
 smile, and allowed me to touch her hand. " What are 
 you reading, Mr. Robinson ?" she said. " The wickedest 
 cleverest book in the English language, if you chance 
 to know it." " I have known the ' Fable of the Bees ' \ 
 more than fifty years." She was right in her guess. 
 
 * Written in 1849. \ For Mrs. Buller, see ante, page 318. 
 
 J The " Fable of the Bees; or, Private Vices Public Benefits." By Bernard 
 Maudeville, 1723. A work of great celebrity, or rather notoriety, in the last 
 century.
 
 Goethe s Dichtnng und Wahrheit. 
 
 393 
 
 July 26th. Finished Goethe's " Aus meinem Leben ; 
 Dichtung und Wahrheit." The book has given me great 
 delight. The detailed account of the ceremonies on 
 electing Joseph II. has great interest. Goethe unites the 
 .grace and perfect art of the most accomplished writer, 
 with a retention of all the childlike zeal and earnestness 
 which he felt when the impressions were first conveyed 
 to him. I know of no writer who can, like Goethe, blend 
 the feeling of youth with the skill and power of age. 
 Here a perfect masterpiece is produced by the exercise 
 of this rare talent. The account of the election of Joseph 
 derives a pathetic interest from the subsequent destruc- 
 tion of the German Empire. His own innocent boyish 
 amour with Gretchen is related with peculiar grace. The 
 characteristic sketches of the friends of his father are 
 felt by the reader to be portraits of old acquaintances. 
 How familiar the features of the old Hebrew master 
 seem to me, as he encourages the freethinking questions 
 of his pupil about the Jews by laughing, though nothing 
 is to be got by way of answer excepting " 'Ei ! narrischer 
 Junge ? " (" Eh ! foolish boy ? ") The florist, the admirer 
 of Klopstock, the father and grandfather, are all delight- 
 fully portrayed. And the remark Wordsworth made 
 on Burns is here also applicable, " The poet writes 
 humanely." There is not a single character who is 
 hated, certainly not the lying French player-boy, arrant 
 knave though he is. Perhaps Gretchen's kinsfolk are 
 the least agreeable of the minor characters. 
 
 August ^th. After tea called at Morgan's. The 
 ladies were at home alone. I took a walk with them 
 round the squares. They stated some particulars 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 Dichtung 
 
 und 
 Wahrheit. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 early life.
 
 394 
 
 Coleridge's Early Life. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 of Coleridge's family and early life, "which were new 
 and interesting to me. His father was a clergyman at 
 Ottery, in Devonshire. Judge Buller, when a young 
 man, lived many years in his family. Indeed he was 
 educated by him. On the death of Mr. Coleridge, 
 Buller went down to offer his services to the widow. 
 She said all her family were provided for, except the 
 tenth, a little boy. Buller promised to provide for him, 
 said he would send him to the Charterhouse, and put 
 him into some profession. Coleridge went to town, and 
 Buller placed him in the Blue-Coat School. The 
 family, being proud, thought themselves disgraced by 
 this. His brothers would not let him visit them in the 
 school dress, and he would not go in any other. The 
 Judge (whether he was judge then I cannot tell) invited 
 him to his house to dine every Sunday. One day, 
 however, there was company, and the blue-coat boy was 
 sent to a second table. He was then only nine years 
 old, but he would never go to the house again. Thus 
 he lost his only friend in London ; and having no one 
 to care for him or show him kindness, he passed away 
 his childhood wretchedly. But he says he was thus led 
 to become a good scholar, for, that he might forget his 
 misery, he had his book always in his hand. 
 
 Coleridge and Morgan came back to supper. Cole- 
 ridge was in good spirits. He is about to turn again to 
 Jean Paul. 
 
 August \2th. Paid a visit to Flaxman in his lodgings 
 at Blackheath, and spent the night there. On the 
 following morning I returned with him to town and 
 accompanied him to Burlington House to see Lord
 
 Flaxman and Chantrey on the Elgin Marbles. 395 
 
 Elgin's Marbles. The new cargo was not. yet unpacked. 
 I have neither the learning nor the taste of an artist, 
 but it was interesting even to me to behold fragments 
 of architectural ornaments from cities celebrated by 
 Homer. Flaxman affirmed with confidence that some 
 of the fragments before us were in existence before 
 Homer's time. A stranger came in, whom I afterwards 
 understood to be Chantrey. Flaxman said to him, laying 
 his hand on a piece of stone, " The hand of Phidias was 
 on that!" The stranger remarked that there was one 
 leg which could not have been by Phidias. The stranger 
 conjectured that some ornaments on a sarcophagus were 
 meant to represent the lotus. Two sorts of lotus and 
 the egg, he said, were three of the most sacred objects 
 of antiquity, and were found carved on urns. The 
 lotus, he thought, was the origin of the cornucopia. 
 
 At six I went by appointment to Coleridge, with 
 whom I spent several hours alone, and most agreeably. 
 I read to him a number of scenes out of the new "Faust." 
 He had before read the earlier edition. He now 
 acknowledged the genius of Goethe as he has never 
 before acknowledged it. At the same time, the want of 
 religion and enthusiasm in Goethe, is in Coleridge's 
 estimation an irreparable defect. The beginning of 
 "Faust" did not please Coleridge. Nor does he think 
 Mephistopheles a character. He had, however, nothing 
 satisfactory to oppose to my remark that Mephis- 
 topheles ought to be a mere abstraction, and no cha- 
 racter. I read to Coleridge the Zueignung, and he 
 seemed to admire it greatly. He had been reading 
 Stolberg lately, of whom he seems to have a sufficiently 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Elgin 
 Marbles. 
 
 Chantrey. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on Faust.
 
 39 6 
 
 Coleridge on Goethe's Faust. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Schiller. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 high opinion. He considers Goethe's " Mahomets 
 Gesang" an imitation of Stolberg's " Felsenstrom ;" but 
 the "Felsenstrom" is simply a piece of animated descrip- 
 tion, without any higher import, while Goethe's poem is a 
 profound and significant allegory, exhibiting the nature 
 of religious enthusiasm. The prologue in heaven to 
 " Faust" did not offend Coleridge as I thought it would, 
 from its being a parody on Job. Coleridge said of Job, 
 this incomparable poem has been most absurdly inter- 
 preted. Far from being the most patient of men, Job 
 was the most impatient. And he was rewarded for his 
 impatience. His integrity and sincerity had their recom- 
 pense because he was superior to the hypocrisy of his 
 friends. Coleridge praised " Wallenstein," but censured 
 Schiller for a sort of ventriloquism in poetry. By-the-by, 
 a happy term to express that common fault of throw- 
 ing the sentiments and feelings of the writer into the 
 bodies of other persons, the characters of the poem. 
 
 August 2Qth. More talk with Coleridge about "Faust." 
 The additions in the last edition he thinks the finest 
 parts. He objects that the character of Faust is not 
 motivirt. He would have it explained how he is thrown 
 into a state of mind which led to the catastrophe. The 
 last stage of the process is given. Faust is wretched. 
 He has reached the utmost that finite powers can attain, 
 and he yearns for infinity. Rather than be finitely 
 good, he would be infinitely miserable. This is indeed 
 reducing the wisdom and genius of Goethe's incompar- 
 able poem to a dull, commonplace, moral idea ; but I 
 do not give it as the thing, only the abstract form. All 
 final results and most general abstractions are, when
 
 Hampstcad. 
 
 397 
 
 thus reduced, seemingly trite. Coleridge talks of 
 writing a new Faust! He would never get out of 
 vague conceptions he would lose himself in dreams ! 
 In the spirited sketch he gave of Goethe's work, I 
 admired his power of giving interest to a prose state- 
 ment. 
 
 September 6th, A delightful walk with my friend 
 Amyot* He told some anecdotes of Dr. Parr, whom 
 he knew. The Doctor was asked his opinion on some 
 subject of politics ; with an affectation of mystery and 
 importance he replied, " I am not fond of speaking on 
 the subject. If I were in my place in the House of 
 Lords, I should, &c. &c" 
 
 I3///. A delightful day. The pleasantest walk by 
 far I have had this summer. The very rising 
 from one's bed at Hamond's house is an enjoyment 
 worth going to Hampstead overnight to partake of. 
 The morning scene from his back-room is exceedingly 
 beautiful. We breakfasted at seven. He and his sis- 
 ters accompanied me beyond The Spaniards, and down 
 some fields opposite Kenwood. The wet grass sent 
 them back, and I went on (rather out of my way) till 
 I entered the Barnet road just before the west end of 
 Finchley Common. I crossed the common obliquely, 
 and, missing the shortest way, came to a good turnpike 
 road at Colney Hatch. On the heath I was amused 
 by the novel sight of gipsies. The road from Colney 
 Hatch to Southgate very pleasing indeed. Southgate 
 a delightful village. No distant prospect from the 
 green, but there are fine trees admirably grouped, 
 
 * See p. 25. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Dr. Parr. 
 
 A walk.
 
 398 
 
 Enfield Green. 
 
 CHAP, xv, 
 1812. 
 
 A walk 
 to Enfield. 
 
 Edinburgh 
 
 Review, 
 
 article on 
 
 ants. 
 
 and neat and happy houses scattered in picturesque 
 corners and lanes. The great houses, Duchess of 
 Chandos', &c., have, I suppose, a distant view. I then 
 followed a path to Winchmore Hill, and another to 
 Enfield : the last through some of the richest verdure 
 I ever saw. The hills exquisitely undulating. Very 
 fine clumps of oak-trees. Enfield town, the large white 
 church, the serpentine New River, Mr. Mellish's house, 
 with its woody appendages, form a singularly beautiful 
 picture. I reached Enfield at about half-past ten, and 
 found Anthony Robinson happy with his family. As 
 usual, I had a very pleasant day with him. Our chat 
 interesting and uninterrupted. Before dinner we 
 lounged round the green, and saw the Cedar of 
 Lebanon which once belonged to Queen Elizabeth's 
 palace, of which only a chimney now remains. A little 
 after five I set out on my walk homeward, through 
 Hornsey and Islington. Till I came to Hornsey 
 Church, where I was no longer able to see, I was 
 occupied during my walk in reading Schlegel's " Vorle- 
 sungen ; " his account of yEschylus and Sophocles, 
 and their plays, very excellent. I was especially 
 interested in his account of the Trilogy. How glad 
 I should be to have leisure to translate such a work 
 as this of Schlegel's ! I reached my chambers about 
 nine. Rather fatigued, though my walk was not a 
 long one only eighteen or twenty miles. 
 
 September iqth. After an early dinner walked to 
 Blackheath, reading a very amusing article in the Edin- 
 burgh Review about ants. I cannot, however, enter into 
 the high enjoyment which some persons have in such
 
 Talk at C. Aikiris. 
 
 399 
 
 subjects. What, after all, is there that is delightful or 
 soul-elevating in contemplating countless myriads of 
 animals, endowed with marvellous powers, which lead to 
 nothing beyond the preservation of individual existence, 
 or rather the preservation of a race ? The effect is 
 rather sad than animating ; for the more wonderful their 
 powers are, the more elaborately complex and more 
 curiously fitted to their end, and the more they resemble 
 those of human beings, the less apparent absurdity is 
 there in the supposition that our powers should cease 
 with their present manifestation. For my part, I am 
 convinced that the truths and postulates of religion 
 have their sole origin and confirmation in conscience and 
 the moral sense. 
 
 September 2ist. Took tea at C. Aikin's. A chat 
 about Miss Edgeworth. Mrs. Aikin willing to find in 
 her every excellence, whilst I disputed her power of in- 
 teresting in a long connected tale, and her possession of 
 poetical imagination. In her numerous works she has 
 certainly conceived and executed a number of forms, 
 which, though not representatives of ideas, are excellent 
 characters. Her sketches and her conceptions of ordi- 
 nary life are full of good sense ; but the tendency of her 
 writings to check enthusiasm of every kind is of very 
 problematical value. 
 
 Oct. yd. Coleridge walked with me to A. Robinson's 
 for my Spinoza, which I lent him. While standing in 
 the room he kissed Spinoza's face in the title-page, and 
 said, " This book is a gospel to me."* But in less than a 
 
 * Mr. H. C. Robinson's copy of the works of Spinoza is now in the library 
 of Manchester New College, London, with marginalia from the hand of 
 Coleridge. They are limited to the first part of the Ethica, " De Deo ; " and to 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Miss 
 Edgeworth. 
 
 Spinoza.
 
 400 
 
 Spinoza. Coleridge. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 minute he added, " his philosophy is nevertheless false. 
 Spinoza's system has been demonstrated to be false, but 
 only by that philosophy which has demonstrated the 
 falsehood of all other philosophies. Did philosophy 
 commence with an it is, instead of an / am, Spinoza 
 would be altogether true." And without allowing a 
 
 some letters in his correspondence, especially with Oldenburg, one of the 
 earliest secretaries of the Royal Society in London. It appears from these 
 marginal notes, that Coleridge heartily embraced Spinoza's fundamental posi- 
 tion of the Divine Immanence in all things, as distinguished from the ordinary 
 anthropomorphic conceptions of God, but was anxious to guard it from the pan- 
 theistic conclusions which might be supposed to result from it, and to clear it 
 from the necessarian and materialistic assumptions with which he thought Spi- 
 noza himself had gratuitously encumbered it. Everywhere Coleridge distinctly 
 asserts the Divine Intelligence and the Divine Will against the vague, negative 
 generality in which Spinoza's overpowering sense of the incommensurability of 
 the Divine and the Human had left them ; and strenuously contends for the free- 
 dom of human actions as the indispensable basis of a true theory of morals. 
 " It is most necessary," he says, in a note on Propos. xxviii. (of the first part of 
 the Ethics), " to distinguish Spinozism from Spinoza i.e. the necessary conse- 
 quences of the immanence in God as the one only necessary Being whose essence 
 involves existence, with the deductions from Spinoza's own mechanic realistic 
 view of the world." " Even in the latter, " he continues, " I cannot accord with 
 Jacobi's assertion, that Spinozism as taught by Spinoza is atheism ; for though he 
 will not consent to call things essentially disparate by the same name, and therefore 
 denies human intelligence to Deity, yet he adores his ,Wisdom, and expressly 
 declares the identity of Love, i.e. perfect virtue or concentric will in the human 
 being, and that with which the Supreme loves himself, as all in all." " Never," 
 he concludes, "has a great man been so hardly and inequitably treated by pos- 
 terity as Spinoza : no allowances made for the prevalence, nay universality, of 
 dogmatism and the mechanic system in his age ; no trial, except in Germany, 
 to adopt the glorious truths into the family of Life and Power. What if we 
 treated Bacon with the same harshness !" 
 
 One other note on the same subject (appended to Epist. xxxvi.) is so charac- 
 teristic, and in so beautiful a spirit, that it ought to be transcribed : 
 
 "The truth is, Spinoza, in common with all the metaphysicians before him 
 (Bohme perhaps excepted), began at the wrong end, commencing with God as 
 an object. Had he, though still dogmatizing objectively, begun with the natura 
 naturans in its simplest terms, he must have proceeded on ' per intelligen- 
 tiam' to the subjective, and having reached the other pole = idealism, or the ' I/ 
 he would have reprogressed to the equatorial point, or the identity of subject
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 401 
 
 breathing time, Coleridge parenthetically asserted, " I, 
 however, believe in all the doctrines of Christianity, 
 even the Trinity." A. Robinson afterwards observed, 
 " Coleridge has a comprehensive faith and love." Con- 
 trary to my expectation, however, he was pleased with 
 these outbursts, rather than offended by them. They 
 impressed him with the poet's sincerity. Coleridge 
 informs me that his tragedy is accepted at Drury Lane. 
 Whitbread * admires it exceedingly, and Arnold, the 
 manager, is confident of its success. Coleridge says 
 he is now about to compose lectures, which are to be 
 the produce of all his talent and power, on education. 
 Each lecture is to be delivered in a state in which it 
 may be sent to the press. 
 
 October iQth. Dined at the Hall. A chatty party. 
 
 It is said that Lady invited H. Twiss to dinner, 
 
 and requested him to introduce an amusing friend or 
 two. He thought of the authors of the " Rejected 
 Addresses," and invited James Smith and his brother 
 to come in the evening of a day on which he himself 
 was to dine with her ladyship. Smith wrote, in 
 
 and object ; and would thus have arrived finally not only at the clear idea of 
 God, as absolute Being, the ground of all existents (for so far he did reach, and 
 to charge him with atheism is a gross calumny), but likewise at the faith in the 
 living God, who hath the ground of his own existence in himself. That this 
 would have been the result, had he lived a few years longer, I think his 
 Epist. Ixxii. authorizes us to believe ; and of so .pure a soul, so righteous a 
 spirit as Spinoza, I dare not doubt that this potential fact is received by the 
 Eternal as actual." 
 
 In the epistle here referred to, Spinoza expresses his intention, should his life 
 be spared, of defining more clearly his ideas concerning ' ' the eternal and infinite 
 Essence in relation to extension," which he thought Des Cartes had wrongly 
 taken as the definition of Matter. J. J. T. 
 
 * Mr. S. Whitbread, M.P., was a propietor of shares in Drury Lane Theatre, 
 and through friendship for Sheridan took an active part in its affairs. 
 VOL. I. D D 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812. 
 
 James and 
 Horace 
 Smith.
 
 4O2 
 
 William Huntington, S.S. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Hunting- 
 ton. 
 
 answer, that he was flattered by the polite invitation, 
 but it happened unluckily that both he and his 
 brother had a prior engagement at Bartholomew Fair 
 he to eat fire and his brother to swallow 200 yards of 
 ribbon. 
 
 October 22nd. Heard W. Huntington preach, the 
 man who puts S. S. (sinner saved) after his name.* He 
 has an admirable exterior ; his voice is clear and melo- 
 dious ; his manner singularly easy, and even graceful. 
 There was no violence, no bluster, yet there was no 
 want of earnestness or strength. His language was 
 very figurative, the images being taken from the ordi- 
 nary business of life, and especially from the army and 
 navy. He is very colloquial, and has a wonderful Biblical 
 memory ; indeed, he is said to know the whole Bible 
 by heart. I noticed that, though he was frequent in 
 his citations, and always added chapter and verse, he 
 never opened the little book he had in his hand. He is 
 said to resemble Robert Robinson of Cambridge. There 
 was nothing shrewd or original in the sermon to-day, 
 but there was hardly any impropriety. I detected but 
 a single one : Huntington said, " Take my word for it, 
 my friends, they who act in this way will not be beloved 
 by God, or by anybody else" 
 
 December \^th. Hamond mentioned that recently, 
 when he was on the Grand Jury, and they visited New- 
 
 * He thus explained his adoption of these mysterious letters : " M.A. is out 
 of my reach for want of learning, D.D. I cannot attain for want of cash, but. 
 S.S. I adopt, by which I mean sinner saved." His portrait is in the National 
 Portrait Gallery. He commenced his own epitaph thus : " Here lies the coal- 
 heaver, beloved of God, but abhorred of men." He died at Tunbridge Wells in 
 1813. His published works extend to twenty volumes.
 
 Family Religion. 
 
 403 
 
 gate prison, he proposed inquiring of Cobbett whether 
 he had anything to complain of.* Cobbett answered, 
 "Nothing but the being here." Hamond said, the 
 reverent bows his fellow-jurymen made to Cobbett 
 were quite ludicrous. 
 
 December 2Oth, Sunday. A large family party' at the 
 Bischoffs, of which not the least agreeable circumstance 
 was, that there was a family religious service. There is 
 something most interesting and amiable in family devo- 
 tional exercise, when, as in this instance, there is nothing 
 austere or ostentatious. Indeed everything almost that 
 is done by a family, as such, is good. Religion assumes 
 a forbidding aspect only when it is mingled with impure 
 feelings, as party animosity, malignant intolerance, and 
 contempt. 
 
 Dec. 2yd. Saw " Bombastes Furioso " and " Midas." 
 In both Listen was less funny than usual. Is it that he 
 has grown fatter ? Droll persons should be very fat or 
 very thin. Mathews is not good as the king in " Bom- 
 bastes." He is excellent chiefly as a mimic, or where 
 rapidity of transition or volubility is required. 
 
 Rem.-\- It was in the early part of this year that 
 dear Mrs. Barbauld incurred great reproach by writing 
 a poem entitled "1811." It is in heroic rhyme, and 
 prophesies that on some future day a traveller from the 
 antipodes will, from a broken arch of Blackfriars Bridge, 
 contemplate the ruins of St. Paul's ! ! This was written 
 more in sorrow than in anger ; but there was a dis- 
 
 In 1810 Cobbett was tried for publishing certain observations on the flog- 
 ging of some militiamen at Ely. He was sentenced to pay a fine of 1,000, 
 or be imprisoned for two years ; he chose the latter. 
 
 f Written in 1849. 
 
 I) 1) 2 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 1812. 
 Cobbett. 
 
 Family 
 religion. 
 
 Liston and 
 Mathews. 
 
 Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld ' s 
 "1811."
 
 404 
 
 Misunderstanding between 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 
 Misunder- 
 standing 
 between 
 Words- 
 ivor th and 
 Coleridge. 
 
 heartening and even gloomy tone, which even I with all 
 my love for her could not quite excuse. It provoked a 
 very coarse review in the Quarterly, which many years 
 afterwards Murray told me he was more ashamed of 
 than any other article in the Review. 
 
 [During this year a misunderstanding arose between 
 Coleridge and Wordsworth, to which, as " all's well that 
 ends well," it is not improper to allude. The cause of 
 the misunderstanding was the repetition to Coleridge, 
 with exaggerations, of what, with a kindly intent, had 
 been said respecting him by Wordsworth to a third 
 person. C. Lamb thought a breach would inevitably 
 take place, but Mr. Robinson determined to do all he 
 could to prevent such a misfortune. Accordingly he set 
 about the work of mediation, and he certainly did his 
 part most thoroughly. Going repeatedly from one friend 
 to the other, he was able to offer such explanations and 
 to give such assurances that the ground of complaint 
 was entirely removed, and the old cordiality was restored 
 between two friends who, as he knew, loved and 
 honoured each other sincerely. In these interviews he 
 was struck alike with the feeling and eloquence of the 
 one, and the integrity, purity, and delicacy shown by the 
 other. On the nth of May he went to Coleridge's, and 
 found Lamb with him. The assassination of Mr. Per- 
 ceval had just taken place.* The news deeply affected 
 them, and they could hardly talk of anything else ; but 
 the Diary has this entry : " Coleridge said to me, in a 
 half-whisper, that Wordsworth's letter had been per- 
 fectly satisfactory, and that he had answered it imme- 
 
 * See p. 377.
 
 Wordsworth and Coleridge. 
 
 405 
 
 diately. I flatter myself, therefore, that my pains will 
 not have been lost, and that through the interchange of 
 statement, which but for me would probably never have 
 been made, a reconciliation will have taken place most 
 desirable and salutary."* ED.] 
 
 * The Diary Contains many details on this subject ; but it has not been 
 thought necessary to give them a place in these selections. 
 
 CHAP. xv. 
 1812.
 
 406 First Performance of Coleridge's "Remorse" 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 Remorse. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 1813. 
 
 January 2$rd. In the evening at Drury Lane, to 
 see the first performance of Coleridge's tragedy, 
 " Remorse." * I sat with Amyot, the Hamonds, 
 Godwins, &c. My interest for the play was greater 
 than in the play, and my anxiety for its success took 
 from me the feeling of a mere spectator. I have no 
 hesitation in saying that its poetical is far greater than 
 its dramatic merit, that it owes its success rather to its 
 faults than to its beauties, and that it will have for its 
 [ess meritorious qualities applause which is really due 
 to its excellences. Coleridge's great fault is that he 
 indulges before the public in those metaphysical and 
 philosophical speculations which are becoming only in 
 solitude or with select minds. His two principal 
 characters are philosophers of Coleridge's own school ; 
 the one a sentimental moralist, the other a sophisticated 
 villain both are dreamers. Two experiments made by 
 Alvez on his return, the one on his mistress by relating 
 a dream, and the other when he tries to kindle remorse 
 
 * Coleridge had complained to me of the way in which Sheridan spoke in 
 company of his tragedy. He told me that Sheridan had said that in the 
 original copy there was in the famous cave scene this line, 
 
 "Drip! Drip! Drip! There's nothing here but dripping." 
 rlowever, there was every disposition to do justice to it on the stage, nor 
 .vere the public unfavourably disposed towards it.
 
 Coleridge's Lecture. 
 
 407 
 
 in the breast of Ordonio, are too fine-spun to be intel- 
 ligible. However, in spite of these faults, of the .im- 
 probability of the action, of the clumsy contrivance 
 with the picture, and the too ornate and poetic diction 
 throughout, the tragedy was received with great and 
 almost unmixed applause, and was announced for 
 repetition without any opposition. 
 
 January 26th. Heard Coleridge's concluding lecture. 
 He was received with three rounds of applause on 
 entering the room, and very loudly applauded during 
 the lecture and at its close. That Coleridge should 
 ever become a popular man would at one time have 
 been thought a very vain hope. It depends on himself; 
 and if he would make a sacrifice of some peculiarities 
 of taste (his enemies assert that he has made many on 
 essential points of religion and politics), he has talents 
 to command success. His political opinions will suit a 
 large portion of the public ; and, though not yet a 
 favourite with the million, the appreciation of his 
 genius is spreading. 
 
 February 2nd. I went with Aders to see Coleridge, 
 who spoke to my German friend of Goethe with more 
 warmth than usual. He said that if he seemed to 
 depreciate Goethe it was because he compared him 
 with the greatest of poets. He thought Goethe had, 
 from a sort of caprice, underrated the talent which in 
 his youth he had so eminently displayed in his 
 " Werter " that of exhibiting man in a state of 
 exalted sensibility. In after life he delighted in 
 representing objects of pure beauty, not objects of 
 desire and passion rather as statues or paintings 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 Coleridge's 
 last lecture. 
 
 Coleridge 
 on Goethe.
 
 408 
 
 Talfourd. 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 Examina- 
 tion. 
 
 Talfourd. 
 
 therefore he called Goethe picturesque. Coleridge 
 accused Schlegel of one-sidedness in his excessive 
 admiration of Shakespeare. 
 
 February 2$rd. I underwent a sort of examination 
 from Mr. Hollist, the Treasurer of the Middle Temple. 
 He inquired at what University I had been educated, 
 and this caused me to state that I was a Dissenter, and 
 had studied at Jena. This form being ended, all impe- 
 diments to my being called to the Bar next term are 
 cleared away. 
 
 This day a Mr. Talfourd called with a letter from 
 Mr. Rutt ; he is going to study the law, and wants infor- 
 mation from me concerning economical arrangements ; 
 he has been for some time Dr. Valpy's head boy, and 
 wishes, for a few years, to occupy himself by giving 
 instruction or otherwise, so as to be no incumbrance 
 to his father, who has a large family. He is a very 
 promising young man indeed, has great powers of con- 
 versation and public speaking, not without the faults of 
 his age, but with so much apparent vigour of mind, that 
 I am greatly mistaken if he do not become a distin- 
 guished man. 
 
 February 2^th. Attended a conference in the vestry 
 of the Gravel Pit Meeting, Mr. Aspland presiding. The 
 subject was " Infant Baptism." Young Talfourd spoke 
 in a very spirited manner, but in too oratorical a tone.* 
 We walked from Hackney together ; his youthful ani- 
 mation and eagerness excited my envy. It fell from 
 
 * In his early life Mr. Talfourd was a Dissenter, and occasionally took part in 
 the conferences held in the vestry at the Gravel Pit Meeting, Hackney, to discuss 
 religious subjects.
 
 Talfourd. 
 
 409 
 
 him accidentally, that a volume of poems, written by 
 him when at school, had been printed, but that he was 
 ashamed of them. 
 
 Rcm* Talfourd combined great industry with great 
 vivacity of intellect. He had a marvellous flow of 
 florid language both in conversation and speech-making. 
 His father being unable to maintain him in his pro- 
 fession, he had to support himself, which he did most 
 honourably. He went into the chambers of Chitty, the 
 great special pleader, as a pupil ; but he submitted, for 
 a consideration, to drudgery which would be thought 
 hardly compatible with such lively faculties, and at 
 variance with his dramatic and poetic taste. These, 
 too, he made to a certain extent matters of business. 
 He connected himself with magazines, and became the 
 theatrical critic for several of them. He thereby con- 
 tracted a style of flashy writing, which offended severe 
 judges, who drew in consequence unfavourable con- 
 clusions which have not been realized. He wrote pam- 
 phlets, which were printed in the Pamphleteer, published 
 by his friend Valpy. Among these was a very vehement 
 eulogy of Wordsworth. He became intimate with 
 Lamb, who introduced him to Wordsworth. It was in 
 these words : " Mr. Wordsworth, I introduce to you 
 Mr. Talfourd, my only admirer" That he became in 
 after life the executor of Lamb and his biographer is 
 well known. Among his early intimacies was that with 
 the family of Mr. Rutt, to whose eldest daughter, Rachel, 
 he became attached. After a time Talfourd came to 
 me with the request that I would procure for him 
 
 * Written in 1847. 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 Talfourd.
 
 Talfourd. 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 employment as a reporter for the Times, that he might 
 be enabled to marry. This I did, and no one could fill 
 the office more honourably, as was acknowledged by his 
 associates on the Oxford Circuit. He made known at 
 once at the Bar mess what he was invited to do. Others 
 had done the same thing on other circuits secretly and 
 most dishonourably. Consent was given by the Bar of 
 his circuit ; and in this way, as a writer for papers and 
 magazines, and by his regular professional emoluments, 
 he honourably brought up a numerous family. As his 
 practice increased he gradually gave up writing for the 
 critical press, and also his office of reporting. But when 
 he renounced literature for emolument, he carried it on 
 for fame, and became a dramatic writer. His first 
 tragedy, " Ion," earned general applause, and in defiance 
 of the advice of prudent or timid friends he produced 
 two other tragedies.* He did not acquire equal repu- 
 tation for these ; probably a fortunate circumstance, as 
 literary fame is no recommendation either to an Attor- 
 ney or to a Minister who seeks for a laborious Solicitor- 
 General. It was after he was known as a dramatist 
 that Talfourd -f- obtained a seat in Parliament, where 
 he distinguished himself by introducing a bill in favour 
 of a copyright for authors, to which he was urged 
 mainly by Wordsworth, who had become his friend. 
 
 * "Ion " was produced at Covent Garden Theatre in May, 1836. The prin- 
 cipal character, first performed by Macready, was afterwards undertaken by 
 Miss Ellen Tree. Talfourd's second tragedy, "The Athenian Captive," in 
 which Macready played Thoas, was produced at the Haymarket, 1838. The 
 third and least successful was ' ' Glencoe, " first represented at the Haymarket, 
 May 23rd, 1840. Macready again played the hero. G. S. 
 
 ) Talfourd was Member for Reading, where he had been a pupil at the 
 Grammar School, under Dr. Valpy.
 
 Sir John Soane. 
 
 411 
 
 His bill, however, did not pass, and the work was 
 taken out of his hands. The Act * which at length 
 passed the legislature did not grant as much as Talfourd 
 asked for. The one Act which ought to be known by 
 his name, was one conferring on unhappy wives, sepa- 
 rated from their husbands, a right to have a sight of 
 their children. 
 
 Talfourd soon acquired popularity at the Bar, from 
 the mere faculty of speaking, as many have done who 
 were after all not qualified for heavy work. I might 
 have doubted of the Serjeant's qualifications in this 
 respect, but some years ago I heard the late Lord Chief 
 Justice Tindal praise him highly for judgment and 
 skill in the management of business. He said he was 
 altogether a successful advocate. No man got more 
 verdicts, and no man more deserved to get them. 
 Talfourd is a generous and kind-hearted man. To men 
 of letters and artists in distress, such as Leigh Hunt, 
 Haydon, &c., he was always very liberal. He did not 
 forget his early friends, and at the large parties he has 
 hitherto delighted to give, poets, players, authors of 
 every kind, were to be seen, together with barristers, 
 and now and then judges. 
 
 Feb. 26th, 1813. Went to the Royal Academy and 
 heard Sir John Soane deliver his third lecture on Archi- 
 tecture ; it was not very interesting, but the conclusion 
 was diverting. " As the grammarian has his positive, 
 comparative, and superlative, and as we say, ' My King, 
 my Country, and my God,' so ought the lover of fine 
 art to say, Painting, Sculpture, Architecture " ! ! ! 
 
 * This is always, however, spoken of as Talfourd s Act. 
 
 CHAP. xvr. 
 1813. 
 
 Sir John 
 Soane.
 
 412 
 
 Croly. 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 Mathews, 
 
 Mrs. 
 Jordan. 
 
 Croly. 
 
 Wdlesley. 
 
 March i8///. Went to Covent Garden. Saw " Love 
 "or Love."* Mathews, by admirable acting, gave to 
 Foresight a significance and truth strikingly contrasted 
 with the unmeaning insipidity of most of the other 
 characters. Mrs. Jordan played Miss Prue, and cer- 
 tainly with great spirit. She looked well, but her voice 
 has lost much of its sweetness and melody ; yet she is 
 still the most fascinating creature on the stage. She 
 also took the part of Nell in " The Devil to Pay ; " 
 in this her acting was truly admirable. Her age and 
 bulk do not interfere with any requisite in the cha- 
 racter. 
 
 April $t/z. With Walter, who introduced me to 
 Croly, his dramatic critic, who is about to go to 
 Hamburg to discharge the duty I performed six years 
 before. Croly is a fierce-looking Irishman, very lively 
 in conversation, and certainly has considerable talent 
 as a writer ; his eloquence, like his person, is rather 
 energetic than elegant, and though he has great power 
 and concentration of thought, he wants the delicacy 
 and discrimination of judgment which are the finest 
 qualities in a critic. -f 
 
 April gth. Accompanied Andrews J to the House 
 
 * Congreve's animated comedy of " Love for Love" was produced under 
 Betterton at Lincoln's Inn Fields in 1695. The part of Ben was written for 
 Doggett. Mrs. Abington was celebrated for her performance of Miss Prue, 
 and the excellence of the play was especially manifest when performed by a 
 powerful company under Mr. Macready's management at Drury Lane Theatre, 
 in 1843. G. S. 
 
 f Croly's career has been a singular one. He tried his hand as a contributor 
 to the daily press in various ways. He wrote tragedies, comedies, and novels 
 at least one of each ; and at last settled down as a preacher, with the rank of 
 Doctor, but of what faculty I do not know. H. C. R., 1847. 
 
 J Afterwards Serjeant Andrews.
 
 John Buck. 
 
 413 
 
 of Lords, to hear Lord Wellesley's speech on East 
 Indian affairs. I was very much disappointed, for I 
 discerned in the speech (evidently a prepared and 
 elaborate one) not one of the great qualities of an 
 orator or statesman. His person is small, and his 
 animation has in it nothing of dignity and weighty 
 energy. He put himself into a sort of artificial passion, 
 and was in a state of cold inflammation. He began 
 with a parade of first principles, and made a fuss about 
 general ideas, which were, I thought, after all very 
 commonplace. Yet the speech had excited curiosity, 
 and brought a great number of members of the House 
 of Commons behind the Throne. But after listening 
 for an hour and a half my patience was exhausted, and 
 I came home. 
 
 April i$th. A useful morning at the King's Bench, 
 Guildhall. My friend John Buck* was examined as a 
 witness in a special jury insurance cause. Garrow rose 
 to cross-examine him. " You have been many years 
 at Lloyd's, Mr. Buck ? " " Seventeen years." Garrow 
 sat down, but cross-examined at great length another 
 witness. Lord Ellenborough, in his summing up, said, 
 "You will have remarked that Mr. Attorney did not 
 think it advisable to ask Mr. Buck a single question. 
 Now on that gentleman's testimony everything turns, 
 
 for if you think that his statement is correct " before 
 
 he could complete the sentence the foreman said, " For 
 the Plaintiff, my Lord." " I thought as much," said the 
 Chief Justice. 
 
 May %th. In the evening went to the Temple, where 
 
 * See page 30. 
 
 CHAP. xvr. 
 1813. 
 
 John Buck. 
 
 H. C. K.'J 
 
 call to the 
 Bar.
 
 Letter to T. R. 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 Letter from 
 
 H. C. R. to 
 
 ' T. R. 
 
 I learned that I had been called to the Bar. The 
 assurance of the fact, though I had no reason to doubt 
 it, gave me pleasure. 
 
 Rem* I have frequently asserted, since my retire- 
 ment, that the two wisest acts of my life were my 
 going to the Bar when, according to the usual age at 
 which men begin practice, I was already an old man, 
 being thirty-eight, and my retiring from the Bar when, 
 according to the same ordinary usage, I was still a young 
 man, viz. fifty-three. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 56 Hatton Garden, 
 
 May 9, 1813. 
 My dear Thomas, 
 
 Before I notice the more interest- 
 ing subject of your letter, I will dismiss the history of 
 yesterday in a few words, just to satisfy your curiosity. 
 At four o'clock precisely I entered the Middle Temple 
 Hall in pontificalibus, where the oaths of allegiance and 
 abjuration were administered to me. I then dined, 
 dressed as I was, at a table apart. I had five friends 
 with me. After dinner we ascended the elevation at 
 the end of the Hall. My friends and acquaintance 
 gradually joined our party. We were just a score in , 
 number. I believe you are acquainted with none of 
 them but the Colliers, Amyot, Andrews, and Quayle. 
 The rest were professional men. After drinking about 
 six bottles of humble port, claret was brought in, and 
 we broke up at ten. What we had been doing in the 
 meanwhile I shall be better able to tell when I have 
 
 * Written in 1847.
 
 The Edgewortlis. 
 
 415 
 
 received the butler's bill. I cannot say that it was a 
 day of much enjoyment to me. I am told, and indeed 
 I felt, that I was quite nervous when I took the oaths. 
 And I had moments of very serious reflection even 
 while the bottle was circulating, and I was affecting the 
 boon companion. One incident, however, did serve to 
 raise my spirits. On my coming home, just before 
 dinner, I found with your letter the copy of an Act 
 of Parliament which Wedd Nash had left. He had 
 nominated me Auditor in a private Inclosure Act, and 
 the fee, he informed Mrs. Collier, would be ten guineas. 
 The timing of this my first professional emolument 
 does credit to Nash's friendliness and delicacy. 
 
 June I3//2. Went to Mrs. Barbauld's. Had a pleasant 
 chat with her about Madame de Stae'l, the Edgeworths, 
 &c. The latter are staying in London, and the daughter 
 gains the good-will of every one ; not so the father. 
 They dined at Sotheby's. After dinner Mr. Edgeworth 
 was sitting next Mrs. Siddons, Sam Rogers being on 
 the other side of her. " Madam," said he, " I think I 
 saw you perform Millamont thirty-five years ago." 
 " Pardon me, sir." " Oh, then it was forty years ago ; I 
 distinctly recollect it." " You will excuse me, sir, I never 
 played Millamont." " Oh, yes, ma'am, I recollect." 
 " I think," she said, turning to Mr. Rogers, " it is 
 time for me to change my place;" and she rose with her 
 own peculiar dignity.* 
 
 * This anecdote is given with a difference in the Reminiscences and the Diary. 
 In the latter, the dinner-party is said to have been at Lord Lonsdale's, and the 
 person to whom Mrs. Siddons turned on leaving her seat, Tom Moore. 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 The Edge- 
 worths.
 
 416 
 
 Madame de Stael. 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 Madame de 
 Stael. 
 
 Lard Lynd- 
 hurst. 
 
 Madame de 
 Stael. 
 
 Leaves the 
 Colliers. 
 
 June 24th. A Dies non, and therefore a holiday. 
 Called on Madame de Stael at Brunet's. She received 
 me very civilly, and I promise myself much pleasure 
 from her society during the year she intends remaining 
 in England. I intimated to her that I was become a 
 man of business, and she will be satisfied with my 
 attending her evening parties after nine o'clock. Her 
 son is a very genteel young man, almost handsome, but 
 with something of a sleepy air in his eye, and the tone 
 of his conversation a whisper which may be courtly, 
 but gives an appearance of apathy. The daughter I 
 scarcely saw, but she seems to be plain. 
 
 July 6th. Went to a supper-party at Rough's, given 
 in honour of the new Serjeant, Copley. Burrell, the 
 Pordens, Flaxmans, Tooke, &c., there. 
 
 Rem* This was the first step in that career of suc- 
 cess which distinguished the ex-chancellor, now called 
 the venerable Lord Lyndhurst. 
 
 July nth. Called this morning on Madame de Stael 
 at 3, George Street, Hanover Square. It is singular 
 that, having in Germany assisted her as a student of 
 philosophy, I should now render her service as a 
 lawyer. Murray the bookseller was with her, and I 
 assisted in drawing up the agreement for her forth- 
 coming work on Germany, for which she is to receive 
 1,500 guineas. 
 
 July i^th. Going into the country for the summer, I 
 quitted the house and family of the Colliers, in which 
 I had lived as an inmate for years with great pleasure. 
 I am to return, though only as a visitor, in the autumn, 
 
 * Written in 1847.
 
 Joins Bar Mess. Hart. 
 
 417 
 
 after my first experience of law practice on the circuit 
 and at the sessions. 
 
 July i8t/i. My first dinner with the Bar mess, at the 
 Angel Inn at Bury, where I took my seat as junior on 
 the Sessions Circuit. Our party consisted of Hunt, 
 Hart, Storks,* Whitbread, and Twiss. I enjoyed the 
 afternoon. Hunt is a gentlemanly man, Hart an 
 excellent companion. Storks was agreeable, and Whit- 
 bread has a pleasing countenance. 
 
 Rem.-\ Hart was in every way the most remarkable 
 man of our circuit. He was originally a preacher 
 among the Calvinistic Baptists, among whom he had the 
 reputation of being at the same time so good a preacher 
 and so bad a liver that it was said to him once, 
 " Mr. Hart, when I hear you in the pulpit, I wish you 
 were never out of it ; when I see you out of it, I wish 
 you were never in it." He married a lady, the heir in 
 tail after the death of her father, Sir John Thorold, to 
 a large estate. 
 
 At the death of Sir John, Hart left his profession. 
 When I saw him a couple of years after, he had 
 taken the name of Thorold ; and then he told me 
 that he never knew what were the miseries of poverty 
 until he came into the possession of an entailed 
 estate all his creditors came upon him at once, and 
 he was involved in perpetual quarrels with his family. 
 His wretchedness led to a complete change in his 
 habits, and he became in his old age again a preacher. 
 He built a chapel on his estate at his own expense, 
 and preached voluntarily to those who partook of his 
 
 * Afterwards Serjeant Storks. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 f Written in 1847. 
 I-! ]: 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 
 1813. 
 Dar mess. 
 
 Hart.
 
 4i8 
 
 Serjeant Bios set. 
 
 CHAP, xvi 
 
 1813. 
 
 Defending 
 
 a man for 
 
 murder. 
 
 Blosset. 
 
 enthusiasm, and could relish popular declamations of 
 ultra-Calvinism. 
 
 August 2O//z. (At Norwich.) I defended a man for 
 the murder of his wife and her sister by poison. It was 
 a case of circumstantial evidence. There was a moral 
 certainty that the man had put corrosive sublimate into 
 a tea-kettle, though no evidence so satisfactory as his 
 Tyburn countenance. I believe the acquittal in this 
 case was owing to this circumstance. The wife, expect- 
 ing to die, said, " No one but my husband could have 
 done it." As this produced an effect, I cross-examined 
 minutely as to the proximity of other cottages there 
 being children about the door being on the latch, &c. ; 
 and then concluded with an earnest question " On your 
 solemn oath, were there not twelve persons at least who 
 could have done it ?" " Yes, there were." And then an 
 assenting nod from a juryman. I went home, not trium- 
 phant. But the accident of being the successful defender 
 of a man accused of murder brought me forward, and 
 though my fees at two assize towns did not amount to 
 , yet my spirits were raised. 
 
 Rem* Serjeant Blosset (formerly Peckwell) was, 
 taking him for all in all, the individual whose memory 
 I respect the most of my departed associates on the 
 circuit. He was a quiet unpretending man, with gentle- 
 manly, even graceful manners, and though neither an 
 orator nor a man of eminent learning or remarkable 
 acuteness, yet far beyond every other man on our 
 circuit. He had the skill to advocate a bad cause well, 
 without advocating that which was bad in the cause 
 
 * Written in 18+.
 
 H. Cooper. Rolfc. Madame de Stael. 
 
 419 
 
 which greater men than he were sometimes unable 
 to do. Hence he was a universal favourite. 
 
 My immediate senior on the circuit was Henry 
 Cooper. He was very far my superior in talent for 
 business indeed in some respects he was an extra- 
 ordinary man. His memory, his cleverness, were 
 striking ; but so was his want of judgment, and it often 
 happened that his clever and amusing hits told as much 
 against as for his client. One day he was entertaining 
 the whole court, when Rolfe (now the Baron, then almost 
 the junior)* whispered to me, " How clever that is ! How 
 I thank God I am not so clever ! " 
 
 I once saw Cooper extort a laugh from Lord 
 Ellenborough in spite of himself. " But it is said 
 my client got drunk. Why, everybody gets drunk." 
 Then, changing his voice from a shrill tone to a 
 half-whisper, and with a low bow, he added, " Always 
 excepting your Lordships and the Bishops." 
 
 October i8///. Dined with Madame de Stael a party 
 of liberals at her house, viz : Lady Mackintosh, Robert 
 Adair the diplomatist, Godwin, Curran, and Murray, 
 &c. 
 
 Our hostess spoke freely of Buonaparte. She was 
 introduced to him when a victorious general in Italy ; 
 even then he affected princely airs, and spoke as if it 
 mattered not what he said he conferred honour by 
 saying anything. He had a pleasure in being rude. He 
 said to her, after her writings were known, that he did 
 'not think women ought to write books. She answered, 
 '' It is not every woman who can gain distinction by an 
 
 * Afterwards Lord Chancellor Cramvorth. 
 
 E E 2 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 
 1813. 
 
 Henry 
 Cooper. 
 
 Dinner at 
 Madame de 
 
 Buona- 
 parte.
 
 420 
 
 Dinner at Madame de StacTs. 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 Curran. 
 
 Sheridan. 
 
 Curran. 
 
 alliance with a General Buonaparte." Buonaparte said 
 to Madame de Condorcet, the widow of the philoso- 
 pher, who was a great female politician, and really a 
 woman of talent, " I do not like women who meddle 
 with politics." Madame de Condorcet instantly replied, 
 " Ah, mon General, as long as you men take a fancy 
 to cut off our heads now and then, we are interested 
 in knowing why you do it." 
 
 On one occasion. Buonaparte said to a party of ladies, 
 " Faites moi des consents." 
 
 Our hostess asserted that every political topic could 
 be exhausted in one hour's speech ; but, when pressed, 
 it was evident that by exhausting a subject she under- 
 stood uttering all the possible generalities and common- 
 places it involves. She praised Erskine's speeches. 
 Curran, who listened, held his tongue ; he said but one 
 thing on the subject of oratory, and that was in praise 
 of Fox, who he said was the most honest and candid of 
 speakers, and spoke only to convince fairly. "It seemed 
 to me," said Curran, " as if he were addressing himself 
 to me personally." Adair praised Sheridan highly in 
 the past tense, but said he injured himself by an in- 
 judicious imitation of Burke in his speech before the 
 lords on the impeachment of Hastings. Sheridan was 
 praised for his faculty of abstracting his mind from all 
 other things and working up a subject. 
 
 Curran, who is in his best moments a delightful com^ 
 panion, told some merry stories, at which our hostess 
 exclaimed, " Ah, que cela est charmant ! " He was, 
 however, also melancholy, and said he never went to bed 
 in Ireland without wishing not to rise again. He spoke
 
 Cnrran. Godwin. 
 
 421 
 
 of the other world and those he should wish to see 
 there. Madame de Stael said that after she had seen 
 those she loved (this with a sentimental sigh), she 
 should inquire for Adam and Eve, and ask how they 
 were born. During a light conversation about the living 
 and the dead, Lady Mackintosh exclaimed, " After all, 
 the truth of it seems to be that the sinners have the 
 best of it in this world and the saints in the next." 
 Curran declared " Paradise Lost" to be the worst poem 
 in the language. Milton was incapable of a delicate 
 or tender sentiment towards woman. Curran did not 
 render these heresies palatable by either originality or 
 pleasantry. Godwin defended Milton with zeal, and 
 even for his submission to Cromwell, who, he said, 
 though a usurper, was not a tyrant, nor cruel. This was 
 said in opposition to Madame de Stael, who was not 
 pleased with the philosopher. She said to Lady 
 Mackintosh, after he was gone, " I am glad I have seen 
 this man it is curious to see how naturally Jacobins 
 become the advocates of tyrants ; so it is in France 
 now." Lady Mackintosh apologized for him in a gentle 
 tone ; " he had been harshly treated, and almost driven 
 out of society ; he was living in retirement." The 
 others spoke kindly of him. 
 
 November isf. After a short visit to Anthony 
 Robinson, came to chambers and slept for the first time 
 in my own bed. I felt a little uncomfortable at the 
 reflection of my solitude, but also some satisfaction at 
 the thought that I was at least independent and at 
 home. I have not yet collected around me all that 
 I deem comforts, but I shall find my wants very 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 Godwin. 
 
 H. C. K. 
 
 at his 
 chamber*.
 
 422 
 
 Madame de Start's Germany. 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 C. Lamb. 
 
 Madame de 
 Stael. 
 
 few, I believe, if I except those arising from the desire 
 to appear respectable, not to say wealthy, in the eyes 
 of the world. 
 
 November \2tJi. In the evening a party at Anthony 
 Robinson's. The Lambs were there, and Charles seemed 
 to enjoy himself. We played cards, and at the close of 
 the evening he dryly said to Mrs. Robinson, " I have 
 enjoyed the evening much, which I do not often do at 
 people's houses." 
 
 .November \^th. Called on Madame de Stael, to 
 whom I had some civil things to say about her book, 
 which she received with less than an author's usual self- 
 complacence ; but she manifested no readiness to correct 
 some palpable omissions and mistakes I began pointing 
 out to her. And when I suggested that, in her account 
 of Goethe's " Triumph" (der Empfindsamkeit), she had 
 mistaken the plot, she said, " Perhaps I thought it 
 better as I stated it!" 
 
 She confessed that in her selection of books to 
 notice she was guided by A. W. Schlegel ; otherwise, 
 she added, a whole life would not have been sufficient 
 to collect such information. This confession was not 
 necessary for me. She says she is- about to write a 
 book on the French Revolution and on the state of 
 England, in which she means to show that all the 
 calamities which have arisen in France proceeded from 
 not following the English constitution. She says she 
 has a number of questions to put to me concerning 
 the English law, and which she is to reduce to writing. 
 We talked on politics. She still thinks that unless 
 Buonaparte fall he will find means to retrieve his
 
 Letter from Coleridge. 
 
 423 
 
 fortune. Perhaps she is still influenced by French 
 sentiments in conceiving that Buonaparte must be 
 victorious at last if he persist in the war. But she is 
 nevertheless a bigoted admirer of our government, 
 which she considers to be perfect! 
 
 COLERIDGE TO H. C. R. 
 Monday Morning, December "jth, 1812. 
 Excuse me for again repeating my request to you, 
 to use your best means as speedily as possible to procure 
 for me (if possible) the perusal of Goethe's work on Light 
 and Colour.* In a thing I have now on hand it would be 
 of very important service to me ; at the same time do not 
 forget Jacobi to Fichte,-f- and whatever other work may 
 have bearings on the Neuere, neueste, und allerneueste 
 Filosofie. It is my hope and purpose to devote a 
 certain portion of my time for the next twelve months 
 to theatrical attempts, and chiefly to the melodrama, or 
 comic opera kind ; and from Goethe (from what I read 
 of his little Singspiele in the volume which you lent me) 
 I expect no trifling assistance, especially in the songs, 
 airs, &c., and the happy mode of introducing them. In 
 my frequent conversations with W. (a composer and 
 music-seller), I could not find that he or the music-sellers 
 in general had any knowledge of those compositions, 
 which are so deservedly dear to the German public. As 
 soon as I can disembarrass myself, I shall make one sturdy 
 effort to understand music myself, so far at least of the 
 science as goes to the composition of a simple air. For 
 
 * ' ' Goethe's Theory of Colours. Translated from the German ; with notes by 
 Charles Lock Eastlake, R.A., F.R.S." London, 1840. 
 f Jacobi's " Sendschreiben an Kkhte." 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 Letter by 
 Coleridge.
 
 424 
 
 C. Lamb. Flaxman. 
 
 CHAP. xvi. 
 1813. 
 
 A pun of 
 C. Lamb' s. 
 
 Flaxman. 
 
 I seem frequently to form such in my own mind, to my 
 inner ear. When you write to Bury, do not forget to 
 assure Mrs. Clarkson of my never altered and unalter- 
 able esteem and affection. 
 
 S. T. COLERIDGE. 
 
 December ysth. After dinner a rubber at Lamb's ; then 
 went with Lamb and Burney to Rickman's. Hazlitt 
 there. Cards, as usual, were our amusement. Lamb 
 was in a pleasant mood. Rickman produced one of 
 Chatterton's forgeries. In one manuscript there were 
 seventeen different kinds of e's. "Oh," said Lamb, 
 " that must have been written by one of the 
 
 " Mob of gentlemen who write with ease." 
 
 December ^\st. Spent the evening at Flaxman's. A 
 New Year's party. It consisted only of the Pordens, 
 some of Mrs. Flaxman's family, and one or two others. 
 We were comfortable enough without being outrageously 
 merry. Flaxman, of all the great men I ever knew, 
 plays the child with the most grace. He is infinitely 
 amiable, without losing any of his respectability. It is 
 obvious that his is the relaxation of a superior mind, 
 without, however, any of the ostentation of condescen- 
 sion. We stayed late, and the New Year found us 
 enjoying ourselves.
 
 " JoJin Buncle" Lamb. 
 
 425. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 1814. 
 
 January 2</. Read lately the first volume of "John 
 Buncle."* It contains but little that is readable, but 
 that little is very pleasing. The preachments are to be 
 skipped over, but the hearty descriptions of character 
 are very interesting from the love with which they are 
 penned. Lamb says, with his usual felicity, that the 
 book is written in better spirits than any book he knows.-f 
 Amory's descriptions are in a high style ; his scene- 
 painting is of the first order ; and it is the whimsical 
 mixture of romantic scenery, millennium-hall society, 
 and dry disputation in a quaint style, which gives this 
 book so strange and amusing a character. For instance, 
 John Buncle meets a lady in a sort of Rosamond's 
 bower studying Hebrew. He is smitten with her charms, 
 declares his love to " glorious Miss Noel," and when, oh 
 account of so slight an acquaintance that of an hour 
 she repels him (for his love had been kindled only by a 
 desperately learned speech of hers on the paradisiacal 
 
 The "Life of John Buncle, Esq.; containing various Observations and 
 Reflections made in several Parts of the World, and many extraordinary Rela- 
 tions." By THOMAS AMORY. Hollis, 1766. Two vols. 
 
 f "John (says Leigh Hunt) is a kind of innocent Henry the Eighth of pri- 
 vate life, without the other's fat, fury, and solemnity. He is a prodigious hand 
 at matrimony, at divinity, at a song, at a loud 'hem,' and at a turkey anc 
 chine." 
 
 In No. 10 of Leigh Hunt's London Journal (June 4, 1834), there is an 
 abstract of "John. Buncle. " 
 
 1814. 
 
 John 
 Buncle. 
 
 C. Lamb. 
 
 John 
 Buncle.
 
 426 
 
 Kearfs Ricliard III, 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 1814. 
 
 Kean as 
 Richard 
 
 language), and threatens to leave him, he exclaims, 
 " Oh, I should die were you to leave me ; therefore, if 
 you please, we will discourse of the miracle of Babel." 
 And then follows a long dialogue on the confusion of 
 tongues, in which " illustrious Miss Noel " bears a dis- 
 tinguished part. 
 
 March 'jth. -At Drury Lane, and saw Kean for the 
 first time. He played Richard, I believe, better than 
 any man I ever saw ; yet my expectations were pitched 
 too high, and I had not the pleasure I expected. The 
 expression of malignant joy is the one in which he 
 surpasses all men I have ever seen. And his most 
 flagrant defect is want of dignity. His face is finely 
 expressive, though his mouth is not handsome, and he 
 projects his lower lip ungracefully; yet it is finely suited 
 to Richard. He gratified my eye more than my ear. 
 His action very often was that of Kemble, and this was 
 not the worst of his performance ; but it detracts from 
 his boasted originality. His declamation is very un- 
 pleasant, but my ear may in time be reconciled to it, as 
 the palate is to new cheese and tea. It often reminds 
 me of Blanchard's. His speech is not fluent, and his 
 words and syllables are too distinctly separated. His 
 finest scene was with Lady Anne, and his mode of lifting 
 up her veil to watch her countenance was exquisite. 
 The concluding scene was unequal to my expectation, 
 though the fencing was elegant, and his sudden death-fall 
 was shockingly real. But he should have lain still. Why 
 does he rise, or awake rather, to repeat the spurious 
 lines ? He did not often excite a strong persuasion of 
 the truth of his acting, and the applause he received
 
 Buonaparte's Abdication. 
 
 427 
 
 was not very great. Mrs. Glover had infinitely more in 
 the pathetic scene in which she, as Queen Elizabeth, 
 parts from her children. To recur to Kean, I do not 
 think he will retain all his popularity, but he may learn 
 to deserve it better, though I think he will never be 
 qualified for heroic parts. He 'wants a commanding 
 figure and a powerful voice. His greatest excellences 
 are a fine pantomimic face and remarkable agility. 
 
 Marc/i26th. I read Stephens's "Life of Home Tooke." 
 All the anecdotes respecting him, as well as his letters, 
 are excellent. They raise a favourable impression of 
 his integrity, and yet this stubborn integrity was blended 
 with so impassioned a hatred, that it is difficult to 
 apportion the praise and reproach which his admirers 
 and enemies, with perhaps equal injustice, heap upon 
 him. 
 
 April loth. Went early to the coffee-room. To-day 
 it was fully confirmed that Buonaparte had voluntarily 
 abdicated the thrones of France and Italy, and thus at 
 once, as by the stroke of an enchanter's wand, the 
 revolutionary government of France, after tormenting 
 the world for nearly twenty-five years, has quietly 
 yielded up its breath. 
 
 April \2t1i. Again at the coffee-room in the morning, 
 though now the public papers must of necessity decline 
 in interest. There must follow the winding up of, ac- 
 counts, and there may arise disputes in the appropriation 
 of territory and in the fixing of constitutions ; but no 
 serious obstacle in the way of peace is to be appre- 
 hended. My wish is that means could be found, without 
 violating the honour of the allies, to break the treaty so 
 
 CHAP. xvii. 
 1814. 
 
 Home 
 
 Tooke. 
 
 Abdication 
 of Buona- 
 parte. 
 
 Settling ty 
 Europe. 
 
 H. C. R.'s 
 
 prophecy 
 respecting 
 European 
 politics.
 
 428 
 
 Prospects of Europe. 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 1814. 
 
 State of 
 mind in 
 England. 
 
 imprudently made with that arch-knave Murat. Ber- 
 nadotte ought to retain his crown, but I should be glad 
 to see Norway succeed in emancipating herself from his 
 dominion, so unworthily obtained. Saxony ought to 
 revert to the house which lost it during the wars pro-, 
 duced by the Reformation, and the Duke of Weimar 
 deserves to succeed to his ancestors. Poland has no. 
 chance of regaining her independence, and perhaps 
 would not be able to make use of it. Russia will 
 descend deeper into Europe than I can contemplate 
 without anxiety, notwithstanding the actual merits of 
 her Emperor. Prussia I wish to see mistress of all 
 Protestant Germany ; and it would give me joy to see 
 the rest of Germany swallowed up by Austria ; but 
 this will not be. The Empire will, I fear, be restored, 
 and with it the foundation laid for future wars of 
 intrigue. France will resume her influence over Europe ; 
 and this is the one evil I apprehend from the restoration 
 of the Bourbons that the jealousy which ought to 
 survive against France, as France, will sleep in the ashes 
 of the Napoleon dynasty. Such are my wishes, hopes, 
 fears, and expectations. 
 
 The counter-revolution in France has not gratified 
 our vanity. It comes like a blessing of Providence. or 
 a gift of nature, and these are received with quiet 
 gratitude. Hence the want of enthusiasm in the public 
 mind, although the general sentiment is joy. Cobbett 
 and Sir Richard Phillips* alone express sorrow, and the 
 Morning Chronicle betrays an unpatriotic spirit. Of 
 
 * The author and bookseller. He was editor and proprietor of the Minthly 
 Magazine, and was the compiler of many popular volumes.
 
 Flaxman. Kearis Othello. 
 
 my own personal acquaintance, only Will Hazlitt and 
 poor Capel Lofft are among the malcontents. 
 
 May 7t]i. Took tea at Flaxman's. He spoke highly 
 of the great variety of talents possessed by Lawrence. 
 On occasion of the contest for the professorship of 
 painting between Opie and Fuseli, Flaxman says, 
 Lawrence made an extempore speech in support of 
 Fuseli better th^n any speech he (Flaxman) ever heard. 
 " But," said Flaxman, " Lawrence's powers are almost 
 his ruin. He is ever in company. One person admires 
 his singing, another his reading, another his conversa- 
 tional talents, and he is overwhelmed with engage- 
 ments. I have heard Hazlitt say, ' No good talker will 
 ever labour enough to become a good painter/ " 
 
 May 1 5 th. Called on the Colliers. I am glad to feel 
 that there is a return of cordiality which had been on 
 the decline between me and these old friends. There 
 is so much positive pleasure in every kindly feeling, 
 that certainly it is not wisdom to criticise whether it is 
 justified. Friendship, more assuredly than virtue, is its 
 own reward. Lamb and his sister were there, and 
 expressed great kindness towards me, which gave me 
 much pleasure. They are, indeed, among the very best 
 of persons. Their moral qualities are as distinguished 
 as their intellectual. 
 
 May K)th. I accompanied Anthony and Mrs. Robin- 
 son to Drury Lane to see Kean play Othello. The long 
 trial of waiting before the door having been endured, the 
 gratification was very great. Of all the characters in 
 which I have yet seen Kean, Othello is the one for 
 which by nature he is the least qualified ; yet it is the one 
 
 _HAP. XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 Flaxman 
 
 on 
 Lawrence. 
 
 Friendship. 
 
 The Lambs. 
 
 Kean as 
 Othello.
 
 430 
 
 George Young, Spurzheim. 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 1814. 
 
 Dinner at 
 G. Young's. 
 
 Stephen. 
 
 in which he has most delighted me. Kean has little 
 grace or beauty in mere oratorical declamation, but in 
 the bursts of passion he surpasses any male actor I ever 
 saw. His delivery of the speech in which he says, 
 "Othello's occupation's gone," was as pathetic as a 
 lover's farewell to his mistress. I could hardly keep 
 from crying ; it was pure feeling. In the same scene 
 the expression of rage is inimitable. 
 
 May 26th. Dined with Mr. George Young.* A large 
 party. Present were Dr. Spurzheim, now the lion of the 
 day, as the apostle of craniology ten years ago he was 
 the famulus of the discoverer Gall ; Mason Good, poet, 
 lecturer, and .surgeon ; Drs. Gooch and Parke ; my friend 
 Hamond ; Charles Young, the rival of Kean at Covent 
 Garden, and another brother of our host ; Ayton, an 
 attorney ; and Westall, the R.A. Spurzheim appeared 
 to advantage as the opponent of Mason Good, who 
 was wordy, and I thought opposed close intellectual 
 reasoning by a profusion of technicalities. Spurzheim 
 preached from the skulls of several of us, and was 
 tolerably successful in his guesses, though not with me, 
 for he gave me theosophy, and tried to make a philo- 
 sopher of me. To Hamond he gave the organs of 
 circumspection and the love of children. To Charles 
 Young that of representation, but he probably knew he 
 was an actor. 
 
 May 2jth. The forenoon' at the Old Bailey Sessions. 
 Walked back with Stephen.-f- He related that Romilly 
 thinks Lord Eldon one of the profoundest and most 
 
 * An eminent surgeon, of whom more hereafter. 
 
 f The emancipationist. He was brother-in-law to Wilberforce, and the 
 father of the late Sir James Stephen, the Professor of History.
 
 Sir S. Romilly on Eldon. Lord Cochrane. 
 
 431 
 
 learned lawyers who ever lived ; yet he considers his 
 infirmity as a practical doubter so fatal, that he infinitely 
 prefers Erskine as a Chancellor. Though his mind and 
 legal habits are of so different a class, his good sense 
 and power of prompt decision enable him to administer 
 justice usefully. 
 
 June i8t/i. This was a high festival in the City, the 
 corporation giving a superb entertainment to the Prince 
 Regent and his visitors, the Emperor of Russia, King of 
 Prussia, &c. Took a hasty dinner at Collier's, and then 
 witnessed the procession from Fleet Street. It was not 
 a gratifying spectacle, for there was no continuity in the 
 scene ; but some of the distinct objects were interesting. 
 The Royal carriages were splendid, but my ignorance of 
 the individuals who filled them prevented my having 
 much pleasure. My friend Mrs. W. Pattisson brought 
 her boys to see the sight, and she did wisely, for she has 
 enriched their memories with recollections which time 
 will exalt to great value. It will in their old age be a 
 subject of great pleasure that at the ages of eleven and 
 ten they beheld the persons of the greatest sovereigns 
 of the time, and witnessed the festivities consequent on 
 the peace which fixed (may it prove so !) the indepen- 
 dence and repose of Europe. 
 
 June 2ist. Again in the King's Bench. The 
 sentence of the pillory was passed against Lord 
 Cochrane and others for a fraud to raise the price of 
 stock by spreading false news. The severity of the 
 sentence has turned public opinion in favour of his 
 Lordship, and they who first commiserated him began 
 afterwards to think him innocent. His appearance 
 
 CHAP. xvir. 
 1814. 
 
 Procession. 
 
 Lord 
 Cochrane.
 
 432 
 
 Walk ivit/i C. Lamb. 
 
 CHAP, xvn 
 1814. 
 
 Lamb. 
 
 A walk 
 with. C. 
 l^anib. 
 
 to-day was certainly pitiable. When the sentence was 
 passed he stood without colour in his face, his eye 
 staring and without expression ; and when he left the 
 court it was with difficulty, as if he were stupified.* 
 
 June 29//J. Called on Lamb in the evening. Found 
 him as delighted as a child with a garret he had appro- 
 priated and adorned with all the copper-plate en- 
 gravings he could collect, having rifled every book he 
 possesses for the purpose. It was pleasant to observe 
 his innocent delight Schiller says all great men have 
 a childlikeness in their nature. 
 
 July yd. A day of great pleasure. Charles Lamb 
 and I walked to Enfield by Southgate, after an early 
 breakfast in his chambers. We were most hospitably 
 received by Anthony Robinson and his wife. After tea, 
 Lamb and I returned. The whole day most delightfully 
 fine, and the scenery very agreeable. Lamb cared for 
 the walk more than the scenery, for the enjoyment of 
 which he seems to have no great susceptibility. His 
 great delight, even in preference to a country walk, is a 
 stroll in London. The shops and the busy streets, such 
 as Thames Street, Bankside, &c., are his great favourites. 
 He, for the same reason, has no great relish for land- 
 scape painting. But his relish for historic painting is 
 
 * Lord Dundonald, in a note to an extract from Campbell's "Lives of the 
 Chief Justices," where 'it is mentioned that he was sentenced to stand in the 
 pillory, says : 
 
 ' ' This vindictive sentence the Government did not dare carry out. My high- 
 minded colleague, Sir Francis Burdett, told the Government that, if the sentence 
 was carried into effect, he would stand in the pillory beside me, when they must 
 look to the consequences. What these might have been, in the then excited 
 state of the public mind, as regarded my treatment, the reader may guess." 
 The Autobiography of a Seaman. By Thomas, Tenth Earl of Dundonald, 
 G.C.B. Second edition. London, 1861. Vol. II., p. 322, note.
 
 C. Lamb's Peculiarities. Tiarks. 
 
 433 
 
 exquisite. Lamb's peculiarities are very interesting. 
 We had not much conversation he hummed tunes, I 
 repeated Wordsworth's " Daffodils," of which I am be- 
 come very fond. Lamb praised T. Warton's " Sonnet 
 in Dugdale " as of first-rate excellence.* It is a good 
 thought, but I find nothing exquisite in it. He praised 
 Prior's courtly poems his " Down Hall " his fine ap- 
 plication of the names of Marlborough, so as to be 
 offensive in the ears of Boileau. 
 
 July 4///. Took early tea with Flaxman, to whom I 
 read an admirable criticism by Hazlitt on West's pic- 
 ture of the " Rejection of Christ." A bitter and severe 
 but most excellent performance. Flaxman was con- 
 strained to admit the high talent of the criticism, though 
 he was unaffectedly pained by its severity ; but he was 
 himself offended by West's attempt to represent this 
 sacred subject. 
 
 July 6th. Dr. Tiarks *|- breakfasted with me, and we 
 spent an hour and a half very pleasantly. Tiarks says 
 that he understands Buonaparte said to the Austrian 
 commissioner, "The king of Saxony is the honestest 
 king in Europe. If the allies dethrone him they will do 
 a more tyrannical act than I ever did. I have dethroned 
 many kings in my time, but I was a parvenu, and it was 
 necessary for my safety. The old legitimate sovereigns 
 should act on other principles." 
 
 * This Sonnet was "Written in a Blank Leaf of Dugdale's 'Monasticon.' " 
 f A Frieslander by birth, he became a candidate in theology at Gottingen, 
 but had notice that he had been drawn as a conscript, and would be seized as 
 such. Flying from the army, he begged his way to England, where he main- 
 tained himself first as a private librarian to Sir Joseph Banks, and afterwards, 
 with considerable success, as a teacher of German, Greek, and mathematics. 
 H. C. R. 
 
 VOL. I. F F 
 
 CHAP. xvii. 
 1814. 
 
 Flaxman. 
 
 Dr. 
 
 Tiarks.
 
 434 
 
 Jeremy Bentham. 
 
 CHAP, xv ii. 
 
 1814. 
 Bentham. 
 
 JamesMill. 
 
 Words- 
 worth's 
 Excursion. 
 
 July 2tyh. Mr. Wakefield called on me with Jeremy 
 Bentham's " Panopticon," and he occupied me till one 
 o'clock. Wakefield belongs to Jeremy Bentham's select 
 society. He is voted nobody, i.e. free of the house. He 
 gives an interesting account of the philosopher's abode, 
 where a Panopticon school is to be erected. Bentham's 
 constant inmates are Koe, whom I have seen, and Mill, 
 whom I dined with at Hamond's, and whom Wakefield 
 represents as one of the greatest men of the present 
 day. He is writing a history of India. Wakefield says 
 that Bentham has considerable respect for Hamond's 
 understanding. 
 
 July -$\st. Read Bentham's "Panopticon" and first 
 Appendix. All that respected the moral economy of 
 his plan interested me greatly, but for want of plates 
 I could not comprehend the mechanical structure. The 
 book is (as all Bentham's are), full of original and very 
 valuable matter. But it would possibly have had more 
 effect if it had contained fewer novelties in substance 
 and in language. Men are prepared to oppose when 
 novelty is ostentatiously announced. 
 
 August 13/7*. (At Norwich.) Accompanied some 
 friends to the theatre. The actors did not edify me. 
 Stole out to call on Madge, at whose apartments I found 
 the great new poem of Wordsworth, " The Excursion." 
 I could only look into the preface and read a few 
 extracts with Madge. It is a poem of formidable size, 
 and I fear too mystical to be popular. It will, however, 
 put an end to the sneers of those who consider, or affect 
 to consider, him puerile. But it will possibly draw on 
 him the imputation of dulness. Still, I trust it will
 
 Kasiner. Mrs. Pattisson. 
 
 435 
 
 strengthen the zeal of his few friends. My anxiety is 
 great to read it. 
 
 August i8t/t. Tiarks brought Kastner to me. Kast- 
 ner is an enthusiast, but his enthusiasm impels to 
 action, and it is accompanied by talent of very high 
 rank and great variety. Having distinguished himself 
 as a chemist he became Volksredner (orator for the 
 people) ; and he is now striving to interest the Govern- 
 ment in favour of freemasonry, in order to oppose 
 priestcraft, which he thinks is reviving. He also con- 
 ducted a newspaper, and assisted in raising the Prussian 
 Landwehr. Having fought with this body in France, 
 he came to England to solicit a grant out of the 
 contributions for the Germans in favour of the Land- 
 wehr. Though every one thought his attempts vain, he 
 has succeeded in obtaining 1,000, and hopes for much 
 more, out of the Parliamentary grant. 
 
 H. C. R. TO MRS. PATTISSON. 
 
 Buty St. Edmunds, July 27 tk, 1814. 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 Though my own plans were in some measure 
 disarranged by it, I was sincerely glad to hear that you 
 had resolved to undertake the northern journey. I 
 trust it has proved to you a source of other pleasures 
 than those for the sake of which you made it. The 
 reward which Solomon received for a wise choice of the 
 blessings of life I have very frequently seen conferred 
 
 on a small scale. I should be very glad 
 
 if some accident were to bring you acquainted with any 
 
 F F 2 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 
 1814. 
 Kastner.
 
 436 
 
 Jeremy Taylor on Friendship. 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 of the Stansfelds. That is so highly estimable a family, 
 that I could almost consider myself the friend of every 
 member of it, meaning only to express my very peculiar 
 esteem for them 
 
 I have just risen from the perusal of the most ad- 
 mirable discourse on friendship which I believe was 
 ever penned. It is a sort of sermon without a text by 
 Jeremy Taylor ; so delightful that, if I had no other 
 means of conveying it to you, I think I could almost 
 walk to Witham from Bury with the folio volume con- 
 taining it in my hand, in order to have the delight of 
 reading it to you. Though it is arrant pedantry to fill 
 a letter with quotations, I cannot resist the temptation 
 of quoting two or three golden sayings. 
 
 Soame Jenyns, you may recollect, vindicates Chris- 
 tianity for excluding from its system those false virtues, 
 patriotism, valour, and friendship ! ! ! This very insidious 
 paradox in effect, not intention, I mean is as to friend- 
 ship, with equal truth and beauty, thus exhibited by 
 Jeremy Taylor: " By friendship you mean the greatest 
 love, the greatest usefulness, and the most open com- 
 munication, and the noblest sufferings, and the severest 
 truth, and the heartiest counsel, and the greatest union of 
 minds, of which brave men and women are capable. But 
 then I must tell you that Christianity hath new christened 
 
 it, and called it charity Christian charity 
 
 is friendship to all the world. And when friendships 
 were the noblest things in the world" (referring, I suspect, 
 to Cicero, &c.), " chanty was little, like the sun drawn in 
 at a chink, or his beams drawn into the centre of a burn- 
 ing-glass ; but Christian charity is friendship expanded,
 
 Kastner. 
 
 437 
 
 like the face of the sun when it mounts the eastern 
 hills." Still, the individual appropriation of love was to 
 be explained ; he therefore goes on, " There is enough 
 in every man that is willing to make him become our 
 friend, but where men contract friendships they enclose 
 the commons, and what nature intended should be every 
 man's, we make proper to two or three." In these lines 
 are contained all the ideas necessary to a development 
 of friendship speculatively. The following sentences 
 are gems: " He that does a base thing in zeal for his 
 friend, burns the golden thread that ties their hearts 
 together." " Secrecy is the chastity of friendship." 
 " Friendship is charity in society." 
 
 If I can, I will take a bait at Witham on my way 
 from Norwich to London ; but I do not know that I 
 can stay even a day with you. One circumstance 
 may call me to town earlier than I might otherwise 
 have thought necessary. I have received some letters 
 from a most amiable and worthy man, a Jena acquaint- 
 ance, who has made a journey to London, in order to 
 solicit relief for a particular class of sufferers the 
 Prussian Landwehr. He seems to expect great assist- 
 ance from me, and it will be a painful task to me to 
 show him that I can do nothing. He is a benevolent 
 Quixote. He has written me an account of his life, 
 and his sufferings and pathetic tale will interest you. 
 He is made up of love of every kind to his wife and 
 children, to his country, for which he fought, and to 
 religion, to which he seems devotedly attached. I wrote 
 to Aders to offer Kastner my chambers during my ab- 
 sence ; but Aders has procured him a lodging at six 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 1814.
 
 438 
 
 Sessions Business. Tour in France. 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 Annual 
 
 excursions. 
 
 Duchesnois. 
 
 shillings a week. Kastner has luckily met with my 
 friends in town. 
 
 You will expect to hear of the success of my Sessions 
 Circuit. It was not so productive as I expected, from 
 the retirement of Twiss, but this was more from the 
 want of business than from the preference of others 
 before me. At Norwich and Bury, I had more than 
 my reasonable share of business. At Bury, not even 
 Alderson held a brief, or had a motion ; the very little 
 was divided between Storks and myself, I taking a 
 third. However, my individual success is great, though 
 the decline of professional business in general is enough 
 to alarm a man now entering into it. Lawyers have 
 had their day I 
 
 Your affectionate Friend, 
 
 H. C. ROBINSON. 
 
 Rem* During my fifteen years at the Bar, I relieved 
 myself from the dulness of a London professional life by 
 annual excursions, of all of which I kept Journals. In 
 collecting reminiscences from them, I shall for the most 
 part omit descriptions of places, and confine myself to 
 the persons I saw. The present journey in France 
 immediately followed that great event, the restoration 
 of the French monarchy, after twenty-five years of 
 revolution. 
 
 Atigust 26th. Arrived at Rouen in the evening, and 
 heard that Mademoiselle Duchesnois was to perform. 
 Tired and even hungry as I was, I instantly set out for 
 the theatre, and went into the pit, which had no seats, 
 
 * Written in 1850.
 
 "Hamlet" on the French Stage. 
 
 439 
 
 and where the audience was very low. The play was 
 the "Hamlet," not of Shakespeare but of Ducis, and 
 therefore the first impression was a very mixed one. 
 On my entrance Duchesnois, as Queen, was relating to 
 her confidante the history of her two marriages. So 
 much I could understand, and that was all ; and this 
 annoyed me. Then the actress herself was really ugly. 
 But, in spite of all this, such is the power of real talent, 
 that in a very short time I caught myself violently 
 applauding. Of the actress's declamation I was no 
 judge, but of course it was good, as the French are 
 inexorable on this point. I could, however, feel the 
 truthfulness of her expression of passion. Her tones 
 were pathetic. Yet there must be something conven- 
 tional in such things. Of the other actors I have 
 nothing to say ; nor of the play, but that it is truly 
 French. The unities are preserved, and Hamlet is 
 victorious. No more need be said. But what was more 
 remarkable than the play was the display of national 
 feeling. At Dieppe, indeed, the children had shouted 
 after us in the street, " Allez vous en ; " and in the 
 scene in which Shakespeare has but a poor joke about 
 the English being mad, Ducis has substituted a line of 
 grave reproach, 
 
 " L'Angleterre fut toujours dans les crimes teconde." 
 
 On this the fellows who were next me all turned their 
 faces towards me and clapped lustily. I may mention 
 that, after dinner, as I was walking, I stopped to talk 
 with a peasant, who laid down his tool and jumped over 
 a ditch to chat with me. He was a strong anti-revolu- 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 Hamlet in 
 French. 
 
 French 
 
 antipathy 
 
 towards the 
 
 English.
 
 440 
 
 French Honesty. 
 
 CHAP, xvn 
 1814. 
 
 Clarkson. 
 
 Vincennes. 
 
 Honest 
 French 
 girl- 
 
 Bishop 
 Gregoire. 
 
 tionist. The good king, he said, must take care to dis- 
 band his army, or he would never be safe. The army 
 are friendly to the Emperor, their opinions about him 
 having a great deal of a professional character. 
 
 August 2<)th. I went by the lower road to Paris in a 
 diligence through St. Germains, &c., and arrived at Paris 
 the next day ; and an accident led me at once to a 
 decent hotel in the Rue Montmartre. Fortunately for 
 me, Mr. Clarkson is here, hoping by personal intercourse 
 with the Emperor of Russia, Duke of Wellington, &c., 
 to obtain some stringent measures to enforce the aboli- 
 tion of the slave-trade. Mrs. Clarkson is with him. 
 
 September 1st. I walked with John Thelwall and his 
 party to the famous Chateau or prison of Vincennes, 
 being introduced to the governor by the curate. We 
 afterwards dined at a restaurant and walked back. As 
 we reached the barriere, Thelwall discovered that he 
 had lost his purse, containing about twenty napoleons. 
 He recollected taking it out of his pocket to pay for 
 the dinner. We all returned with him to the hotel ; 
 the house was shut. On knocking, a chamber-window 
 was opened, and we heard a female voice exclaim, " Ah ! 
 ce sont Messieurs les Anglais, pour la bourse ! " The 
 maid and her mistress came down together ; the 
 former, who had found the purse on the table, had it in 
 her hand, with an expression of great joy at being 
 able to restore it ; and she received Thelwall's present 
 very becomingly. 
 
 September 2nd. I accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Clark- 
 son to the library of the institution at the Quatre 
 Nations, where I was introduced to the celebrated ex-
 
 Paris after the Restoration. 
 
 441 
 
 Bishop of Blois, Gregoire, leader of the society of the 
 Amis des Noirs, which made him the close ally of 
 Clarkson. 
 
 Rem* I acquired the privilege of calling on Gregoire 
 on my future visits to Paris, and generally availed 
 myself of it. The impression he made on me to-day 
 was not removed by the disgrace cast on him after- 
 wards. He seemed to me to be a kind-hearted, benevo- 
 lent man, with no great strength of understanding, and 
 somewhat of a petit-maitre in his habits. 
 
 September ^th. I accompanied the Thelwall party to 
 the Louvre, and thence to the house of David, who was 
 there the exhibitor of his own paintings. Whether it 
 was because I knew him to have been the friend of 
 Robespierre, and a member of the Revolutionary tri- 
 bunal, or not, I cannot say, but his countenance seemed 
 to me to express ferocity. It was deformed by a hare-lip. 
 
 September Jth. The consecration of the colours of 
 the National Guard, at which attended the King and 
 all the authorities of Paris, was of course not to be 
 neglected. The applause given to the King was faint. 
 From a few there were loud cries. One voice was 
 remarkable, and I recognized it on several days. 
 
 September %th. I had the satisfaction of recognizing 
 Talleyrand from his resemblance to the engravings of 
 him. The expression of his countenance as he passed 
 was, I thought, that of a voluptuary and a courtier, 
 rather than that of a politician and man of business. 
 He spoke to his coachman in an arrogant tone. His 
 thin legs and sorry figure below the waist hardly justify 
 
 * Written in 1850. 
 
 CHAP. xvii. 
 1814. 
 
 David. 
 
 Talley- 
 rand.
 
 442 
 
 La Fayette 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 1814. 
 
 H. C. R's 
 
 brother, 
 T. R. 
 
 La Fayette. 
 
 the term cripple ; but I looked for and perceived the 
 club-foot, to remove all doubt as to his identity. I fancy 
 I can judge better of Talleyrand's character from having 
 had a glimpse of his person. 
 
 September gtk. My brother was with me at the 
 Theatre Frangais, and I was amused by being asked 
 twice whether he was not " le grand tragique Kemble 
 celui qui joue les premieres roles a Londres." The 
 inquirers seemed to disbelieve my denial. 
 
 September loth and nth. These days were distin- 
 guished by my being in the company of one of the 
 most remarkable men of the French Revolution, 
 General La Fayette. By no means one of the ablest 
 or greatest, but I believe, in intention at least, one of 
 the best ; and one who has been placed in positions 
 both of danger and of show at critical moments beyond 
 every other individual. Of all the revolutionary leaders, 
 he is the one of whom I think most favourably ; and 
 my favourable impression was enhanced by what I 
 heard from him. I was with Mr. Clarkson when La 
 Fayette called on him, and I was greatly surprised at 
 his appearance. I expected to see an infirm old man, 
 on whose countenance I should trace the marks of 
 suffering from long imprisonment and cruel treatment. 
 I saw a hale man with a florid complexion, and no signs 
 of age about him. In fact, he is fifty-seven years old, 
 his reddish complexion clear, his body inclining to be 
 stout His tone of conversation is staid, and he has 
 not the vivacity commonly ascribed to Frenchmen. 
 There is apparently nothing enthusiastic about him. 
 
 The slave-trade was the subject which brought the
 
 and Negro Emancipation. 
 
 443 
 
 General and Clarkson together, and it engrossed, I 
 thought, too much of the conversation. La Fayette 
 confirmed Clarkson's opinion, that the Emperor of 
 Russia was perfectly sincere and even zealous in the 
 wish which he expressed at Madame de StaeTs, in 
 opposition to the Portuguese Minister, to secure the 
 abolition of the slave-trade. He also gave credit to 
 Talleyrand for his sincerity in the same wish ; " but 
 certainly," said La Fayette, " he is not an enthusiast in 
 anything." Among the subjects of reproach against 
 Buonaparte was his restoration of slavery ; and La 
 Fayette imputed to him an artifice by which he had 
 made it appear that La Fayette had sold slaves. He 
 had purchased an estate in order to assist the abolition, 
 and when slavery -was abolished by law, he sold the 
 estate, and the notary put the word slaves into the 
 contract. La Fayette refused to sign unless the word 
 was erased. " But," said the notary, " if there are none, 
 the word has no effect, and no one can tell what may 
 happen." La Fayette inferred from this that the 
 scheme to restore slavery was formed, which did soon 
 take place. And though he had done all he could by 
 law to declare these slaves free, they were made slaves 
 at last. 
 
 I was particularly desirous of hearing from La 
 Fayette himself some account of the relation in which 
 he stood towards Buonaparte, and of knowing his 
 opinion of the Emperor. In this I was gratified. He 
 related that, after enduring a severe imprisonment of 
 three years in an Austrian dungeon,* on which he 
 
 * In the fortress of Olmutz in Moravia. 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 1814. 
 
 La Fayette 
 and the 
 Slave- 
 
 trade. 
 
 Buona- 
 parte's 
 relation to 
 La Fayette.
 
 444 
 
 La Fayette 
 
 CHAP. xvii. 
 1814. 
 
 seemed unwilling to enlarge, he was at last set at 
 liberty because the French Directory refused to discuss 
 the terms of the treaty at Leoben until he and his 
 friends were released. Buonaparte was one of the 
 commissioners in making that treaty, and he executed 
 his orders with firmness. La Fayette went at first to 
 Hamburg, and would not proceed at once to Paris, 
 because a declaration was required of him which he 
 could not make. At the time of the negotiations about 
 him the revolution of Fructidor took place, when two of 
 the Directory were sent to Cayenne. " Now," said La 
 Fayette, " I was called upon to make such an acknow- 
 ledgment as would give all the credit of my release to 
 those remaining in power. This I refused." This 
 would have given the men then in power all the eclat of 
 his deliverance. But on the revolution which made 
 Buonaparte First Consul, he went to Paris without a 
 passport. He had scarcely arrived when he was waited 
 upon by I doubt whether Duroc or Caulaincourt, who 
 said that the First Consul wished him to return to 
 Hamburg secretly, in order that he might show his high 
 esteem for him by calling him back in a formal manner. 
 " I saw through the trick," said La Fayette, " and 
 would not be a party to it. I therefore said that I had 
 come back because I had a right, being a Frenchman 
 who had committed no crime ; that if the chief magis- 
 trate commanded me to go I would obey. I was told 
 that the First Consul meant only to do me honour. 
 Though I had defeated his scheme of doing an act of 
 ostentatious display, he received me with politeness ; 
 and for a time I was deceived, but not long, and I never
 
 and Buonaparte. 
 
 445 
 
 concealed my opinion of him. I saw him eight or ten 
 times on business, and at a fete given by Joseph 
 Buonaparte on the peace between France and America 
 (for the Directory had made a war as foolish as your 
 present war with America) we had some conversation. 
 He assured me that his designs were all in favour of 
 liberty, and that whatever might appear to be otherwise 
 would be only temporary expedients. I answered that 
 it was the direction (tendency) of some of his actions that 
 I disapproved of more than of the actions themselves. 
 On another occasion Buonaparte said to me, ' You 
 see the French are tired of liberty.' I answered, 'They 
 are tired of licentiousness, and what they have suffered 
 from the abuse of liberty makes them more anxious to 
 have real liberty, and more fit to enjoy it ; and this, 
 Citizen First Consul, the French expect from you. 
 Buonaparte turned away, but in a few minutes came 
 back and talked on indifferent subjects. After this I 
 retired into the country, and took no share in public 
 business. Buonaparte afterwards tried to involve me in 
 some sham plot, but my entire seclusion rendered that 
 impossible. When Buonaparte returned from Russia 
 he made a speech, in which he spoke of the anti- 
 monarchical principles of the first authors of the Revo- 
 lution, which made them impede the measures of the 
 Government, alluding to, but not naming, me." 
 
 I have pleasure in writing down these recollections 
 of La Fayette's words, because they are distinct, and 
 because they disprove what has been falsely asserted 
 by the partisans of Buonaparte, that La Fayette was 
 reconciled to him. 
 
 1814. 
 
 Buona- 
 parte.
 
 446 
 
 La Fayette on the Revolution. 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 1814. 
 
 La Fayette s 
 anticipa- 
 tions. 
 
 America. 
 
 Malmai- 
 son. 
 
 Of the future, La Fayette spoke with a hope which 
 it gratified me to hear, and he spoke respectfully of the 
 royal family then restored. On general subjects I have 
 a few notes worth abridging. He asserted that the 
 manners of the French, especially the lower classes, had 
 been improved by the Revolution ; that the mob of 
 France were less violent than an English mob ; and the 
 common people he thought more honest. This he 
 ascribed to the Revolution. 
 
 La Fayette is a strong partisan of America, as op- 
 posed to England. He is strongly opposed' to our 
 maritime claims, and thinks we might concede these in 
 return for the renunciation of the slave-trade by other 
 powers. 
 
 On my relating that, at the distribution of the colours, 
 I heard some exclamations of " Vive 1'Empereur," La 
 Fayette said, "You are not to suppose that this pro- 
 ceeded from love to Buonaparte. It was only a mode 
 of showing dissatisfaction with the present state of 
 things, and because it would not do to cry ' A bas le 
 roi/ or ' A bas les ministeres.' " 
 
 Of Spanish America he said, that Jefferson was of 
 opinion that those states would ultimately become inde- 
 pendent, but that this would rather retard than advance 
 civilization. 
 
 Rem* I visited the residence of Josephine at Mal- 
 maison, which has left a more distinct impression on 
 my mind than the other regal palaces of the capital. 
 One picture there impressed me so strongly that I 
 have never forgotten it. Of the artistic merits I 
 
 * Written in 1850.
 
 The Friends of the Negro. 
 
 447 
 
 know nothing. It was a prison scene. A man in 
 chains has drawn with chalk a figure of the Virgin and 
 Child, which the other prisoners are worshipping ; that 
 is, they are kneeling, all except one wretch who is in 
 despair, the officers of justice having come to take 
 him to the gallows.* 
 
 I read also in my Journal a name which brings to 
 my recollection a fact omitted in the Journal itself. 
 The name is Count St. Maurice, an elegant cavalier, 
 an emigrant and high-toned royalist, also a warm 
 abolitionist. One day, when I was present, Clarkson 
 saying that he was going to see La Fayette and Gre"- 
 goire, the Count, in a plaintive rather than reproachful 
 tone, said, "My dear sir, I wish you did not see so 
 much of those people." Clarkson replied, very gravely, 
 " Monsieur le Comte, you forget that now that I am at 
 Paris, I know but two classes of persons the friends 
 and the enemies of Africa. All the friends of Africa 
 are my friends, whatever they may be besides. You 
 and Monsieur La Fayette are the same in my eyes." 
 St. Maurice smiled and said, " I believe you are in the 
 right." 
 
 September 22nd. I was in the grand gallery at the 
 Louvre when I heard some one say, " Mrs. Siddons is 
 below." I instantly left the Raphaels and Titians, and 
 
 * " Stella drawing a Picture of the Virgin and Child on his Prison Wall." 
 Painted by Granet, at Rome, in 1810. The picture was purchased by the 
 Empress, and was afterwards transported to Munich. It now forms part of 
 the Leuchtenberg Collection, No. 245, and has been engraved by Muxel. 
 Stella, on his arrival in Rome, was arrested, but soon after found innocent and 
 liberated. So late as the end of the eighteenth century, this sketch of the 
 Madonna \vns shown to travellers in Rome. G. S. 
 
 CHAP. xvii. 
 1814. 
 
 Count St. 
 Maurice. 
 
 Mrs. 
 Siddons.
 
 448 
 
 Mrs. Siddons. Fault-finders. 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 1814. 
 
 A fault- 
 finding 
 companion 
 discarded. 
 
 French 
 Courts of 
 Justice. 
 
 went in search of her, and my Journal says : " I am 
 almost ashamed to confess that the sight of her gave 
 me a delight beyond almost any I have received in 
 Paris." I had. never seen her so near. She was walk- 
 ing with Horace Twiss's mother. I kept as near her as 
 I could with decorum, and without appearing to be 
 watching her ; yet there was something about her that 
 disturbed me. So glorious a head ought not to have 
 been covered with a small chip hat. She knit her brows, 
 too, on looking at the pictures, as if to assist a failing 
 sight. But I recognized her fascinating smile with de- 
 light, though there was a line or two about her mouth 
 which I thought coarse. 
 
 September 2$rd. At the Jardin des Plantes with E. 
 
 Hamond's friend, R , and we spent great part of 
 
 the day together. I believe it was not on this, but 
 
 some other day, when R said, " I will call for 
 
 you to-morrow," I answered, " I will thank you not to 
 call. I would rather not see anything else with you, 
 and I will tell you frankly why. I am come to Paris 
 to enjoy myself, and that enjoyment needs the accom- 
 paniment of sympathy with others. Now, you dislike 
 everything, and find fault with everything. You see 
 nothing which you do not find inferior to what you 
 have seen before. This may be all very true, but it 
 makes me very uncomfortable. I believe, if I were 
 forced to live with you, I should kill myself. So I 
 shall be glad to see you in London, but no more in 
 Paris." 
 
 Rem* I several times attended French Courts of 
 
 * Written in 1850.
 
 French Courts of Justice. 
 
 449 
 
 Justice, and heard both arguments before judges and 
 trials in criminal cases before juries. I have no remark 
 to make on the arguments, for I never understood them 
 sufficiently ; and, indeed, I very imperfectly understood 
 the examination of witnesses ; but I did understand 
 enough to enable me to come to this conclusion, that if 
 I were guilty, I should wish to be tried in England 
 if innocent, in France. Making this remark once to 
 Southey, he changed the expression and said, " The 
 English system seems to have for its object that no 
 innocent person should be unjustly found guilty the 
 French system, that no criminal should escape." Now, 
 if it be the fact that of the accused by far the greater 
 number are guilty, it will follow that injustice is more 
 frequent in the English than in the French courts. 
 
 It is customary for the admirer of English law to 
 boast of that feature of it which prohibits all attempts 
 to make the prisoner convict himself, as if the State, 
 represented in the Court, had not a right to the truth, 
 and as if a man who had violated the law were privi- 
 leged through the violation. This surely betrays want 
 of discrimination. It is right that no violence should be 
 used to compel an answer, because that may as often 
 produce falsehood as truth nor is any used in the 
 French courts ; but the prisoner is interrogated as well 
 as the prosecutor and witnesses, and the same means are 
 used to detect falsehood in all. If he refuse to answer, 
 he is made to understand the unfavourable inferences 
 that will be drawn. And this interrogation taking place 
 before the public, no great injustice can be done. On 
 this point I entirely approve of the French practice. 
 - VOL. I. G G 
 
 CHAP, xvi r. 
 1814. 
 
 Criminal 
 
 procedure 
 
 in the 
 
 Frenr.h 
 
 courts.
 
 450 
 
 Judicial Examination of the Accused. 
 
 CHAP, xvn 
 1814. 
 
 In another material respect, the practice of the English 
 and the French courts is different. In the French courts, 
 the facts being already known by preliminary proceed- 
 ings, the prisoners are heard, and then the witnesses are 
 called. Their hearing begins with " Contez a la cour les 
 faits" relate the facts to the court and then questions 
 follow. This is done in presence of the prisoner, who, 
 if he interrupts, is not silenced or reproved, as he would 
 be in England. I once heard a French prisoner exclaim, 
 " You lie ! " An English judge would be in danger of 
 falling into fits at such an outrage. The French Presi- 
 dent very quietly and even courteously said, " In what 
 does the lie consist ? " And the answer being given, he 
 went on " But you yourself said so and so." And after- 
 wards he said, " But if this is a lie, was that a lie too " 
 (stating something else the witness had said) "which you 
 did not contradict ? " In a few minutes the prisoner 
 had involved himself in contradictions which proved his 
 guilt. Who can blame this ? Publicity is unquestion- 
 ably necessary to secure this practice from abuse, and 
 there may be parts of the preliminary proceedings 
 which, if I were acquainted with them, I might dis- 
 approve of. I write only of what I witnessed. 
 
 There is always an advocate (Procureur du Roi) who 
 represents the Crown, and who gives his judgment as 
 between the prosecutor and the accused ; and he retires 
 with the judges.* 
 
 Rem.-\ One other particular struck me at once, and 
 
 * My impression respecting the French courts, as compared with the English, 
 las been confirmed by later visits to them. H. C. R. 
 f Written in 1850.
 
 Fleury, the Comedian. 
 
 451 
 
 I have urged on English lawyers the propriety of its 
 adoption in our courts but never with effect, I fear. 
 The prisoner does not stand, but has a little box to 
 himself, with a desk and papers. A soldier, as guard, 
 sits with him. And this box is so placed that he can 
 communicate with his counsel. Our law says, the ac- 
 cused are to be presumed to be innocent until they are 
 proved guilty ; and yet on their trial they are degraded 
 by being forced to stand, unless they consent to urge a 
 falsehood, as that they are ill. On application, they are 
 always allowed to sit. 
 
 On September 28th I went to the Theatre Fran^ais, 
 to see the greatest of the French comedians. I abstain 
 from writing of the French theatre, as I do of the 
 public buildings, the galleries of paintings, &c., but I 
 may make exceptions. One is in favour of a great 
 theatrical name, Fleury, whom I have seen several 
 times. He was already aged and near the end of his 
 career, yet he appeared to me to be perfect in a certain 
 class of comic characters. Genteel comedy and aged 
 characters were his department. One role made a 
 lasting impression. In the " Ecole des Bourgeois," he 
 played a Marquis who is driven to project a mesalliance 
 to recruit his finances ; but a blunder of his servant 
 defeats his plan. He delivers to the vulgar family a 
 letter which is written to the Marquis's friend, the 
 Duke. It begins, " Enfin, ce soir je m'encanaille." The 
 opening of this letter, and the repetition of the words 
 by every one of the party was excellent, especially the 
 spelling of the word encanaille by the servant. In the 
 midst of a family of enrages, the Marquis makes his 
 
 G G 2 
 
 CHAP. XVH. 
 
 1814. 
 
 Fleury.
 
 452 
 
 Madame de Stael. 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 French 
 comedy. 
 
 Madame de 
 Stael. 
 
 Adventure 
 with a 
 soldier. 
 
 appearance. The gay impudence with which he met 
 their rage reminded me of a similar character by 
 Iffland. Though I could not relish French tragedy, I 
 thought the- comedy perfection and I still think so. 
 Our best comedians are gross caricaturists in com- 
 parison. The harmonious keeping and uniformly re- 
 spectable acting at the Theatre Frangais, even in the 
 absence of their stars, are what give the French stage 
 its superiority over the English. Yet the Frangais had 
 ceased to be popular. The little Boulevard theatres 
 were crowded, while the Frangais was empty. Two 
 admirable low comedians I enjoyed this year at the 
 Porte St. Martin Brunet and Pothier. But I did not 
 this time see the two greatest French performers, 
 Talma and Mademoiselle Mars. 
 
 September 29/72. A call on Madame de Stael. She 
 expressed herself strongly in favour of the abolition 
 of the slave-trade, though she was not sanguine of 
 success. She was in Geneva when I arrived in Paris, 
 and regretted that the Clarksons left before her return. 
 From her house, the Chateau de Clichy, I walked 
 to St. Denis, and on the way met with an adventure. 
 I overtook a French soldier : he had a sunburnt face and 
 a somewhat ruffianly appearance. As I came up to 
 him, he startled me by running up and putting his 
 hands on my shoulders : he said in a loud voice, but 
 with a smiling face which at once removed all fear of 
 violence, " Ah ! vous etes Anglais : que je vous aime ! 
 si je n'avais que deux sous, vous en auriez un. Mais 
 si vous tiez Espagnol, je vous egorgerois." And then 
 he shook me as if to show me that he would execute his
 
 Spanish Cruelty. Constant and SchlegeL 
 
 453 
 
 threat. Before he had explained himself I guessed the 
 fact, and having disengaged myself from his unwelcome 
 embrace, I had a regular conversation with him, and in 
 vain tried to reason with him. He told me that, when 
 in Spain, he was taken prisoner and beaten by the 
 Spaniards. They would have killed him, he said, but 
 the " braves " English rescued him out of their hands. 
 This was the burden of his song. He exhibited his 
 wounds they were shocking and he seemed to be 
 capable of no feelings but gratitude and revenge. I 
 said, " You call me a good man ; if I had by chance 
 been born in Spain, I should have been what I am now ; 
 I could not help it." " Tant pis pour vous I would 
 kill you." " But why ? you meet with good people and 
 bad people everywhere." " Non, pas en Espagne."- 
 " What, kill me, when I have done nothing to you ?" 
 " Si ce n'etait pas vous, c'etait votre frere ; si ce n'etait 
 pas votre frere, c'etait votre cousin c'est la meme chose. 
 On ne peut pas trouver 1'individu c'est impossible." 
 To strengthen my moral arguments, I treated him with 
 a bottle of wine at an inn on the road. 
 
 October ^tJi. A dinner at Madame de StaeTs, where 
 I had an opportunity of renewing my slight acquaint- 
 ance with Benjamin Constant and William Schlegel. 
 Constant praised highly the " Dichtung und Wahrheit," 
 which our hostess does not like how should she ? The 
 naivete of the confessions and sacrifice of dignity to 
 truth were opposed to all the conventionalities to which 
 she was accustomed. Asking Schlegel for an explana- 
 tion of the title " Dichtung und Wahrheit," he said, " I 
 suppose it is used merely as an apology, if taxed wfth 
 
 CHAP.XVJI. 
 1814. 
 
 Dinner at 
 
 Madame de 
 
 Stael's. 
 
 A. W. 
 Schlegel.
 
 454 
 
 Schlegel. Chantrey. 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 Chantrey. 
 
 Travelling 
 companion. 
 
 anything." This was the poorest thing he said. 
 Schlegel asserted that Tieck was sincere in his profes- 
 sion of Catholicism. Fichte, he said, was aware before 
 his death that he had survived his fame. Schlegel 
 spoke of Rogers as the only poet of the old school ; the 
 modern English poets having taken a direction like that 
 of the Germans, though without any connection between 
 them. In answer to my inquiries, he said that a national 
 spirit was rising in Germany ; but he talked with reserve 
 on politics. Of Arndt, he said that he had not a clear 
 head, but that he had been of use by exciting a senti- 
 ment of nationality. 
 
 October ^th. At the Louvre for the last time. There 
 I met Miss Curran, Dawe, and Chantrey. A remark 
 by the latter struck me, and I made a note of it. 
 " The ancients," he said, " worked with a knowledge of 
 the place where the statue was to be, and anticipated 
 the light to which it would be exposed. If it were to 
 be in the open air, they often introduced folds in the 
 drapery, for the sake of producing a shade." He 
 pointed out to us the bad effect of light from two 
 windows falling on a column. 
 
 October %th. After a five weeks' residence, without a 
 moment's ennui, I left Paris without a moment's regret. 
 
 D was my companion. He was famous for his 
 
 meanness and love of money, which I turned to 
 account. We went the first day in the cabriolet of 
 a diligence to Amiens, where we spent the night. The 
 next day we proceeded towards the coast. I found 
 that there was only one seat in the cabriolet on this 
 occasion, price 32fr., 4ofr. being charged for the
 
 Dr. Coplcstone. 
 
 455 
 
 interior ; on which I said to D- 
 
 , " Now, we must 
 travel on fair terms. The best place, in fact, is the 
 cheapest, and I don't think it fair that one man should 
 have both advantages ; therefore I propose that who- 
 ever has the cabriolet shall pay 4<Dfr." He consented ; 
 I gave him his choice, and it was amusing to see the 
 eagerness with which he chose the interior. 
 
 My arrangement turned out well, for I had the 
 company of a very sensible, well-informed clergyman, 
 Dr. Coplestone, and we ran a round of literary and 
 political topics. We travelled all night, and breakfasted 
 at Boulogne. It was in the morning that we all walked 
 up a hill to relieve our limbs, when I saw the Doctor 
 talking to a stranger ; and referring to him, I said after- 
 wards, " Your friend." " He is no friend of mine," said 
 Coplestone, angrily ; " he is a vulgar ignorant man ; I 
 do not know what he is ; I thought he was an auctioneer 
 at first ; then I took him for a tailor : he may be any- 
 thing." I heard, afterwards from D that this 
 
 stranger had been very annoying in the coach, by 
 talking on every subject very ill. When we came to 
 breakfast he addressed his conversation to me, and 
 having used the word peccadillo, he asked me whether 
 I had ever been in Spain, to which I made no answer. 
 He went on, " Peccadillo is a Spanish word ; it means a 
 little sin ; it is a compound of two words pecca, little, 
 and dillo, sin." I happened to catch Coplestone's eye, 
 and encouraging each other, we both laid down our 
 knives and forks and roared outright.* 
 
 My first continental trip, after my call to the Bar, has 
 
 * Coplestone published a collection of letters, &c., with a Memoir of Lord 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 Coplestone.
 
 456 
 
 Schlegel on 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 1814. 
 
 Review of 
 trip to 
 Paris. 
 
 Kastner, 
 
 Walk from 
 
 Cambridge 
 
 to Bury. 
 
 F. Schlegel. 
 
 afforded me great pleasure, without at all indisposing 
 me to go on with my trial of the Bar, as a profession. I 
 left many friends in Germany, but in France I have not 
 formed a single acquaintance which is likely to ripen 
 into friendship. A singular fact, because I believe the 
 character of my own mind has much more of the 
 French than of the German in it. 
 
 October \^th. Received a call from Tiarks, for whom 
 I had purchased some books. Kastner, I learned, is still 
 in London. His endeavours to obtain money for the 
 Prussians have been successful, and he is in good spirits 
 about his own affairs. He hopes to have an appoint- 
 ment on the Rhine ; and he believes a University will 
 be formed at Bonn. 
 
 October 2yd. Walked from Cambridge to Bury. 
 During the greater part of the time I was reading 
 Schlegel " Ueber die Sprache und Weisheit der Indier." 
 The book on language I could not follow or relish, but 
 the second book on Indian philosophy I found very 
 interesting, and far more intelligible than the other 
 philosophical writings of the author. He treats of the 
 leading doctrines of the Indian philosophers, and re- 
 presents them as forming epochs in Indian history. The 
 notions concerning the Emanation from the divine mind 
 
 Dudley, my slight acquaintance at Corunna. On the appearance of this work 
 an epigram was circulated, ascribed to Croker, 
 
 "Than the first martyr's, Dudley's fate 
 
 Still harder must be owned, 
 Stephen was only stoned to death, 
 
 Ward has been Coplestoned." 
 Samuel Rogers has the credit of having written 
 
 " Ward has no heart, they say, but I deny it, 
 He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it." H. C. R.
 
 Indian Philosophy. 
 
 457 
 
 are connected with the doctrine of the pre-existence and 
 transmigration of the soul. These ideas were followed 
 by the worship of nature and its power, out of which 
 sprung the tasteful and various mythology of the 
 Greeks. The doctrine of two principles is treated by 
 Schlegel with more respect than I expected, and that 
 which followed it, and came out of it Pantheism with 
 far less. He asserts of Pantheism what I have long 
 felt to be equally true of Schelling's Absolute, that it 
 is destructive of all moral impressions, and productive 
 merely of indifference to good and evil. This little 
 book is an admirable hortative to the study of Oriental 
 literature. Schlegel regards the study of Indian philo- 
 sophy as a powerful stimulus to the mind, to preserve it 
 from the fatal consequences of modern scepticism and 
 infidelity. It also, he thinks, facilitates the comprehen- 
 sion of the Bible. 
 
 October 271/1. In the forenoon I went for a few 
 minutes into the fair. It made me melancholy. The 
 sight of Bury Fair affects me like conversation about a 
 deceased friend. Perhaps it would be more correct to 
 say about a friend with whom all acquaintance has 
 ceased. I have no pleasure whatever now in a scene 
 which formerly gave me delight, and I am half-grieved, 
 half-ashamed, to find myself or things so much altered. 
 This is foolish, for why should the man retain the 
 attachments of the boy ? But every loss of youthful 
 taste or pleasure is a partial death. 
 
 October $ist. In the afternoon went to Flaxman's. 
 Found Miss Flaxman alone. From her I learnt that, 
 about six weeks ago, Mrs. Flaxman was seized with a 
 
 CHAP, xvii 
 1814 
 
 Bury Fair. 
 
 Mrs. Flax- 
 man.
 
 458 
 
 Mrs. Flaxman' s Illness. 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 Paralysis. 
 
 Flaxman. 
 Mr. Gunn. 
 
 paralytic stroke, which had deprived her of the use of 
 her limbs on one side for a time, but from which she 
 had since in a great measure recovered. She is now in 
 Paris with Miss Denman, where she is able to walk. 
 This seizure, though she may survive it many years, will 
 sensibly affect her during her life. I should, indeed, 
 have thought such a blow a sentence of death, with 
 execution respited. But Anthony Robinson informs 
 me that he had a paralytic stroke many years 
 ago, from which he has suffered no evil consequences 
 since. I observed, both to Miss Flaxman this day, 
 and to Anthony Robinson the day after, that I had 
 a presentiment I should myself at some time be 
 attacked with paralysis or apoplexy. They treated this 
 idea as a whim, but I have still the feeling ; ' for I 
 frequently suffer from dizziness, and sometimes feel a 
 tightness over my eyes and in my brain, which, if in- 
 creased, would, I fancy, produce a paralytic affection. 
 These apprehensions are, however, by no means painful. 
 I am not acquainted with any mode of death which is 
 less fearful in imagination.* 
 
 November \$th. Dined with Mr. Porden, having 
 invited myself thither. A Captain Stavely and Miss 
 Flaxman were there, and afterwards Mr. Flaxman and 
 a Mr. Gunn came. The evening was very pleasantly 
 spent. We talked about Gothic architecture. Mr. 
 Flaxman said he considered it but a degeneracy from 
 the Roman. I observed that it was not enough to say 
 that generally, it should be shown how ; that as the 
 
 * This anticipation proved wholly groundless, though Mr. Robinson com- 
 plained of occasional dizziness till his death.
 
 Flaxman on Architecture. 
 
 459 
 
 architects of the Middle Ages could not but have some 
 knowledge of the ancient Roman works, of course this 
 knowledge must have influenced their taste, but they 
 might still have views of their own ; and certainly the 
 later and purer Gothic did not pretend to the same 
 objects. Flaxman did not object to this. He observed 
 that Gothic, like other architecture, sprang out of the 
 wants of the age, and was to be explained from the 
 customs of the time. The narrow lancet windows were 
 used when glass was little or not at all known, and when 
 a cloth was put up. At this time there were no 
 buttresses, for they were not rendered necessary. But 
 when, glass being introduced, large windows followed, 
 and thin walls were used, buttresses became necessary. 
 It was casually observed this evening, that the Greeks 
 had little acquaintance with the arch. Mr. Gunn 
 observed that the first deviation from the Greek canon 
 was the placing the arch upon instead of between the 
 pillars.* The Greek architecture was adapted to wooden 
 buildings : all the architectural ornaments consist of 
 parts familiar to builders in wood. The arch was easier 
 than the stone architraves, &c., for it might consist of 
 small stones. Speaking of the Lombard columns, Mr. 
 Flaxman said the old architects in the Middle Ages 
 frequently cut up the ancient pillars. The circular 
 corners to the pillars in our churches are frequently, 
 subsequent additions to the pillars to give them grace. 
 Mr. Porden is of opinion that Gothic architecture has 
 
 * In Grecian architecture the arch, as a principle of construction, is not to 
 be found. It was known in the East, and has been met with in the foundations 
 of the Egyptian Pyramids. 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 Gothic ar- 
 chitecture.
 
 460 
 
 Symbolism of Ornament. 
 
 CHAP.XVII 
 1814. 
 
 Brougham 
 and Ellen- 
 borough. 
 
 its origin in the East, and Mr. Flaxman seems also to 
 favour this idea. Porden says the historic evidence is 
 great, and the Spanish churches furnish the chain of 
 communication. Flaxman derived the Norman zig-zag 
 from the incapacity of the workmen to produce the 
 flower which was used by the Greeks and Romans. 
 Speaking of ornaments, he said they were all significant 
 among the Greeks : the pattern called the Grecian Key, 
 for instance, was meant to represent the Labyrinth at 
 Crete ; and so of a number of decorations which we 
 use without discernment, but which had not lost their 
 symbolic sense among the ancients. Mr. Gunn* I found 
 almost an intolerant enemy to the Gothic. He spoke 
 of " extravagant deviation from good taste " &c., yet I 
 made him confess that the Gothic, though farther from 
 the Greek than the Saxon, was far more beautiful, 
 because it had acquired a consistency and character 
 of its own. 
 
 November i^th. Spent the forenoon in court. We 
 were all much pleased by a manly and spirited reply of 
 Brougham to Lord Ellenborough. A man convicted of 
 a libel against Jesus Christ offered an affidavit in miti- 
 gation, which Lord Ellenborough at first refused to 
 receive, on the ground that if the defendant were the 
 author of the book, there was nothing by which he 
 could swear. When Brougham rose to remark on this, 
 Ellenborough said, " Mr. Brougham, if you are 
 acquainted with this person's faith, you had better 
 
 * I afterwards heard that Mr. Gunn, of Norfolk, a man of taste and a 
 traveller, was the clergyman who married the Duke of Sussex to Lady 
 Augusta Murray. This involved him in embarrassments, and was a bar to his 
 future promotion. H. C. R.
 
 Lamb on " The Excursion? 
 
 461 
 
 suggest some other sanction ; you had better confer 
 with him." Brougham said in reply, " It is very un- 
 pleasant to be thus mixed up with my client, of whom 
 I know nothing but that I am his retained advocate. 
 As a lawyer and a gentleman, I protest against such in- 
 sinuations." This he repeated in atone very impressive. 
 Lord Ellenborough was evidently mortified, and said 
 in a faint voice that no insinuation was intended. 
 
 November ijth. After nine I went to Charles Lamb's, 
 whose parties are now only once a month. I played a 
 couple of rubbers pleasantly, and afterwards chatted with 
 Hazlitt till one o'clock. He is become an Edinburgh 
 Reviewer through the recommendation of Lady Mack- 
 intosh, who had sent to the Champion office to know the 
 author of the articles on Institutions. Hazlitt sent 
 those and other writings to Jeffrey, and has been in 
 a very flattering manner enrolled in the corps. This 
 has put him in good spirits, and he now again hopes 
 that his talents will be appreciated and become a 
 subsistence to him. 
 
 November 2ist. In the evening I stepped over to 
 Lamb, and sat with him from ten to eleven. He was 
 very chatty and pleasant. Pictures and poetry were 
 the subjects of our talk. He thinks no description in 
 " The Excursion" so good as the history of the country 
 parson who had been a courtier. In this I agree with 
 him. But he dislikes " The Magdalen," which he says 
 would be as good in prose ; in which I do not agree 
 with him. 
 
 November 2$rd. This week I finished Wordsworth's 
 poem. It has afforded me less intense pleasure on the 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 1814. 
 
 Hazlitt at 
 C. Lamb's. 
 
 C. Lamb. 
 
 Words- 
 worth's 
 Excursion.
 
 462 
 
 " The Excursion? Kcan's Macbeth. 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 Kean as 
 Macbeth. 
 
 whole, perhaps, than I had expected, but it will be a 
 source of frequent gratification. The wisdom and high 
 moral character of the work are beyond anything of the 
 same kind with which I am acquainted, and the spirit 
 of the poetry flags much less frequently than might be 
 expected. There are passages which run heavily, tales 
 which are prolix, and reasonings which are spun out, 
 but in general the narratives are exquisitely tender. 
 That of the courtier parson, who retains in solitude the 
 feelings of high society, whose vigour of mind is un- 
 conquerable, and who, even after the death of his 
 wife, appears able for a short time to bear up against 
 desolation and wretchedness, by the powers of his 
 native temperament, is most delightful. Among the 
 discussions, that on Manufactories, in the eighth book, is 
 admirably managed, and forms, in due subordination to 
 the incomparable fourth book, one of the chief excel- 
 lences of the poem. Wordsworth has succeeded better 
 in light and elegant painting in this poem than in any 
 other. His Hanoverian and Jacobite are very sweet 
 pictures. 
 
 December \st. Went to Drury Lane Theatre, where 
 my pleasure was less than I had expected. Kean is not 
 an excellent Macbeth. Nature has denied him a heroic 
 figure and a powerful voice. A mere faculty of ex- 
 hibiting the stronger malignant passions is not enough 
 for such a character. There is no commanding dignity 
 in Kean, and without this one does not see how he 
 could so easily overawe the Scottish nobility. His 
 dagger scene pleased me less than Kemble's. He saw 
 the dagger too soon, and without any preparatory pause.
 
 Cribb, the Boxer. 
 
 463 
 
 Kemble was admirable in the effect he gave to this very 
 bold conception. In his eye you could see when he lost 
 sight of the dagger. But in the scene in which he 
 returns from the murder Kean looks admirably. His 
 death is also very grand. After receiving his death- 
 wound he staggers and gives a feeble blow. After 
 falling he crawls on the floor to reach again his sword, 
 and dies as he touches it. This is no less excellent 
 than his dying in Richard, but varied from it ; so that 
 what is said of Cawdor in the play may be said of 
 Kean, " Nothing in his life became him like the leaving 
 it." In no other respect did he impress me beyond an 
 ordinary actor. 
 
 December "jth. Met Thomas Barnes at a party at 
 Collier's, and chatted with him till late. He related 
 that, at Cambridge, having had lessons from a boxer, he 
 gave himself airs, and meeting with a fellow sitting on 
 a stile in a field, who did not make way for him as he 
 expected, and as he thought due to a gownsman, he 
 asked him what he meant, and said he had a great 
 mind to thrash him. " The man smiled," said Barnes, 
 " put his hand on my shoulder, and said, ' Young man, 
 I'm Cribb.' I was delighted ; gave him my hand ; took 
 him to my room, where I had a wine party, and he was 
 the lion." Cribb was at that time the Champion of 
 England. 
 
 December nth. After reading at. home from eight to 
 ten I called on Miss Lamb, and chatted with her. She 
 was not unwell, but she had undergone great fatigue 
 from writing an article about needlework for the new 
 Ladies' British Magazine. She spoke of writing as a 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 Barnes. 
 
 AfissLamb.
 
 464 
 
 Miss Lamb. Architecture. 
 
 CHAP. xvn. 
 1814. 
 
 Milner on 
 Ecclesiasti- 
 cal Archi- 
 tecture. 
 
 most painful occupation, which only necessity could 
 make her attempt. She has been learning Latin merely 
 to assist her in acquiring a correct style. Yet, while she 
 speaks of inability to write, what grace and talent has 
 she not manifested in " Mrs. Leicester's School," &c. 
 
 December i8t/i. Finished Milner on "Ecclesiastical 
 Architecture in England." He opposes Whittington's 
 opinion, that Gothic architecture originated in the East, 
 and that it attained perfection in France before it did in 
 England. Neither question interests me greatly ; what 
 is truly curious and worthy of remark is the progress of 
 the mind in the cultivation of art. All the arts of life 
 are originally the produce of necessity ; and it is not till 
 the grosser wants of our nature are supplied that we 
 have leisure to detect a beauty in what was at first only 
 a relief. How each necessary part of a building became 
 an architectural ornament is shown by the theoretical 
 writers on ancient architecture. The same has not yet 
 been done for Gothic architecture ; and in this alone 
 the study of modern art is less interesting than that of 
 the ancient. But still it would be highly interesting to 
 inquire how the architecture of the moderns sprang out 
 of the art of the ancients, and how different climates, 
 possibly, and certainly different countries, supplied 
 various elements in the delightful works of the Middle 
 Ages. As to the books I have read, and the different 
 theories in each, I cannot appreciate them, because they 
 appeal to facts with which I am unacquainted, and each 
 disputes the existence of what the others confidently 
 maintain. For instance, the writers are still at variance 
 about what is surely capable of being ascertained, viz.
 
 A Talk about Wordsworth. 
 
 465 
 
 whether there be any real specimen of the Gothic in 
 Asia. 
 
 December iqth. Took tea with the Flaxmans, and 
 read to them and Miss Vardel Coleridge's " Christabel," 
 with which they were all delighted, Flaxman more than 
 I expected. I also read some passages out of " The 
 Excursion." Flaxman took umbrage at some mystical 
 expressions in the fragment in the Preface, in which 
 Wordsworth talks of seeing Jehovah tmalarmed* "If 
 my brother had written that," said Flaxman, " I should 
 say, 'Burn it.'" But he admitted that Wordsworth could 
 not mean anything impious in it. Indeed I was unable, 
 and am still, to explain the passage. And Lamb's 
 explanation is unsatisfactory, viz. that there are deeper 
 sufferings in the mind of man than in any imagined 
 hell. If Wordsworth means that all notions about the 
 personality of God, as well as the locality of hell, are 
 but attempts to individualize notions concerning Mind, 
 he will be much more of a metaphysical philosopher 
 nach deutscher A rt, than I had any conception of. And 
 yet this otherwise glorious and magnificent fragment 
 tends thitherwards, as far as I can discern any tendency 
 in it. 
 
 December 2Qth. Late in the evening Lamb called, to 
 sit with me while he smoked his pipe. I had called on 
 him late last night, and he seemed absurdly grateful 
 
 * "All strength all terror, single or in bands, 
 That ever was put forth in personal form 
 Jehovah with his thunder, and the choir 
 Of shouting angels, and the empyreal thrones 
 I pass them unalarmed." 
 
 (Preface to " The Excursion.") 
 
 VOL. I. H H 
 
 CHAP.XVH. 
 1814. 
 
 Flaxman 
 on Words- 
 worth's 
 Excursion. 
 
 I.amb.
 
 466 
 
 Miss O'Neil. Brentano. 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 Miss 
 O'Neil. 
 
 The 
 
 Brent anos. 
 
 for the visit. He wanted society, being alone. I ab- 
 stained from inquiring after his sister, and trust he will 
 appreciate the motive. 
 
 December zyd. Saw Miss O'Neil in Isabella. She 
 was, as Amyot well said, "a hugging actress." Sen- 
 sibility shown in grief and fondness was her forte her 
 only talent. She is praised for her death scenes, but 
 they are the very opposite of Kean's, of which I have 
 spoken. In Kean, you see the ruling passion strong, 
 in death that is, the passion of the individual. Miss 
 O'Neil exhibits the sufferings that are common to all 
 who are in pain. To imitate death closely is dis- 
 gusting. 
 
 December 2$th. I called on George Brentano, and 
 was greatly interested by his account of his family, and 
 especially of my former friend, his brother Christian. 
 During the last ten years Christian has been managing 
 the estates of his family in Bohemia, where, says his 
 brother, he has been practising a number of whimsical 
 absurdities. Among other economical projects, he con- 
 ceived the plan of driving a number of sheep into a 
 barn and forcing them, by flogging, &c., to tread the 
 grain, instead of using a flail. To show that animals 
 might be made to sustain the remedies which art has 
 discovered for human miseries, he broke the legs of 
 some cocks and hens, in order to make them walk with 
 wooden legs. 
 
 Of politics George Brentano spoke freely. He is 
 not so warmly anti-Buonapartist as I could have wished, 
 but he is still patriotic. He wishes for a concentration 
 of German power.
 
 A Religion of Slavery. 
 
 467 
 
 December 2jth. Rode to Witham on the outside of 
 the Colchester coach, and amused myself by reading 
 Middleton's "Letter from Rome," a very amusing as 
 well as interesting work. His proof that a great 
 number of the rites and ceremonies of the Romish 
 Church are derived from the Pagan religion is very 
 complete and satisfactory. And he urges his argument 
 against the abuses of the Roman Church with no 
 feelings unfavourable to Christianity. That the earliest 
 Christians voluntarily assimilated the new faith and its 
 rites to the ancient superstition, in order to win souls, 
 and with that accommodating spirit which St. Paul seems 
 to have sanctioned, cannot be doubted. It admits of a 
 doubt how far such a practice is so entirely bad as rigid 
 believers now assert. Certainly these peculiarities are 
 not the most mischievous excrescences which have 
 gradually formed themselves on the surface of the noble 
 and sublimely simple system of Jesus Christ. The 
 worst of these adscititious appendages may be looked 
 upon as bad poetry ; but the ineradicable and intoler- 
 able vice of Romanism is the infallibility of the Church, 
 and the consequent intolerance of its priests. It is a 
 religion of slavery. 
 
 CHAP.XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 H H 2
 
 468 
 
 Wordsworth and Pantheism. 
 
 CM. xvin. 
 1815. 
 
 The 
 
 Eclectic 
 Review on 
 Words- 
 worth's 
 Excursion. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 1815. 
 
 January ^rd. My visit to Witham was made partly 
 that I might have the pleasure of reading " The Excur- 
 sion" to Mrs. W. Pattisson. The second perusal of this 
 poem has gratified me still more than the first, and my 
 own impressions were not removed by the various 
 criticisms I became acquainted with. I also read to 
 Mrs. Pattisson the Eclectic Review. It is a highly enco- 
 miastic article, rendering ample justice to the poetical 
 talents of the author, but raising a doubt as to the 
 religious character of the poem. It is insinuated that 
 Nature is a sort of God throughout, and consistently 
 with the Calvinistic orthodoxy of the reviewer, the 
 lamentable error of representing a love of Nature as 
 a sort of purifying state of mind, and the study of 
 Nature as a sanctifying process is emphatically pointed 
 out 
 
 Mrs. Pattisson further objected that, in Wordsworth, 
 there is a want of sensibility, or rather passion ; and 
 she even maintained that one of the reasons why I 
 admire him so much is that I never was in love. We 
 disputed on this head, and it was at last agreed between 
 us that Wordsworth has no power because he has no 
 inclination to describe the passion of an unsuccessful
 
 Opinions about " The Excursion" 
 
 469 
 
 lover, but that he is eminently happy in his description 
 of connubial felicity. We read also the Edinburgh 
 review of the poem. It is a very severe and contemp- 
 tuous article. Wordsworth is treated as incurable, and 
 the changes are rung on the old keys with great 
 vivacity affectation, bad taste, mysticism, &c. He is 
 reproached with having written more feebly than before. 
 A ludicrous statement of the story is given, which will 
 not impose on many, for Homer or the Bible might be 
 so represented. But though the attack on Wordsworth 
 will do little mischief among those who are already 
 acquainted with Edinburgh Review articles, it will close 
 up the eyes of many who might otherwise have re- 
 covered their sight. 
 
 Perhaps, after all, "The Excursion" will leave Mr. 
 Wordsworth's admirers and contemners where they 
 were. Each will be furnished with instances to 
 strengthen his own persuasions. Certainly I could wish 
 for a somewhat clearer development of the author's 
 opinions, for the retrenchment of some of the uninte- 
 resting interlocutory matter, for the exclusion of the 
 tale of the angry, avaricious, and unkind woman, and 
 curtailments in some of the other narratives. But, with 
 these deductions from the worth of the poem, I do not 
 hesitate to place it among the noblest works of the 
 human intellect, and to me it is one of the most de- 
 lightful. What is good is of the best kind of goodness, 
 and the passages are not few which place the author on 
 a level with Milton. It is true Wordsworth is not an 
 epic poet ; but it is also true that what lives in the 
 hearts of readers from the works of Milton is not the 
 
 CH. xviii. 
 1815. 
 
 The 
 
 Edinburgh 
 review of 
 The Ex- 
 cursion.
 
 470 
 
 Goethe s Zest in Living. 
 
 CH. xvni. 
 1815. 
 
 Goethe's 
 A utobio- 
 graphy. 
 
 Goethe s zest 
 in living. 
 
 Erskine. 
 
 epic poem. Milton's story has merit unquestionably ; 
 but it is rather a lyric than an epic narrative. Words- 
 worth is purely and exclusively a lyric poet, in the 
 extended use of that term. 
 
 January Wi. Called on Mrs. Clarkson (at Bury), and 
 talked with her about "The Excursion." She had received 
 a letter from Wordsworth himself, in which he men- 
 tioned the favourable as well as unfavourable opinions 
 he had already heard. 
 
 January 2\st. On my ride to London outside the 
 Bury coach I read part of Goethe's Autobiography 
 (3rd vol.) with great pleasure. It is a delightful work, but 
 must be studied, not read as a mere personal history. 
 His account of the " Systeme de la Nature" and of his 
 theological opinions is peculiarly interesting. All that 
 respects his own life and feelings is delightfully told. It 
 is a book to make a man wish to live, if life were a thing 
 he had not already experienced. There is in Goethe 
 such a zest in living. The pleasures of sense and 
 thought, of imagination and the affections, appear to 
 have been all possessed by him in a more exuberant 
 degree than in any man who has ever renewed his life 
 by writing it. He appears in his youth to have had 
 something even of religious enthusiasm. It would be 
 interesting to know how he lost it, but we shall hardly 
 be gratified by a much longer continuance of this in- 
 comparable memoir. 
 
 January 2~$rd. Called on Amyot. He informs me 
 that Lord Erskine is writing a life of C. J. Fox. 
 This work will determine what is at present doubtful 
 whether Erskine has any literary talent. I shall be
 
 Anecdotes of Judges. 
 
 471 
 
 gratified if the book does the author and subject credit; 
 for it is lamentable to witness the premature waste of a 
 mind so active as that of the greatest jury-orator. And 
 it has been supposed that since his retreat from the 
 Chancellorship he has devoted himself merely to 
 amusement.* 
 
 January 26th. Dined at Mr. Gurney's.-f- He appeared 
 to advantage surrounded by his family. The conversa- 
 tion consisted chiefly of legal anecdote. Of Graham it 
 was related, that in one case which respected some 
 parish rights, and in which the parish of A. B. was fre- 
 quently adverted to, he said in his charge, " Gentlemen, 
 there is one circumstance very remarkable in this case, 
 that both the plaintiff's and defendant's counsel have 
 talked a great deal about one A. B., and that neither of 
 them has thought proper to call him as a witness ! ! " 
 It was Graham who, one day, at the Old Bailey, having 
 omitted to pass sentence of death on a prisoner, and 
 being told that he had forgotten it, exclaimed, very 
 gravely, " Dear me, I beg his pardon, I am sure!" The 
 late Justice Willes was spoken of as having had a 
 habit of interrupting the Counsel ; and on such an 
 
 occasion said to him, "Your Lordship is even a 
 
 greater man than your father. The Chief Baron used 
 to understand me after I had done, but your Lordship 
 understands me before I begin." 
 
 January y^th. Dined at the Hall. After dinner went 
 to Flaxman's. He was very chatty and pleasant, and 
 related some curious anecdotes of Sharp the engraver, 
 
 * In 1825 Fox's collected speeches were published, with a short biographical 
 and critical introduction by Erskine, six vols. 
 
 f Afterwards one of the Barons of the Exchequer. 
 
 CH. xvm. 
 1815. 
 
 Anecdotes. 
 
 Sharp the 
 engraver.
 
 472 
 
 Mental Delusions of Sharp, &c. 
 
 CH. xvni. 
 
 '815. 
 
 Blake. 
 
 Barry. 
 
 Serjeant 
 Davy. 
 
 Jekyll. 
 
 who seems the ready dupe of any and every religious 
 fanatic. I have already referred to his notion, that 
 he was about to accompany the Jews under the 
 guidance of Brothers to the Promised Land.* Sharp 
 became a warm partisan of Joanna Southcott, and 
 endeavoured to make a convert of Blake ; but, as Flax- 
 man judiciously observed, such men as Blake are not 
 fond of playing second fiddle. Blake lately told Flax- 
 man that he had had a violent dispute with the angels 
 on some subject, and had driven them away. Barry 
 had delusions of another kind. He informed Flaxman 
 that he could not go out of his house on account of the 
 danger he incurred of assassination. And in the lecture 
 room of the Academy he spoke of his house being 
 broken into and robbed, and fixing his eyes on Smirke 
 and other head Academicians, said, " These were not 
 common robbers." 
 
 February ^rd. Dined with Walter ; Combe and 
 Fraser were there. Combe related an anecdote of 
 Serjeant Davy. The Serjeant was no lawyer, but an 
 excellent Nisi Prius advocate, having great shrewdness 
 and promptitude. On one occasion Lord Mansfield 
 said he should sit on Good Friday, there being a great 
 press of business. It was said no barrister would attend, 
 and in fact no one did ; but the Chief Justice tried the 
 causes with the attorneys alone. When the proposal 
 was made to the Bar, Serjeant Davy said to Lord 
 Mansfield, " There has been no precedent since the time 
 of Pontius Pilate." 
 
 I heard the other day of Jekyll the following pun. 
 
 * See page 54.
 
 Jckyll. Miss O'Neil and Young. 
 
 473 
 
 He said, " Erskine used to hesitate very much, and 
 could not speak well after dinner. I dined with him 
 once at the Fishmongers' Company. He made such 
 sad work of speechifying, that I asked him whether 
 it was in honour of the Company that he floundered 
 so." 
 
 February \2th. Called on Thelwall, whom I had not 
 seen for a long time. Mrs. Thelwall looked ill ; he, 
 bating a little hard riding on his hobby, was not unplea- 
 sant. He is nearly at the close of his epic poem, which 
 he talked about in 1799, when I visited him in Wales. At 
 least there is no precipitation here. He talked of " The 
 Excursion" as containing finer verses than there are 
 in Milton, and as being in versification most admirable ; 
 but then Wordsworth borrows without acknowledgment 
 from Thelwall himself ! ! 
 
 March ^th. Dined at Collier's. After dinner took a 
 hasty cup of tea with Anthony Robinson, Junr., and 
 Miss Lamb, and went with them to Covent Garden 
 Theatre to see Miss O'Neil. We sat in the first row, 
 and thus had a near view of her. She did not appear 
 to me a great actress, but still I was much pleased with 
 her. She is very graceful without being very pretty. 
 There is an interesting tenderness and gentleness, the 
 impression of which is, however, disturbed by a voice 
 which I still find harsh. In her unimpassioned acting 
 she pleases from her appearance merely, but in moments 
 of great excitement she wants power. Her sobs in the 
 last act of " The Stranger " were very pathetic, but her 
 general acting in the first scenes was not that of a 
 person habitually melancholy. Young is a mere copy 
 
 CH. xvni. 
 1815. 
 
 Thelwall. 
 
 Miss 
 O'Neil. 
 
 Young.
 
 474 
 
 " Waverley" published. 
 
 CH. xvni. 
 1815. 
 
 Ma thews. 
 
 First ap- 
 pearance of 
 Waverley. 
 
 of Kemble throughout in " The Stranger," but certainly 
 a very respectable copy. 
 
 After accompanying Miss Lamb to the Temple I 
 returned to see " The Sleep-walker." Mathews's imita- 
 tions of the actors in his sleep were exceedingly droll ; 
 and his burlesque acting as laughable as anything I 
 ever saw or heard in my life, but of course mere farce 
 and buffoonery. 
 
 February *>th. Dined with the Colliers. After din- 
 ner, Mrs. Collier having lent me " Waverley," I returned 
 to my chambers, and having shut myself within a double 
 door, I took my tea alone and read a great part of the 
 first volume. 
 
 The writer has united to the ordinary, qualities of 
 works of prose fiction excellences of an unusual kind. 
 The portraits of Baron Bradwardine, a pedantic High- 
 land laird, and of Fergus, a chivalrous rebel, in whom 
 generosity and selfishness, self-devotion and ambition, 
 are so dexterously blended and entangled that we feel, 
 as in real life, unable to disentangle the skein, are very 
 finely executed. The robber, Donald Bean, the assassin, 
 Callum Beg, the Lieutenant, and all the subordinate 
 appendages to a Highland sovereignty, are given in such 
 a manner as to carry with them internal evidence of 
 their genuineness. And the book has passages of great 
 descriptive excellence. The author's sense of the 
 romantic and picturesque in nature is not so delicate, 
 or his execution so powerful, as Mrs. RadclifFe's, but his 
 paintings of men and manners are more valuable. The 
 incidents are not so dexterously contrived, and the 
 author has not produced a very interesting personage in
 
 Buonaparte from Elba. 
 
 475 
 
 his hero, Waverley, who, as his name was probably 
 intended to indicate, is ever hesitating between two 
 kings and two mistresses. I know not that he meant 
 to symbolize the two princes and the two ladies. Flora, 
 whom Waverley at last leaves, certainly bears with her 
 more of our reverence and admiration than Rose ; but 
 we are persuaded that the latter will make her husband 
 happier than he could be with so sublime a personage 
 as her romantic rival. There is more than the usual 
 portion of good sense in this book, which may enjoy, 
 though not immortality, at least a long life. 
 
 March \^th. (At Royston.) The news of the day 
 was alarming. Before I left town the intelligence 
 reached us that Buonaparte had entered France, but 
 it was not till to-day that I feared seriously that he 
 might at last succeed in displacing the present Govern- 
 ment. Now (I write on the I5th) it appears that he is 
 at Lyons, and one cannot but fear that he has the army 
 with him. If so, the case is dreadful indeed. I fear 
 the French are so imitative a people, that if any one 
 Marshal or considerable corps espouse his cause, all 
 the others will follow. 
 
 On the first blow, perhaps, everything depends ; for 
 what the French have hitherto most anxiously avoided 
 is civil war. There have not yet been in France two 
 parties sufficiently strong to secure to their partisans 
 the treatment of prisoners of war. The insurgents of 
 La Vendee have always been considered as rebels, and 
 so will be, I think it probable, the adherents of Louis 
 or Buonaparte. If the parties were at all balanced, the 
 interference of the Foreign Powers would at once decide 
 
 CH. xviii. 
 1815. 
 
 Buona- 
 parte.
 
 476 
 
 A Party at Alsage^s. 
 
 CH. xviii. 
 1815. 
 
 Hart. 
 
 Hazlitt' s 
 Buona- 
 partism. 
 
 the contest. But, if that interference take place too 
 soon, will it not determine the neutral party to embrace 
 the cause of the ex-Emperor ? And yet if there be no 
 interference, will not the army be decidedly on the side 
 of the military chieftain ? 
 
 April %th. Went to Bury by the coach. Finding 
 Hart was alone inside, I joined him, and never had a 
 more pleasant ride. Hart was very chatty and very 
 
 agreeable. Of Mr. Hart seems when young to 
 
 have thought very rightly. Mr. passed then for 
 
 a great man among good people. Hart said, " When I 
 was a little boy he shocked me by saying to a man who 
 was lamenting his backslidings to him, ' Ah ! sir, you 
 must not take these things too much to heart ; you 
 must recollect that you were predestined to do them?" 
 A use of the doctrine of Necessity which shocked a 
 sensible child of ten years old. 
 
 April i$tk. I called at the Colliers', and finding that 
 Miss Lamb was gone to Alsager's, from whom I had an 
 invitation, I also went. There was a rather large party, 
 and I stayed till near two o'clock, playing whist ill, for 
 which I was scolded by Captain Burney, and debating 
 with Hazlitt, in which I was also unsuccessful, as far 
 as the talent of the disputation was involved, though 
 Hazlitt was wrong, as well as offensive, in almost all he 
 said. When pressed, he does not deny what is bad in 
 the character of Buonaparte. And yet he triumphs 
 and rejoices in the late events. Hazlitt and myself 
 once felt alike on politics. And now our hopes and 
 fears are directly opposed. He retains all his hatred of 
 kings and bad governments, and believing them to be
 
 Hazlitt as Buonapartist. 
 
 477 
 
 incorrigible, he, from a principle of revenge, rejoices 
 that they are punished. I am indignant to find the 
 man who might have been their punisher become their 
 imitator, and even surpassing them all in guilt. Hazlitt 
 is angry with the friends of liberty for weakening their 
 strength by joining with the common foe against 
 Buonaparte, by which the old governments are so much 
 assisted, even in their attempts against the general 
 liberty. I am not shaken by this consequence, because 
 I think, after all, that, should the governments succeed 
 in the worst projects imputed to them, still the evil will 
 be infinitely less than that which would arise from 
 Buonaparte's success. I say, " Destroy him, at any rate, 
 and take the consequences." Hazlitt says, " Let the 
 enemy of the old tyrannical governments triumph, and 
 I am glad, and do not much care how the new govern- 
 ment turns out." Not that I am indifferent to the 
 government which the successful kings of Europe may 
 establish, or that Hazlitt has lost all love for liberty, 
 but that his hatred and my fears predominate and 
 absorb all weaker impressions. This I believe to be the 
 great difference between us. 
 
 April i6th. In the evening, in my chambers, enjoyed 
 looking over Wordsworth's new edition of his poems. 
 The supplement to his preface I wish he had left un- 
 written. His reproaches of the bad taste of the times 
 will be ascribed to merely personal feelings, and to 
 disappointment. But his manly avowal of his sense of 
 his own poetic merit I by no means censure. His 
 preface contains subtle remarks on poetry, but they are 
 not clear ; and I wish he would incorporate all his 
 
 CH. xvin. 
 1815. 
 
 worth.
 
 478 
 
 Buonapartists and A nti-Buonapartists. 
 
 CH. xvin. 
 1815. 
 
 Burrell. 
 
 A. Kobin- 
 son. 
 
 Quayle. 
 
 critical ideas into a work of taste, in either the dialogue 
 or novel form ; otherwise his valuable suggestions are in 
 danger of being lost. His classification of his poems 
 displeases me from an obvious fault, that it is partly 
 subjective and partly objective. 
 
 April I///*. Spent the forenoon in the Hall, without 
 interest. The Court rose early, and I walked home- 
 wards with Burrell. He is a zealous anti-Buonapartist, 
 and on high principles. It is a pleasure to talk with so 
 noble-minded a man. He observed that Buonaparte, if 
 sincere, could not possibly remain a friend to peace. 
 Like Satan, when peace was restored, ease would lead 
 him to recant " vows made in pain, as violent and void." 
 It is contrary to human nature that such a mind could 
 ever rest in tranquillity. 
 
 April i8//z. Called on Anthony Robinson. He was 
 vehemently abusive of the allies, and angrily strenuous 
 for peace. I had a difficulty in keeping my temper, but 
 when he was spent he listened to me. It seems in fact 
 that, after all, if the question were peace or war with 
 Buonaparte, we must conclude in favour of peace ; but 
 the question is, war by us now in France, or by him two 
 years hence in Germany and then surely the answer 
 must be for war with him now. At the same time the 
 prospect is tremendous, if we are to have war ; for how 
 are our resources to endure, which seem now nearly 
 exhausted ? 
 
 April 22nd. Mr. Quayle breakfasted with me in the 
 expectation of meeting Tiarks, who called for a moment, 
 but could not stay. Mr. Quayle proposed to me the 
 writing for a new Review, but I gave an indecisive
 
 Death of H, C. R.s Father. 
 
 479 
 
 answer. He informs me that Valpy has engaged 
 Tiarks for the Lexicon in consequence of my letter to 
 him. Accompanied Mr. Quayle to Greek Street, and 
 on my return found a letter from my sister announcing 
 that my father had been attacked by apoplexy, and was 
 lying in a state which rendered it unlikely that he would 
 survive many hours. This intelligence could not sur- 
 prise me, nor, in the state of my father's health, could 
 it grieve me. His faculties were rapidly wasting away, 
 his body enfeebled by disease and age, he was nearly 
 eighty-eight. He retained his appetite alone of all his 
 sources of pleasure. I rejoiced to hear that his state 
 was that of torpidity, almost of insensibility. 
 
 April 2^rd. I spent the forenoon at home. Mr. 
 Green brought me a letter announcing the expected 
 event ; my poor father died between twelve and one 
 o'clock yesterday morning. 
 
 He has lived among men a blameless life ; and, per- 
 haps, that he has never excited in his children the best 
 and most delightful emotions has been his misfortune 
 rather than his fault. Oh, how difficult, not to say 
 impossible, to assign the boundaries between natural 
 and moral evil, between the defects of character which 
 proceed from natural imbecility, which no man con- 
 siders a reproach, and those errors of the will, about 
 which metaphysicians may dispute for ever ! Only this 
 I know, that I sincerely wish I was other than I am ; 
 and that I acknowledge among those I see around me 
 individuals whom I believe to be of a nobler and better 
 nature than myself. The want of sensibility in myself 
 I consider as a radical defect in my nature ; but on what 
 
 CH. xvin. 
 1815. 
 
 H. C. R's. 
 father.
 
 480 
 
 Hazlitt on the Novelists. 
 
 CH. xvin. I does sensibility depend ? On constitution, or habits, or 
 1815. what ? I cannot tell. I know only that I was not my 
 own maker. I know also that I respect others more 
 than I do myself; though I have hitherto been pre- 
 served from doing any act grossly violating the rights 
 of others, and I am yet incapable of a deliberate act of 
 injustice or hard-heartedness. But how long may I be 
 able to say this ? How wise and admirable the prayer, 
 " Lead me not into temptation ! " I cannot understand 
 the mysteries of religion, but this I am sensible of, that 
 there is a consciousness of good and evil in myself, of 
 strength and weakness, of a goodness out of me which 
 is not in me, and of a something which / can neither 
 attain nor think unattainable. And on this conscious- 
 ness, common to all men, rests the doctrine of grace 
 and prayer, which I wish to comprehend and duly to 
 feel. I wish to be religious, as an excellence and grace 
 of character, at the least. 
 
 April 24/7*. Spent the greater part of the forenoon 
 at home. Read Hazlitt's article on the great novelists 
 in the Edinburgh Review. A very intelligent article. 
 His discrimination between Fielding and Le Sage is 
 particularly excellent. His characters of Cervantes, 
 Richardson, and Smollett, are also admirable ; but his 
 strictures on Sterne are less pointed ; and his obtrusive 
 abuse of the politics of the King, as occasioning the 
 decline of novel-writing during the present reign, is very 
 far-fetched indeed. He is also severe and almost con- 
 temptuous towards Miss Burney, whose " Wanderer " 
 was the pretence of the article. 
 
 May Jth. On returning from a walk to Shooter's 
 
 Hazlitt on 
 the great 
 novelists.
 
 Wordsworth, the Poet of Common Tilings. 
 
 481 
 
 Hill, I found a card from Wordsworth, and running 
 to Lamb's, I found Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth there. 
 After sitting half an hour with them, I accompanied 
 them to their lodgings, near Cavendish Square. Mrs. 
 Wordsworth appears to be a mild and amiable woman, 
 not so lively or animated as Miss Wordsworth, but, like 
 her, devoted to the poet. 
 
 May 8t/t. I dined with the Colliers, and after dinner 
 called on the Flaxmans. Mrs. Flaxman admitted me 
 to her room. She had about a fortnight before broken 
 her leg, and sprained it besides, by falling downstairs. 
 This misfortune, however, instead of occasioning a 
 repetition of the paralytic stroke, which she had a 
 year ago, seemed to have improved her health. She 
 had actually recovered the use of her hand in some 
 degree, and her friends expect that she will be benefited 
 by the accident. Poor Flaxman, however, had a relapse 
 of his erysipelas, and he is still so weak and nervous 
 that he sees no one. His situation is the worse of the 
 two. 
 
 May tyh. Took tea with the Lambs. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Wordsworth were there. We had a long chat, of which, 
 however, I can relate but little. Wordsworth, in answer 
 to the common reproach that his sensibility is excited 
 by objects which produce no effect on others, admits 
 the fact, and is proud of it. He says that he cannot 
 be accused of being insensible to the real concerns of 
 life. He does not waste his feelings on unworthy 
 objects, for he is alive to the actual interests of society. 
 I think the justification is complete. If Wordsworth 
 expected immediate popularity, he would betray an 
 
 VOL. T. I I 
 
 CH. xviir. 
 1815. 
 
 Mrs. 
 Words- 
 worth. 
 
 The 
 
 Flaxmans. 
 
 I Vords- 
 worth.
 
 482 
 
 Wordsworth. Variorum. 
 
 CH. XVIH. 
 1815. 
 
 Alterations 
 in his 
 poems. 
 
 Yew Trees. 
 
 Miss 
 O'Neil. 
 
 ignorance of public taste impossible in a man of obser- 
 vation. 
 
 He spoke of the changes in his new poems. He has 
 substituted ebullient for fiery, speaking of the nightin- 
 gale, and jocund for laughing, applied to the daffodils ; 
 but he will probably restore the original epithets. We 
 agreed in preferring the original reading. But on my 
 alluding to the lines, 
 
 " Three feet long and two feet wide," 
 
 and confessing that I dared not read them aloud in 
 company, he said, " They ought to be liked." 
 
 Wordsworth particularly recommended to me, among 
 his Poems of Imagination, " Yew Trees," and a descrip- 
 tion of Night. These he says are among the best for 
 the imaginative power displayed in them. I have since 
 read them. They are fine, but I believe I do not under- 
 stand in what their excellence consists. The poet him- 
 self, as Hazlitt has well observed, has a pride in deriving 
 no aid from his subject. It is the mere power which he 
 is conscious of exerting in which he delights, not the 
 production of a work in which men rejoice on account 
 of the sympathies and sensibilities it excites in them. 
 Hence he does not much esteem his " Laodamia," as it 
 belongs to the inferior class of poems founded on the 
 affections. In this, as in other peculiarities of Words- 
 worth, there is a German bent in his mind. 
 
 May 2Otk. Went to Covent Garden to see " Venice 
 Preserved." Miss O'Neil's Belvidera was our only at- 
 traction, and it proved our gratification. In spite of 
 her untragical face, she strongly affected us by mere 
 sweetness and grace. Her scenes of tenderness are
 
 Evening with Charles Lamb. 
 
 483 
 
 very pleasing, and, contrary to my expectation, she 
 produced a great effect in the last scenes of strong 
 passion. She threw her whole feeling into her acting, 
 and by this abandon, as it were, she wrought wonders 
 that is, for her considering that nature has denied her 
 powers for the higher characters. 
 
 May 2yd. Between five and six I was at Islington 
 during a long shower. I waited till I despaired of 
 better weather, and then returned to town. Just as I 
 reached the Temple, wetted to the skin, the rain sub- 
 sided, and the evening became very fine. However, I 
 could hardly repent of my impatience, for I went to 
 Lamb's, and took tea with Wordsworth there. Alsager,* 
 Barren Field, Talfourd, the Colliers, &c., stepped in 
 late. Wordsworth was very chatty on poetry. I had 
 some business to attend to, which rendered me restless, 
 so I left at eleven. Miss Hutchinson was of the party ; 
 she improves greatly on acquaintance. She is a lively, 
 sensible little woman. 
 
 May 2$th. After dining with the Colliers, I accom- 
 panied Miss Lamb to the theatre, where we were joined 
 by the. Wordsworths. We had front places at Drury 
 Lane and saw "Richard II." It is a heavy and un- 
 interesting play ; principally because the process by 
 which Richard is deposed is hardly perceived. Kean's 
 acting in the first three acts has in it nothing worth 
 
 * Alsager had, at one time, a manufactory and a bleaching-ground near the 
 King's Bench Prison ; but he gave this up, and, being a great lover of music, 
 recommended himself to the Times as an amateur reporter on musical matters. 
 He became City Correspondent, and wrote the "State of the Money Market " 
 for many years. He was also a shareholder in the paper till he had a serious 
 misunderstanding with Walter. 
 
 I I 2 
 
 C'H. xvm, 
 1815. 
 
 Evening at 
 Lamb's. 
 
 Kccin's 
 Richard 11.
 
 484 
 
 Kcaris Richard II. 
 
 CH. xvm. 
 1815. 
 
 Words- 
 worth. 
 
 White Doe 
 of Rylstone. 
 
 notice ; but in the fourth and fifth acts he certainly 
 exhibits the weak, passionate, and eloquent monarch to 
 reat advantage. In the scene in which he gives up 
 the crown, the conflict of passion is finely kept up ; 
 and the blending of opposite emotions is so curious as 
 to resemble incipient insanity. Several admirable arti- 
 fices of the actor gave great satisfaction one in parti- 
 cular, in which he derides Bolingbroke for affecting to 
 kneel, and intimates by a sign with his hand that 
 Bolingbroke aims at the level of his crown. 
 
 May 2$th. I dined at Collier's with a party assem- 
 bled to see Wordsworth. There were Young, Barnes, 
 Alsager, &c. The afternoon passed off pleasantly, but 
 the conversation was not highly interesting. Words- 
 worth was led to give an opinion of Lord Byron which 
 flattered me by its resemblance to my own. He re- 
 proached the author with the contradiction in the 
 character of the Corsair, &c. He also blamed Crabbe 
 for his unpoetical mode of considering human nature 
 and society. 
 
 I left the party to inquire concerning the Anthony 
 Robinsons, and on my return found the Wordsworths 
 gone ; but I went to Lamb's, where they came, and I 
 enjoyed their company till very late. I began to feel 
 quite cordial with Mrs. Wordsworth. She is an amiable 
 woman. 
 
 June 4th. Mr. Nash, Senr., and my brother Thomas 
 breakfasted with me. I conducted Mr. Nash to Mr. 
 Belsham's meeting, and came home to read "The White 
 Doe of Rylstone," by Wordsworth. This legendary 
 tale will be less popular than Walter Scott's, from the
 
 WordswortJis " White Doc of Rylstone" 
 
 485 
 
 want of that vulgar intelligibility, and that freshness 
 and vivacity of description, which please even those 
 who are not of the vulgar. Still, the poem will be 
 better liked than better pieces of Wordsworth's writing. 
 There are a delicate sensibility and exquisite moral 
 running through the whole ; but it is not the happiest 
 of his narrative poems. 
 
 June t)th. Dined at Mr. Porden's. Sir James Smith 
 of Norwich, the botanical professor, there, also Phillips* 
 the painter, and Taylor, the editor or proprietor of the 
 Sun.-\ I spent a pleasant afternoon. Sir James is a 
 very well-bred man, and though his conversation was 
 not piquant, amenity supplied an equal charm ; though 
 that word is not applicable to the correct propriety and 
 rather dry courtesy of the Unitarian professor. Phillips 
 was very agreeable, but the hero of the day was Taylor 
 " everybody's Taylor," as he is sometimes designated. 
 He has lively parts, puns, jokes, and is very good- 
 natured. The Flaxmans were not there. Mrs. Flax- 
 man is gone to Blackheath. Miss Porden, in a feeling 
 manner, spoke of her apprehension that the Flaxman 
 family is broken up as a happy and social circle. Mrs. 
 Flaxman's health is very precarious, and her husband is 
 
 * Thomas Phillips, R.A., painted all the leading characters of the day. 
 He was a peculiarly refined artist, but scarcely ever exceeded the sphere of 
 portrait painting. Coleridge, Southey, Byron, Crabbe, Chantrey, Blake, Sir 
 Joseph Banks, Lord Brougham, Faraday, and Walter Scott sat to him. His 
 lectures on Painting and contributions to Rees's Cyclopedia show extensive 
 learning and originality of thought. He was born at Dudley, in Warwick- 
 shire, 1770, and died in George Street, Hanover Square, 1845. 
 
 f John Taylor, son of a celebrated oculist in Hatton Garden, bom 1752. 
 Was oculist to George III. and William IV. He published "The Records of ' 
 my Life," various Poems, and " Monsieur Tonson." Died 1832. 
 
 CH. xviii. 
 1815. 
 
 Dinner at 
 Porden's.
 
 486 
 
 William Taylor of Norwich. 
 
 CH. xviii. 
 1815. 
 
 Dinner at 
 A my of s. 
 
 dependent on her, and suffers himself through her com- 
 plaint. This, I fear, is a fact ; and it is a melancholy 
 subject. These breakings-up of society are mournful at 
 all times, and peculiarly so when they befall the very 
 best of persons. 
 
 June 6th. I dined with Amyot. A small party 
 were there, consisting of Sharon Turner, the historian 
 and antiquarian ; Charles Marsh,* ex-barrister and M.P. ; 
 William Taylor of Norwich ; and Penn, a clerk in one 
 of the public offices, a descendant of William Penn. 
 Charles Marsh stayed with us but a short time ; he was 
 sent for to the House of Commons. His manners are 
 easy and gentlemanly ; he said little, but he spoke with 
 great vivacity. Sharon Turner is a good converser, but 
 with a little pedantry. He spoke of Martin Burney 
 handsomely, but oddly. He said, " I always thought he 
 would flower, though it might be late. He is a man of 
 great honour and integrity. He never told me a lie in 
 his life ] " 
 
 William Taylor was amusing, as usual. He gravely 
 assured me that he believes the allies will succeed in 
 penetrating into France ; that the French will then offer 
 the crown to the Emperor Alexander, who will accept 
 it ; and then the allies will fight against Alexander, to 
 prevent the union of the two crowns. William Taylor 
 enjoys nothing so much as an extravagant speculation 
 the odder the better. He spoke of Wordsworth 
 praised his conversation, which he likes better than his 
 poetry says he is solid, dignified, eloquent, and simple. 
 " But he looked surprised," said Taylor, " when I told 
 
 * See ante, p. 42.
 
 Hazlitfs Attack on Wordsworth. 
 
 487 
 
 him that I considered Southey the greatest poet and 
 the greatest historian living." "No great matter of 
 surprise," I answered, " that Wordsworth should think 
 himself a greater poet than Southey." 
 
 June i$th. I allowed myself a holiday to-day. 
 Mord Andrews breakfasted with me. Afterwards I 
 called on Wordsworth at his lodgings. He was luckily 
 at home, and I spent the forenoon with him, walking. 
 We talked about Hazlitt, in consequence of a malignant 
 attack on Wordsworth by him in Sunday's Examiner* 
 Wordsworth that very day called on Hunt, who in a 
 manly way asked him whether he had seen the paper of 
 the morning ; saying, if he had, he should consider his 
 call as a higher honour. He disclaimed the article. 
 The attack by Hazlitt was a note, in which, after 
 honouring Milton for being a consistent patriot, he 
 sneered at Wordsworth as the author of "paltry 
 sonnets upon the Royal fortitude," &c., and insinuated 
 that he had left out the " Female Vagrant," a poem 
 describing the miseries of war sustained by the poor. 
 
 June lyth. I went late to Lamb's. His party were 
 there, and a numerous and odd set they were for the 
 greater part interesting and amusing people George 
 Dyer, Captain and Martin Burney, Ayrton, Phillips, 
 
 * The attack referred to is contained in the following remarks on Milton, in 
 the Examiner, for nth June, 1815 : "Whether he was a true patriot we shall 
 not inquire ; he was at least a consistent one. He did not retract his defence 
 of the people of England ; he did not say that his sonnets to Vane or Cromwell 
 were meant ironically ; he was not appointed Poet Laureate to a Court he had 
 reviled and insulted ; he accepted neither place nor pension ; nor did he write 
 paltry sonnets upon the ' Royal fortitude ' of the House of Stuart, by which, 
 however, they really lost something." To these words a footnote is appended 
 referring to a sonnet to the King, ' ' in the Last Edition of the Works of a 
 modern Poet." 
 
 CH. xvin. 
 1815. 
 
 Words- 
 worth. 
 
 Party at 
 Lamb's.
 
 488 
 
 Basil Montagu ^walking the Circuit. 
 
 CH. xvin. 
 1815. 
 
 The Words- 
 worths. 
 
 John Scott. 
 
 Hazlitt and wife, Alsager, Barren Field, Coulson, John 
 Collier, Talfourd, White, Lloyd, and Basil Montagu. 
 The latter I had never before been in company with ; 
 his feeling face and gentle tones are very interesting. 
 Wordsworth says of him that he is a " philanthropized 
 courtier." He gave me an account of his first going the 
 Norfolk Circuit. He walked the circuit generally, and 
 kept aloof from the Bar ; in this way he contrived to 
 pay his expenses. He began at Huntingdon, where he 
 had a half-guinea motion ; and as he was then staying 
 at his brother's house, he walked to Bury with that 
 money in his pocket, picked up a fee there, and so 
 went on. Mackintosh was the immediate senior of 
 Montagu, and assisted in bringing him forward. 
 Mackintosh had business immediately as a leader, and 
 after a short time the two travelled together. But 
 during some time Montagu lived on bread and cheese. 
 He is a strenuous advocate for all reforms in the law, 
 and believes that in time they will all take place. 
 
 Jime i8t/t. Breakfasted at Wordsworth's. Words- 
 worth was not at home, but I stayed chatting with 
 the ladies till he returned ; and several persons 
 dropping in, I was kept there till two o'clock, and was 
 much amused. 
 
 Scott, editor of the Champion* and Haydon the 
 painter f stayed a considerable time. Scott is a little 
 
 * John Scott, editor of the Champion, and afterwards of the London 
 Magazine, an intimate friend of Haydon the artist. He was killed in a duel 
 with Mr. Christie, in 1821, which arose from a misunderstanding with Mr. 
 Lockhart. See the "Annual Register" for 1823. 
 
 f This powerful, but seldom judicious, artist, obtained considerable dis- 
 tinction as a young man, by his independence of spirit and by determined
 
 Godwin on French Politics. 
 
 489 
 
 swarthy man. He talked fluently on French politics, and 
 informed me that he has learnt from good authority that 
 La Fayette was applied to by the King on Buonaparte's 
 reappearance in France ; that La Fayette said he wished 
 the King success, and would serve under him on condi- 
 tions which he gave in writing ; that the King refused to 
 accede to them, and La Fayette retired to his estate. 
 On Buonaparte's arrival he, too, sent for La Fayette, 
 who refused to serve under him or accept a place among 
 the peers, but said that, if elected, he would become a 
 member of the legislative body. 
 
 Haydon has an animated countenance, but did not 
 say much. Both he and Scott seemed to entertain a 
 high reverence for the poet. 
 
 June 22nd. I spent the evening by appointment 
 with Godwin. The Taylors were there. We talked 
 politics, and not very comfortably. Godwin and I all 
 but quarrelled ; both were a little angry, and equally 
 offensive to each other. Godwin was quite impassioned 
 in asserting his hope that Buonaparte may be successful 
 in the war. He declares his wish that all the allies that 
 enter France now may perish, and affirmed that no man 
 who did not abandon all moral principles and love of 
 liberty could wish otherwise. I admitted that, in 
 
 opposition to the weak and blind imitation of academic traditions in painting. 
 He viewed the Elgin Marbles with rapture, and contributed much to secure a 
 proper estimation of the works of Phidias, and the great Athenian sculptors in 
 this country. His own performances were not equally successful. His "Raising 
 of Lazarus," the best example of his merits and defects, has been recently 
 purchased for the National Gallery. He was born at Plymouth, 1786, and 
 died by his own hand in Burwood Place, London, 1846. His lectures are 
 learned and practical. His eloquence is vehement. His autobiography, edited 
 by Tom Taylor, was published in three volumes, 1853. 
 
 CH. xvni. 
 1815. 
 
 Haydon. 
 
 Godwin s 
 
 opinion on 
 
 the war.
 
 490 
 
 Intervention of the Allies in France: 
 
 CH. xvin. 
 1815. 
 
 general, foreigners have no right to interfere in the 
 government of a country, but, in this case, I consider 
 the foreign armies as coming to the relief of the people 
 against the oppressions of domestic soldiers ; and in 
 this lies the justice of the war. Richard Taylor* main- 
 tained that nothing could justify the invasion of a 
 country. I treated it as mere formalism and pedantry 
 to ask where is the battle fought. In the spirit of the 
 idea the invaders may be, as is now the fact, carrying 
 on a purely defensive war. And the moral certainty 
 that Buonaparte would have made war as soon as it 
 became convenient, justifies the allies in beginning. 
 Godwin considered the acting on such a surmise un- 
 justifiable. I asserted that all the actions of life pro- 
 ceed on surmises. We, however, agreed in apprehending 
 that Buonaparte may destroy the rising liberties of the 
 French, and that the allies may attempt to force the old 
 Bourbon despotism on the French. But Godwin thinks 
 the latter, and I the former, to be the greater calamity. 
 I also consider the future despotism of Buonaparte a 
 certain consequence of his success in the campaign ; 
 and, besides, I believe that even if the French be so far 
 beaten as to be obliged to take back Louis on terms, 
 yet they will still remain so formidable that the allies 
 will not dare to impose humiliating conditions ; so that 
 the French may at last be led to offer the Crown again 
 on terms of their own imposing. Richard Taylor would 
 be satisfied with this, but Godwin would on no account 
 have the allies successful. 
 
 I am no longer very anxious for the liberties of the 
 
 * The printer.
 
 Was it Justifiable ? 
 
 491 
 
 French. It is infinitely more important for Europe 
 that their national spirit of foreign conquest should be 
 crushed, than that their civil liberties should be pre- 
 served. Like the Romans, they may be the conquerors 
 of all other nations, even while they are maintaining 
 their own liberties. And I no longer imagine, as I once 
 did, that it is only monarchs and governments which 
 can be unjust and love war. 
 
 June 2yd. I went to the Surrey Institution to read 
 the detailed account of the glorious victory at Waterloo. 
 This is indeed most glorious ; but still I fear it will not 
 so affect the French people as to occasion a material 
 defalcation from Buonaparte. And if he be, after all, 
 supported by the French, numerous and bloody must 
 be the victories which are to overthrow him. 
 
 After nine o'clock I walked to Ayrton's. The illumi- 
 nations were but dull, and there were scarcely any 
 marks of public zeal or sympathy. I stayed at Ayrton's 
 till half-past one. Lamb, Alsager, &c., were there, but 
 it was merely a card-party. 
 
 June ysth. Called on Thelwall. He was in un- 
 affected low spirits. Godwin, Lofft, and Thelwall are 
 the only three persons I know (except Hazlitt) who 
 grieve at the late events. Their intentions and motives 
 are respectable, and their sorrow proceeds from mistaken 
 theory, and an inveterate hatre'd of old names. They 
 anticipate a revival of ancient despotism in France ; 
 and they will not acknowledge the radical vices of the 
 French people, by which the peace of Europe is more 
 endangered than the liberties of the French are by 
 the restoration of the Bourbons. 
 
 CH. xvni. 
 1815. 
 
 Battle of 
 Waterloo. 
 
 Thelwall.
 
 492 
 
 Long. Stammerers. 
 
 CH. xvin, 
 1815. 
 
 Long. 
 
 Thelwall. 
 
 Sicard and 
 
 his deaf 
 
 and dumb 
 
 pupils . 
 
 July 2nd. I spent the forenoon at home, except that 
 Long* and I lounged with Wordsworth's poems in the 
 Temple Gardens. Long had taken the sacrament at 
 Belsham's, for which I felt additional respect towards 
 him. Though I am not religious myself, I have great 
 respect for a conduct which proceeds from a sense of 
 duty, and is under the influence of religious feelings. 
 I greatly esteem Long in all respects, both for his 
 understanding and his moral feelings, which together 
 comprise nearly all that is valuable in man. 
 
 Jtdy 4?/i. At half-past four I went to Thelwall's, to 
 witness a singular display. Thelwall exhibited several 
 of his young people, and also himself, in the presence 
 of the Abb6 Sicard, and several of his deaf and dumb 
 pupils. Thelwall delivered a lecture to about sixty or 
 seventy persons. He gave an account of his plan of 
 curing impediments in the speech. He makes his pupils 
 read verse beating time. And I have no doubt that 
 the effect is produced by the facility of repeating a 
 movement once begun, and partly by the effect of 
 imagination. The attention is fixed and directed by 
 the movement and time-beating. This simple fact, or 
 phenomenon, Thelwall has not distinctly perceived or 
 comprehended. His boys read, or rather recited, verse 
 very pleasantly, and without stammering, so as to pro- 
 duce an effect far more favourable to his system than 
 his own explanation of it. After this two hours' display 
 we dined, and in the evening Sicard's pupils afforded 
 amusement in the drawing-room by the correspondence 
 they carried on with the ladies. One of them wrote 
 
 * George Long, the barrister, and afterwards police magistrate.
 
 Whitbrcad's Death. Miss O'Neil. 
 
 493 
 
 notes to Mrs. Rough, and gave a gallant turn to all he 
 wrote, for even the deaf and dumb retain their national 
 character. I wrote some ridiculous question in Mrs. 
 Rough's name. She wrote to him that I was an 
 advocate, and therefore not to be believed. He an- 
 swered, " I am glad to hear it, as he can defend me 
 if I have the misfortune to offend you." 
 
 July jtJi. I called on Amyot early, and found on 
 going out that Paris had been again taken by the 
 allies. But the public did not rejoice, for Paris had 
 capitulated on honourable terms, and Buonaparte had 
 escaped. During the day Mr. Whitbread's death was 
 more a subject of interest than the possession of Paris. 
 The death of so watchful a member of Parliament is 
 really a national loss. He belonged to the noblest 
 class of mankind. 
 
 In the evening joined Amyot and his family, in the 
 front dress-boxes of Covent Garden. Miss O'Neil's 
 Jane Shore, I think, delighted me more than any 
 character I have seen her play. Her expression of 
 disgust and horror when she meets with her husband, 
 as well as her general acting in that scene, are as fine as 
 can be conceived, coming from so uninteresting a face. 
 What a treasure were Mrs. Siddons now as young as 
 Miss O'Neil ! 
 
 July 2gth. (At Norwich, on circuit.) This day was 
 devoted to amusement, and accordingly passed away 
 heavily. I called after breakfast on Millard, and then 
 went to Amyot, with whom I spent the remainder of 
 the day. He introduced me to Dr. Bathurst, Bishop of 
 Norwich. The bishop's manners are very pleasing. 
 
 CH. xvin. 
 1815. 
 
 Paris 
 taken. 
 
 Whit- 
 bread's 
 death. 
 
 Miss 
 O'Neil. 
 
 At 
 A'orwich. 
 
 Bishop 
 
 Bathurst.
 
 494 
 
 Dr. Bathurst, Bishop of Norwich. 
 
 CH. xvin. 
 1815. 
 
 Continental 
 tour. 
 
 His attentions to me would have been flattering, could 
 I have thought them distinguishing, but probably they 
 proceed from a habit of courtesy. I had scarcely 
 exchanged ten words with him when, speaking of 
 ancient times in reference to the former splendour of 
 the buildings attached to the Palace, he said, " Ah ! Mr. 
 Robinson, bishops had then more power than you or I 
 wish them to have," as if he knew I was born a Non- 
 conformist. I afterwards met him in the gardens, 
 where a balloon was to ascend ; he was arm-in-arm 
 with a Roman Catholic, and on my going up to him 
 he took hold of me also, and remained with us a con- 
 siderable time walking about. On my uttering some 
 jest about bishops inpartibus, he eulogized the Roman 
 Catholic bishops in Ireland as eminently apostolic. 
 The bishop's manners are gentle, and his air is very 
 benignant. He is more gentlemanly than Gregoire, 
 and more sincere than Hohenfels. 
 
 TOUR IN BELGIUM AND HOLLAND. 
 Rem* The Battle of Waterloo having taken place 
 in June, I was determined to make a tour in Belgium, 
 to which I was also urged by my friend Thomas 
 Naylor,-j- who was my travelling companion from 
 Sunday, August 6th, to Saturday, September 2nd. 
 
 * Written in 1850. 
 
 f Father of Samuel Naylor, the translator of "Reineke Fuchs," and son of 
 Samuel Naylor, of Great Newport Street, agent to Mr. Francis, in whose 
 office Mr. Robinson was an articled clerk. H. C. R. says, " S. Naylor, Senr., 
 took me to the first play I ever saw in London ; it was ' Peeping Tom of 
 Coventry.' I have forgotten all about it, excepting that I was troubled by 
 the number of people on the stage, and that I saw and admired Jack 
 Bannister."
 
 Tour to Waterloo. 
 
 495 
 
 I kept a journal of this tour, and have just finished a 
 hasty perusal of it. It contains merely an account of 
 what occurred to myself, and the incidents were so 
 unimpressive that the narrative has brought to my 
 recollection very few persons and very few places. I 
 shall, therefore, not be tempted to dwell upon the 
 events. 
 
 Naylor and I went to Margate on the 6th, and next 
 day, after visiting Ramsgate, embarked in a small and 
 unpromising vessel, which brought us to Ostend early 
 on the following morning. There were on board four 
 young men, who, like ourselves, were bound for 
 Waterloo. We agreed to travel together, and I, being 
 the only one who understood any language but English, 
 was elected governor ; most of us remained together 
 till the end of the journey. I have lost sight of them 
 all, but I will give their names. There was a young 
 Scotch M.D., named Stewart, whom I afterwards met 
 in London, when he told me the history of his good 
 fortune. It was when travelling in France, after our 
 rencontre, that he by accident came to a country inn, 
 where he found a family in great alarm. An English 
 lady was taken in premature labour. The case was 
 perilous. No medical man was there. He offered his 
 services, and continued to attend her until her husband, 
 a General, and personal friend of the Commander-in- 
 Chief, Lord Wellington, arrived. The General acknow- 
 ledged him to be the saviour of his wife's life, and in 
 return obtained for him a profitable place on the 
 medical staff of the English army. 
 
 The other young men were Barnes, a surgeon, and 
 
 CH. xviii. 
 1815. 
 
 Travelling 
 companion. 
 
 Stewart.
 
 496 
 
 Netherland Voyage. 
 
 CH. xvni. 
 1815. 
 
 Places 
 visited. 
 
 Canal 
 voyage. 
 
 Field of 
 Waterloo. 
 
 two merchants or merchants' clerks, Watkins and 
 Williams. 
 
 Our journey lay through Bruges, Ghent, Brussels, 
 Antwerp, Breda, Utrecht, Amsterdam, Haarlem, Ley- 
 den, the Hague, Delft, Rotterdam, and the Briel, to 
 Helvoetsluys, and from thence to Harwich. 
 
 No small part of the tour was in barges. One in 
 particular I enjoyed. It was the voyage from Bruges 
 to Ghent, during which I certainly had more pleasure 
 than I had ever before had on board a vessel, and with 
 no alloy whatever. This canal voyage is considered 
 one of the best in the Netherlands, and our boat, 
 though not superbly furnished, possessed every con- 
 venience. We took our passage in the state-cabin, over 
 which was an elegant awning. I found I could write 
 on board with perfect ease ; but from time to time I 
 looked out of the cabin-window on a prospect pleas- 
 ingly diversified by neat and comfortable houses on the 
 banks. The barge proceeded so slowly that we could 
 hardly perceive when it stopped. A man was walking 
 on the side of the canal for a great part of the way, 
 and I therefore suppose our pace was not much more 
 than four miles an hour. 
 
 We embarked at half-past ten, and at two o'clock an 
 excellent dinner was served up, consisting of fish, flesh, 
 and fowl, with rich pastry, and plenty of fruit. For 
 this dinner, and the voyage of between thirty and forty 
 miles, we paid each 5fr. 
 
 The main object of the tour was to visit the field of 
 the recent great Battle of Waterloo. It was on the 
 1 4th of August when we inspected the several points
 
 Field of Waterloo. 
 
 497 
 
 famous in the history of this battle. Not all the 
 vestiges of the conflict were removed. There were 
 arms of trees hanging down, shattered by cannon-balls, 
 and not yet cut off. And there were ruined and burnt 
 cottages in many places, and marks of bullets and balls 
 on both houses and trees ; but I saw nothing in par- 
 ticular to impress me, except that in an inn near the 
 field I had a glimpse of a lady in weeds, who was come 
 on a vain search after the body of her husband, slain 
 there. A more uninteresting country, or one more fit 
 for " a glorious victory," being flat and almost 
 without trees, than that round Waterloo, cannot 
 be imagined. I saw it some years afterwards, when 
 ugly monuments were erected there, and I can bear 
 witness to the fact of the great resemblance which 
 the aspect of the neighbourhood of Waterloo bears 
 to a village a mile from Cambridge, on the Bury 
 road. 
 
 On the field and at other places the peasants brought 
 us relics of the fight. Dr. Stewart purchased a brass 
 cuirass for a napoleon, and pistols &c. were sold to 
 others. For my own part, with no great portion of 
 sentimental feeling, I could have wished myself to pick 
 up some memorial ; but a mere purchase was not 
 sufficient to satisfy me. 
 
 We dined at Waterloo. Our host was honest, for on 
 my ordering a dinner at 2fr. a head, he said he never 
 made two prices, and should charge only i^fr. In the 
 village, which is naked and wretched, a festival was 
 being held in honour of the patron saint ; but we were 
 told that, in consequence of the battle, and out of 
 
 VOL. I. K K 
 
 CH. xviit. 
 
 1815. 
 
 Relics.
 
 498 
 
 Holland. Stillness and 
 
 CH. XVIH. 
 1815. 
 
 Broek. 
 
 respect to brave men who lay there, there was to be no 
 dancing this year. 
 
 In the circular brick church of Waterloo we saw two 
 plain marble monuments, bearing simply the names of 
 the officers of the 1st Foot Guards and I5th King's 
 Hussars wjio had fallen there. Even the reward of 
 being so named is given but to one in a thousand. 
 Sixty thousand men are said to have been killed or 
 wounded at Waterloo. Will sixty be named hereafter ? 
 
 Jn general I admired the towns of Belgium, but 
 Ghent was my favourite. The fine architecture of the 
 Catholic churches of the Netherlands gratified me, 
 while I was disgusted with the nakedness and meanness 
 of the Protestant churches of Holland. 
 
 Among the few objects which have left any traces in 
 my memory, the one which impressed me most was the 
 secluded village of Broek, near Amsterdam. My journal 
 for the 2 ist of August contains the account of our 
 visit to this village and that of Saardam. The people 
 of Broek live in a state of proud seclusion from the 
 rest of mankind, and, being industrious, are able to 
 banish the appearance of poverty, at least from their 
 cottages. We walked for about an hour through the 
 narrow streets, which are moated on a small scale. 
 There were a great number of inferior houses, but not 
 a single poor one all were adorned more or less. Most 
 of them are painted white and green some entirely 
 green. In general the blinds were closed, so that we 
 could scarcely get a peep into any of them. When we 
 did look in we observed great neatness and simplicity, 
 with marks of affluence at the same time. The shops
 
 Seclusion of Inhabitants. 
 
 499 
 
 had a few goods in the windows as a sort of symbol, 
 but were as secluded as the private houses. 
 
 Scarcely an individual did we see in the streets. We 
 met one woman with a flat piece of gold or gilt metal 
 on the forehead, and a similar piece behind : she wore 
 also long gold earrings. This, however, is not an un- 
 usual costume for the affluent peasantry elsewhere. 
 We pulled off our hats to the Broek belle, but had 
 no salutation in return. The general seclusion of the 
 village, from which nothing could be seen but meadows 
 with ditches, the silence of the streets, the perfect still- 
 ness and neatness of the objects, every dwelling resem- 
 bling a summer-house rather than an ordinary residence, 
 the cheerful and unusual colours, and the absence of all 
 the objects which denote a hard-working race of men, 
 gave to the whole place an air absolutely Arcadian. 
 The only objects which disturbed this impression were 
 several houses of a better description, with large 
 windows, gilded shutters, carved frontispieces, and the 
 other ornaments of a fashionable house. One in par- 
 ticular had a porch with Corinthian pillars, and a large 
 garden with high, clipped trees. One surgeon's. house 
 had an announcement that wine and strong liquors were 
 to be had as if these were still, in this Dutch Arcadia, 
 articles of medicine only. It is said that there is no 
 public-house in Broek. We saw one, but did not go in. 
 It did not look like the rest of the houses. 
 
 We were next driven to Saardam, where we visited 
 the hut which alone brings many an idle traveller to the 
 place, and in which Peter of Russia resided while he 
 learnt the trade of ship-building, performing the work of 
 
 K K 2 
 
 CH. xvtii. 
 
 1815. 
 
 Saarlem.
 
 5oo 
 
 The North Hollanders. 
 
 CH. xvur. 
 1815. 
 
 Peter the 
 
 Great. 
 
 The value 
 
 of seclusion 
 
 discussed. 
 
 a common ship-wright. It is certainly right to per- 
 petuate the memory of an act in which an admirable 
 sentiment prevailed, whatever want of good sense and 
 judgment there might be in it. The hut has nothing 
 particular about it, except that it is worse than the 
 other huts, it being of course a principle to keep it in 
 its original condition. While in this singular village we 
 saw a school in which the children were singing to 
 the tune of "God save the King." This is become 
 the general tune throughout Europe for the partisans 
 of legal and restored monarchs, though originally 
 written in honour of an elected sovereign house. 
 
 This belongs to the agreeable days of my tour. I 
 had seen life in a new shape one of the varieties of 
 human existence with which it is, or rather may be, use- 
 ful to become acquainted. Yet I ought to add that I 
 saw little of these North Hollanders, and cannot tell 
 what their manners and morals may be. There is 
 certainly no virtue in selfish seclusion from the world. 
 The neighbourhood of such a city as Amsterdam must 
 supply opportunities for the vices which will spring up 
 in any soil. Yet, certainly, in the insulated and clannish 
 spirit which prevails in these villages there is generated 
 a benevolence, or extension of selfishness beyond the 
 individual, which may protect the members of the clan 
 and inhabitants of the island from the severest evils of 
 life. So that, though perhaps these peasants are not 
 especial objects of love or admiration, yet they may be 
 envied by those who have witnessed, if not experienced, 
 the heavier calamities so frequently arising in the more 
 polished and more highly civilized circles of life elsewhere.
 
 H. C. R.'s Religions Opinions. 
 
 At Haarlem I heard the celebrated organ in the 
 great church. I am half afraid to say in writing how 
 much I was gratified. I have been in the habit of say- 
 ing and believing that I have no ear for music, and 
 certainly I have suffered ennui at listening to some 
 which others thought very fine, but to this I listened 
 with delight, and was quite sorry when it ceased. 
 
 I was amused with the gorgeous show in the Greek 
 church at Amsterdam. I was pleased with the Hague, 
 and with the Royal Palace called the House in the 
 Wood. I was struck also with the Bies Bosch, the 
 melancholy memorial of a frightful inundation near 
 Dort, which took place in the fifteenth century. 
 
 On the church tower of Utrecht I fell in with the 
 Masqueriers, with whom was Walton, an attorney. With 
 him I afterwards became acquainted. I returned to 
 England on the 2nd of September. 
 
 September 22nd. At the end of a visit to my friends 
 Mr. and Mrs. W. Pattisson, at Witham, I went to take 
 leave of Mrs. Pattisson, Senr. She began interrogating 
 me about my religious opinions. This she did in a way 
 so kind and benevolent that I could not be displeased, 
 or consider her impertinent. I was unable to answer 
 her as I could wish. However, I did not scruple to 
 
 declare to her that such orthodoxy as Mr. N 's would 
 
 deter me from Christianity. I cannot wish to have a 
 belief which excludes from salvation such persons as my 
 own dear mother, my uncle Crabb, and a large portion of 
 the best people I have ever known. 
 
 October 4///. (On a visit to my brother Habakkuk at 
 
 CH. xvni. 
 1815. 
 
 Organ at 
 Haarlem. 
 
 Amster- 
 dam, &C. 
 
 Religious 
 belief. 
 
 AtBagshoi.
 
 502 
 
 Flaxman on Dutch Sculpture. 
 
 CH. xvin. 
 1815. 
 
 Hypochon- 
 dria. 
 
 Curious 
 hallucina- 
 tion. 
 
 Bagshot.) After dining tete-a-tete with my niece 
 Elizabeth, and playing backgammon with her, we 
 called on Mrs. Kitchener and took tea with her. Mrs. 
 Cooper (the widow of the former clergyman at 
 Bagshot), who was there, related to me some singular 
 circumstances about the state of her husband's mind in 
 his last illness. He was then more than eighty years 
 of age. He imagined himself to be dead, and gave 
 directions as for the burial of a dead man ; and he 
 remained in this persuasion for several weeks. At 
 one time he desired a note to be sent to the Duke 
 of Gloucester announcing his death. At another time 
 he desired that the mourners might be well provided 
 for, and inquired about the preparations made. In 
 particular, on one occasion when a clean shirt was 
 being put on, he reminded the servants that, being a 
 corpse, they must put on nothing but woollen, or they 
 would incur a penalty. When told that, if dead, he 
 could not talk about it, he for a moment perceived the 
 absurdity of his notion, but soon relapsed. 
 
 October 26th. At work in my chambers in the fore- 
 noon. After dining at Collier's I went to Flaxman's. 
 I had not seen him for many months, and was glad to 
 find all the family well, Mrs. Flaxman in particular 
 recovered. We chatted about my journey to Holland. 
 Flaxman speaks with contempt of Dutch statuary. 
 He rejoices in the restoration of the works of art to 
 latly.* 
 
 * When, in 1815, the allied sovereigns arrived in Paris, they insisted upon 
 the restoration of the objects of art which had been pillaged from various 
 places by the orders of Napoleon. "A memorial from all the artists of Europe 
 at Rome, claimed for the Eternal City the entire restoration of the immortal
 
 Hannah More's Tragedy. 
 
 503 
 
 November $th. (At Royston on a visit to Mr. Wedd.) 
 We dined late. W. Nash and T. Nash of Whittlesford 
 with us. The afternoon spent agreeably. In the 
 evening Mr. Nash came to us. He was in good 
 spirits. The cheerful benignity of the old gentleman 
 renders him delightful, but age is advancing rapidly 
 on him, and his faculties are growing blind with years. 
 He is, however, with all his infirmities, the model 
 of a venerable old man. It is a felicity to live within 
 the influence of such a character, who creates a society 
 by his personal virtues. 
 
 November nth. Went to see the play of "Percy," 
 by Hannah More. It is much like "Gabrielle de 
 Vergy." The situation is highly interesting. A chaste 
 and noble-minded woman having been forced to marry 
 a man she hates, the rival, whom she loves, suddenly 
 returns, ignorant of her marriage. The husband 
 furiously jealous and cruel, &c. &c. Of course they 
 all die, as in " Gabrielle." Miss O'Neil gave great 
 interest to the play during the first three acts. Her 
 tenderness is exquisite, and her expression of disgust 
 and horror, while she averts her countenance and hides 
 it with her hands, is peculiarly masterly. This single 
 expression she has elaborately studied. Young played 
 the jealous husband with spirit, but Charles Kemble 
 was a mere ranting lover as Percy. He ought not 
 to have given the name to the play. 
 
 November 12th. Continued reading Wraxall. A re- 
 works of art which had once adorned it. The allied sovereigns acceded to the 
 just demand ; and Canova, impassioned for the arts, and the city of his choice, 
 hastened to Paris to superintend the removal. It was most effectually done." 
 ALISON'S Europe, Vol. XII., 286, gth edition. 
 
 CH. xvin. 
 
 1815. 
 
 Royston. 
 
 Mr. Nash. 
 
 Miss 
 O'Neil. 
 
 Repartee of 
 Burke s.
 
 504 
 
 Witticism of C. Lamb's. 
 
 CH. xvm. 
 1815. 
 
 C. Lamb. 
 
 Tamerlane. 
 
 partee of Burke's pleased me. David Hartley, Member 
 for Hull, was the dullest of speakers in the House of 
 Commons. Having spoken so long as to drive away the 
 greater number of the members (more than 300 having 
 dwindled down to 80), he moved that the Riot Act 
 should be read at the table, on which Burke, who sat 
 next him, exclaimed, " My dear friend ! why, in God's 
 name, read the Riot Act ? Do not you see that the 
 mob are dispersed already ?"* 
 
 November I/J.//2. Dined at the Hall. After nine I 
 called on Charles Lamb. He was much better in 
 health and spirits than when I saw him last. Though 
 tete-a-tete, he was able to pun. I was speaking of my 
 first brief, when he asked, " Did you not exclaim, 
 
 Thou gieat first cause, least understood" ? 
 
 November 22nd. Accompanied Miss Nash to the 
 theatre, and saw " Tamerlane," a very dull play. It is 
 more stuffed with trite declamation, and that of an 
 inferior kind, than any piece I recollect. It is a com- 
 pendium of political commonplaces. And the piece is 
 not the more valuable because the doctrines are very 
 wholesome and satisfactory. Tamerlane is a sort of 
 regal Sir Charles Grandison a perfect king, very wise 
 and insipid. He was not unfitly represented by Pope, 
 if the character be intended merely as a foil to that of 
 the ferocious Bajazet. Kean performed that character 
 throughout under the idea of his being a two-legged 
 beast. He rushed on the stage at his first appearance 
 as a wild beast may be supposed to enter a new den to 
 
 * "Historical Memoirs of my Own Time," by Sir N. W. Wraxall. Vol. II. 
 P- 377-
 
 John Landseer' s Lecture. 
 
 505 
 
 which his keepers have transferred him. His tartan 
 whiskers improved the natural excellence of his face ; 
 his projecting under-lip and admirably expressive eye 
 gave to his countenance all desirable vigour ; and his 
 exhibition of rage and hatred was very excellent But 
 there was no relief as there would have been had the 
 bursts of feeling been only occasional. In the happy 
 representation of one passion Kean afforded me great 
 pleasure ; but this was all I enjoyed. 
 
 November 242$. I called on Lamb, and chatted an 
 hour with him. Talfourd stepped in, and we had a 
 pleasant conversation. Lamb has a very exclusive 
 taste, and spoke with equal contempt of Voltaire's 
 Tales and " Gil Bias." He may be right in thinking 
 the latter belongs to a low class of compositions, but; 
 he ought not to deny that it has excellence of its kind. 
 
 November 2jth. I dined at Collier's, and somewhat 
 late went to Mrs. Joddrel's. There was an illumination 
 to-night for the Peace, but it did not occur to me to 
 look at a single public building, and I believe no one 
 cared about it. A duller rejoicing could not be con- 
 ceived. There was hardly a crowd in the streets. 
 
 December $th. Went to the Surrey Institution in 
 the evening, and heard a lecture on the Philosophy of 
 Art, by Landseer.* He is animated in his style, but 
 his animation is produced by indulgence in sarcasms, 
 
 * John Landseer, an engraver of considerable talent, and father of the present 
 Sir Edwin Landseer. He was born at Lincoln, 1769. In his later years the pen 
 superseded the burin. He delivered a course of lectures on engraving at the 
 Royal Institution in 1806; his best known literary works are " Sabaean 
 Researches" and a "Descriptive Catalogue of Pictures in the National Gal- 
 lery." His best engraving is from his son's well-known picture "The Dogs of 
 St. Bernard." He died in February, 1852. 
 
 CH. xvni. 
 1815. 
 
 C. Lamb. 
 
 Illumina- 
 tions for 
 Peace. 
 
 Landseer.
 
 506 
 
 C. Lamb. Hazlitt. Coulson. 
 
 .CH. xvm. 
 1815. 
 
 A bed on a 
 
 parish 
 boundary. 
 
 Party at 
 Alsagers. 
 
 Kean in the 
 
 Beggars 
 
 Bush. 
 
 and in emphatic diction. He pronounces his words in 
 italics ; and by colouring strongly he produces an effect 
 easily. 
 
 December 'jth. I spent several hours at the Clerken- 
 well Sessions. A case came before the court ludicrous 
 from the minuteness required in the examination. Was 
 the pauper settled in parish A or B ? The house 
 he occupied was in both parishes, and models both 
 of the house and the bed in which the pauper 
 slept were laid before the court, that it might ascer- 
 tain how much of his body lay in each parish. The 
 court held the pauper to be settled where his head 
 (being the nobler part) lay, though one of his legs at 
 least, and great part of his body, lay out of that parish. 
 Quod notandum est ! 
 
 December tyh. I read term reports in the forenoon, 
 and after dining with the Colliers returned to my 
 chambers till seven, when I went to Alsager's. There 
 I met the Lambs, Hazlitt, Burrell, Ayrton, Coulson, 
 Sleigh, &c. I enjoyed the evening, though I lost at 
 cards, as I have uniformly done. Hazlitt was sober, 
 argumentative, acute, and interesting. I did not con- 
 verse with him, but enjoyed his conversation with 
 others. Lamb was good-humoured and droll, with 
 great originality, as usual. Coulson was a new man 
 almost to me. He is said to be a prodigy of know- 
 ledgea young elfrve of Jeremy Bentham a reporter 
 for The Chronicle. 
 
 December \tyh. Spent the morning at Guildhall agree- 
 ably. After dining at the Colliers', I took a hasty cup 
 of tea with Naylor, and was followed by him to Drury
 
 Kean. Munden. Harley. 
 
 507 
 
 Lane Theatre. We saw Beaumont and Fletcher's play 
 of " The Beggar's Bush." For the first time I saw Kean 
 without any pleasure whatever. He has no personal 
 dignity to supply the want of dress. No one suspects 
 the Prince in the Merchant, and even as the Merchant 
 he has not an air of munificence. He inspires no 
 respect whatever; and he has no opportunity for the 
 display of his peculiar excellence bursts of passion. 
 The beggar-scenes and the loyal burgomaster of Bruges 
 are very pleasant. " Who's Who ? " a farce by Poole, 
 has an amusing scene or two. Munden as a knavish 
 Apothecary's shopman, and Harley as the Apothecary, 
 are very comic. By-the-by, Harley is a young and 
 promising actor. 
 
 December 2$rd. I read several chapters of Paley's 
 " Evidences of Christianity," having resolved to read 
 attentively and seriously that and other works on a 
 subject transcendently important, and which I am 
 ashamed thus long to have delayed studying. I dined 
 with the Colliers and spent some time at home, 
 taking tea alone. I called on Long, and had a short 
 chat with him. The lively pleasure he expressed at 
 my informing him of the books I intended to study 
 quite gratified me. He is a most excellent creature. 
 I look up to him with admiration the more I see of 
 him. 
 
 December 2Jth. Spent the morning at home reading 
 industriously law reports. I dined with Collier, and 
 having read again in my room, I went after six o'clock 
 to Thelwall's, and was present at an exhibition which 
 was more amusing than I expected. " Comus " was 
 
 CH. xviii. 
 1815, 
 
 Who's 
 Who? 
 
 Reading 
 Paley. 
 
 Thelwall.
 
 508 
 
 Annual Retrospect. 
 
 CH. xvni. 
 1815. 
 
 Close of the 
 year. 
 
 Survey of 
 the year. 
 
 performed by Thelwall's family and his pupils. The 
 idea of causing Milton's divine verse to be theatrically 
 recited by a troop of stutterers is comic enough, but 
 Thelwall has so far succeeded in his exertions, that he 
 can enable persons who originally had strong impedi- 
 ments in their speech to recite verse very agreeably. 
 Thelwall inserted some appropriate short verses, to 
 be delivered by the younger children as Bacchanals 
 in an interlude, which had a pleasing effect. He 
 teaches his boys to read with a cantilena; and the 
 accent at the close of their lines is very agreeable. 
 It is only when such words as decision are pro- 
 nounced as four syllables, that we are reminded of 
 the master uncomfortably. 
 
 December T)\st. I spent this morning at my chambers, 
 but Thomas breakfasted with me, and Habakkuk came 
 afterwards. 
 
 At half-past five I went with the Amyots to Mr. 
 Hallet's, and dined there. It was a family party, and 
 the evening passed away comfortably. I was in good 
 spirits, and the rest of the party agreeable. The year 
 was dismissed not festively but cheerfully. 
 
 It has been, like most of the years of my life, a year 
 of uninterrupted health and prosperity. Besides, it is a 
 year in which I have been so successful in my profession, 
 that I have a prospect of affluence if the success con- 
 tinues, which I dare not expect, and about which I am 
 far less anxious than I used to be. I do not now fear 
 poverty. I am not, nor ever was, desirous of riches, but 
 my wants do not, perhaps, increase in proportion to my 
 means. My brother Thomas makes it a reproach to me
 
 Contentment. 
 
 509 
 
 that I do not indulge myself more. This I do not 
 think a duty, and shall probably not make a practice. 
 I hope I shall not contract habits of parsimony.* 
 
 * These remarks were occasioned by the rise in H. C. R's. fees from 
 in 1814 to ^321 155. in the present year ! 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 Woodfall and Kinder, Printers, Milford Lane, Strand, W.C. 
 
 CH. xviir. 
 1815.
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 t' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CAYLORD 
 
 
 
 PRINTED IN U * A 1