Part 14
I have had so strange an education, that if I speak freely upon sacred subjects it is not from an affectation of being an _esprit fort_, but positively because I have no prejudices to combat with. My principles were of my own finding, both religious and moral, for I never was instructed in abstract or practical religion, and as soon as I could think at all chance directed my studies; for though both my parents were as good and as virtuous people as ever breathed, and I was always an only child, yet I was entirely left, not from system, but from fondness and inactivity, to follow my own bent. Happily for me I devoured books, and a desire for information became my ruling passion. The experiment of leaving a child without guidance or advice is a dangerous one, and ought never to be done; for if parents will not educate it themselves they should seek for those that will; but I do not complain, as perhaps all is for the best in this instance, though I should be _bien autre chose_ if I had been regularly taught. I never had any method in my pursuits, and I was always too greedy to follow a thing with any _suite_. Till lately I did not know the common principles of grammar, and still a boy of ten years old would outdo me.
But I never look back upon the early period of my life, but I turn from the picture with disgust. At fifteen, through caprice and folly, I was thrown into the power of one who was a pompous coxcomb, with youth, beauty, and a good disposition, all to be so squandered! The connection was perdition to me in every way; my heart was good, but accustomed to hear and see everything that was mean and selfish, I tried to shut it to the calls of humanity, and used my reason to teach me to hate mankind. Fortune smiled, and made me ample amends for seven or eight years of suffering, by making me know the most favoured of her sons. At Florence, in 1794, I began to think there were exceptions to my system of misanthropy, and every hour from that period to this (’97), which now sees me the happiest of women, have I continued to wonder and admire the most wonderful union of benevolence, sense, and integrity in the character of the excellent being whose faith is pledged with mine. Either he has imparted some of his goodness to me, or the example of his excellence has drawn out the latent good I had--as certainly I am a better person and a more useful member of society than I was in my years of misery.
_November 1st, ’97._--The peace with Emperor and the Republic is certain, and a _guerre à mort_ between this island and all the vast power of the brave, conquering French. How this country can get out of the _mauvais pas_ it is in remains to be seen. I think it is, from the obstinacy and folly of the Government, lost, and that completely by its own fault.
Le bien nous le faisons, le mal c’est la fortune; On a toujours raison, le destin toujours tort.
Unjust as mankind is, it can hardly rest the blame of our destruction upon Fortune.
_À propos_ of the simple, philosophical La Fontaine, I either read or heard a touching trait of his simplicity lately. He was wise enough to despise money, and spent all he had from not knowing its value or caring for its production. When reduced to nothing he lived with a friend, who loved him and supplied the very few wants he had. This friend died. One who had known La Fontaine at his house immediately went to invite him to come and live with him. He met La Fontaine on the road to his _château_, and upon hearing the invitation the poet replied ‘J’y allais.’ The _naïveté_ of his reply is very striking: to a mind like his the accepting money was no dependence, he wanted it not for luxuries, but for existence. He paints his own character in his epitaph.
The King has been to see the Dutch prizes. It is supposed that the extreme fuss that has been made about the victory proceeds from some dirty politics of the King’s own, as much less was done for Ld. St. Vincent, and his victory was more brilliant;[170] but Duncan is a relation of Mr. Dundas’s and a Scotchman, and Ld. St. Vincent a member of Ld. Lansdown’s, who though he never voted against the war yet he never did for it, and it was known that his opinion went violently against that of the Court--a crime the paltry Sovereign can never pardon even in the most distinguished. So these rejoicings are meant to mortify him. It is an odd circumstance that Ld. St. Vincent used to sign ‘John Jervis’ for many months after the honour of the earldom had been conferred upon him, and he only ceased using it upon its being noticed from the Ministers. Indeed, some of the new creations might well disgust him of a dignity rendered now so contemptible.
[Sidenote: SIR GILBERT ELLIOT]
Sir Gilbert Elliot was the man I used to esteem the most for integrity and respectability among the Opposition. He is the son of a poor Scotch baronet, who was one of the King’s men. He and his brother were sent to Paris to be educated, and at the college he formed a friendship with the celebrated Mirabeau, and some years afterwards, when Mirabeau was tried for his life in England upon the accusation of having robbed his servant, Sir G. and Mr. Burke appeared in a court of justice to give testimony to his morals. Sir G. married a Miss Amyand (Lady Malmesbury’s sister). He was a sycophant of Burke’s, and during the Regency was as bitter against the poor mad King as his patron. All the papers at that time were drawn up by him, and he is reckoned to be the choicest writer of his own tongue since Addison. At the great crash among the Opposition he is accused of having repeated conversations falsely, and by so doing pledging each division to go further than they intended. Each party tell a different story, but I cannot decide upon the truth of the report. After the great schism Messrs. Windham, Grenville, and Pelham agreed to remain out of office, and they called themselves the ‘Independent Triumvirate.’ Sir G. E., by intrigue and working upon W.’s vanity, persuaded him that his not having a share of responsibility for the measures he supported was cowardly, and worked upon him to go into office in ’94. Sir G. then got the foolish commission to Toulon, and when that affair ended so ill, averse to giving up the emoluments (the full pay of Ambassador) he and Ld. Hood together hit upon that wild scheme of Corsica.
His display of domestic virtues reminded me of a saying of Saint-Foix, who, talking of Lord A. said he was a crafty, hypocritical man, with _mœurs_ in his mouth and sin in his heart, and that his whole system was artificial, that his wife was the same, and that even ‘les petits enfants jouent aussi leurs rôles.’ His wife is a sprightly, prating, gossiping woman, with a large share of vanity and a moderate one of sense. She is the only woman I ever saw that Ld. H. absolutely cannot endure.
The French made a lively sort of epigram against Santerre,[171] the infamous brewer, who became General, and attended Louis XVI. to the scaffold. The sting of it turns upon their popular liquor, ‘La bonne bierre de Mars’:--
Ci-gît le Général Santerre, Qui n’a de Mars que sa bierre.
The secession of Mr. Fox from his duty in Parliament is a subject of great discontent to the Ministry, a strong proof that it has in part the effect intended. It is believed that if he would attend, this vexatious scheme for Assessed Taxes would be relinquished.
[Sidenote: BOBUS SMITH’S MARRIAGE]
A family event is upon the point of taking place, which surprised us all when we heard of it, a union with Mr. S.[172] and Miss V.[173] In a worldly point of view it is bad, as they will be excessively poor, but the worst part is the great disparity of age; he is twenty-seven, she is thirty-nine, twelve years upon the wrong side. I shall dwell upon his character some time or other; and perhaps hers, though it has few features beyond that of being good-hearted and well disposed.
I am most unusually dull! I heard a _bon mot_ of Mr. Erskine’s that I think is good. He was at dinner sitting between (May 17,’97) Mr. Adam and Mr. Crewe. He was attacking Mr. A. for his constant opposition to Parliamentary reform when in Parliament, and soliciting Mr. C. for his vote for the reform which was then coming on. ‘What company I am in!’ exclaimed Erskine, ‘a _Crewe_ in mutiny, and an _Adam_ with original sin.’ The fleet was in mutiny at the Nore.
About the same time it was decided in a court of justice that an affidavit must have a title. Erskine, while his adversary was pleading for the necessity of the title, wrote in court these lines:--
In times like these when ’tis the vogue To title every fool and rogue, Up starts a perjured affidavit And swears that he must also have it.
Lord Lauderdale dined here and mentioned having just left Ld. Thurlow,[174] whose opinion he had asked about these Triple Assessments;[175] he answered in his usual style of vehemence and imprecation, ‘D--n seize the whole set of them; _I_ look for Bonaparte, and expect redress from him in London at the head of 100,000 men.’
It is _said_ that Mr. Fox’s constituents insisted upon his return to Parliament. He went there on the 13th of December and made an incomparable speech;[176] there are those who still hope the Minister will abandon the scheme, but as it is one of his own he feels the greatest parental fondness for it, and will relinquish it (if he should) with the greatest reluctance. I have just got from Ld. Lauderdale[177] the copy of a curious letter written by Lord Moira to be shown to Mr. Fox. It contains proposals for a motley Administration, but I have not yet read the particulars.
[Sidenote: LORD MOIRA]
Lord M., had he lived in the days of Rochefoucauld, would have been the character to have furnished that excellent observation that ‘La gravité est un mystère du corps pour cacher les defauts de l’esprit,’ as upon the gravity of his deportment and the passive goodness of his morals he has founded a sort of reputation that neither his abilities or his conduct have entitled him to possess. An attachment to his profession, which he imbibed from beholding the military discipline of the Austrians, and a desire of distinguishing himself by entering sooner that he might go to America, are the only brilliant points in his character. _Au reste_, he is a conceited, solemn coxcomb, with as much ambition as the coldness of his disposition allows. Since the unpopularity of the P. of Wales he has been the only man of distinction, either of rank or reputation, who has supported him. He is his adviser, and certainly looks forward to being at the head of affairs in this country after the King’s death, if not before. His farewell speech to the English troops in Holland deserved very severe reprehension, as much for the injudiciousness of inspiring at that moment despondency, and for his vanity in implying that his going was sufficient to cause it. He is a man of veracity, a quality strictly necessary in him. It was his father who said he never used any manure, or allowed his tenants to apply any other than what came from silkworms. There are various other extraordinary stories of his, much in the style.
His politics he conducts so that he may be in power with either side--a shabby mode of proceeding, unless it is founded upon indifference to both sides, and merely to secure safety in commotions; and even then the safety of it is doubtful. Timidity in public life I own I despise, for though I feel very lukewarm it is from the effect of circumstances and reasoning, and not disposition; for were I to indulge my nature my principles are _à la hauteur de la révolution_. I must either be one of the greatest patriots or tyrants that have lived. But I dread adding a spark to the flame already kindled in Ld. H.’s disposition; for every change must be the worse for me, who already possess such unalloyed happiness.
[Sidenote: ‘MONK’ LEWIS]
Mr. Lewis,[178] who is known in the literary world by having written a very popular romance called _The Monk_ in which there are some very pretty verses, has just given to the public a play not totally without merit. He has borrowed very much from the literature of the German, and his imagination, so schooled, is sometimes extravagant and monstrous. It may not be very consistent with chaste taste to admit that the German pleases, yet there are specimens that are sublime and touching, though in general the great affectation there is of simplicity and honour are more revolting than pleasing. The most fascinating part of the new play is perhaps the acting, and the agency of a most graceful female spirit, yet the two last acts may boast of intellectual interest. I saw him to-day for the first time here. He is little in person, rather ugly and shortsighted; upon the whole not engaging, though better than I expected from the picture made of him to me.
Lord Granville L.-Gower is going immediately to Berlin to congratulate the young King upon his accession.[179] It will require the pen and genius of another Mirabeau to describe and detect the intricacies of the intrigues going on there. The monarch is represented to be obstinate, weak, and unfeeling; the second brother, who died two years past, was the one of the whole family most favoured by natural endowments, though he may perhaps only share that reputation in common with all princes who die prematurely. The D. of Brunswick is gone to Berlin, according to report, to govern the King. If obstinacy and folly are as much combined in his character as they say it is, the Duke will find the undertaking as difficult as that he engaged in when he invaded Champagne.
I passed a few days at Berlin in ’96, and was fortunate enough (for I then thought it so) to arrive the day before a review; which, when I had seen I found I had seen nothing. For, stunned by the noise, choked with the smoke, and blinded by the dust, the four hours spent upon the sandy plain were so many of bodily sufferance, and the only instruction I derived was that a man may easily evade and play the part _I_ should in a battle, viz., run away and not be missed. Glad to escape from a scene, disagreeable in itself, and made more detestable by reflecting upon the intention of it, I went to a small house on a cross-road, which was found filled with royal attendants, _i.e._ a seraglio. Shortly after the unwieldy monster, for whose pleasures they were assembled, appeared upon a horse of a proportionable size to himself. After hearing their names he selected those he chose to have follow him to Charlottenburg. The royal wish being signified, three or four ascended a carriage that was in waiting, and the whole party, accompanied by the famous Bischoffsverder and some other courtiers, set off to engage in the most disgusting debaucheries that ever disgraced a court. When he was dying he frequently asked of the physicians when they thought it would be over with him, and expressed great impatience for the moment of dissolution. This desire of death in a timid, bad man was remarkable, for such a contempt of life was not in his character; but it appeared that he firmly gave credit to the _Illuminés_, and believed he should return within eight days to life in the form of a handsome young woman. Some of his mistresses are under a suspicion of having embezzled great sums, and the celebrated Mde. de Rietz[180] is under confinement, and her goods, etc., confiscated--a paltry measure for a Sovereign, for if the money was given, however injudiciously, it is a reflection upon the memory of his parent, and is a shabby robbery. Mde. de Rietz was the Pompadour of Berlin; no longer fit to please the King she sought those that could. It is her daughter that Ld. Bristol quarrelled with his son for not marrying last year.
[Sidenote: FREDERICK WILLIAM II.]
Ld. Malmesbury was to have gone to make the compliments, but most likely Mr. Canning made him relinquish it for the sake of his young friend; and Ld. M. did it more readily since the memento of mortality he has lately had. His head is awry, and his whole appearance indicates a universal shock.
Ld. H. made, on ye 10th of January, his debut in the H. of Lords, on the subject of the Assessed Taxes.[181] He spoke well in his first speech, but admirably in his reply. His speech was precisely what a friend would wish: argumentative and simple, evidently not a studied declamation, and such as a first opening should be, more because it promised success than that it possessed it. I should have been sorry to have heard it was eloquent, as almost all the speakers who have begun pompously have stopped short, as for instance Ld. Hawkesbury, Belgrave, and Mr. Canning. The wit and quickness of his reply is an answer to those who probably would have ascribed to Mr. Fox his speech. In answer to Lord Grenville’s repeated boasts of the excellence of the Constitution, he said it reminded him of Prior’s lines:--
When Harlequin extolled his horse Fit for the road, the chase, the course; One fault he had, a fault indeed, And what was that? His horse was dead.
He entered a protest, but by some unlucky misunderstanding the Duke of Bedford did not sign it, and Ld. H. was too indolent to get the signatures of the other peers who wanted to sign; and unfortunately Ld. Oxford was the only person who signed with him. The Assessed Taxes have passed, and there is besides a voluntary subscription open for those who have money enough left to squander upon such an absurd donation.[182] The Assessed Taxes add to us 1000_l._ and fifty pounds besides the old assessment--a sum added to the annual expenditure that compels us to exceed our income, and nothing but the desperate state of affairs can make me look upon such a certainty as a moderate calamity.
[Sidenote: MR. GREY]
Messrs. Grey, Tierney, and Erskine dined here last week. Grey was placid in temper and pleasing in his manner, a contrast to the general state of both, as he is usually irritable and supercilious. His heart is warm and excellent, and those few who do not detest him love him with great affection, but he is universally unpopular from the offensiveness of his behaviour. He says he is dissatisfied with his political conduct, and regrets having continued so long in Parliament after seceding. He began his political career under the auspices of Ld. Lansdown; the beauty and attraction of the Dss. of Devonshire drew him to the party of which she was a most active partisan. His abilities and connections secured him the flattery of the Whigs, and more seduced by his heart than convinced by his reason, he became an adherent of Mr. Fox’s. For many years he was discontented, for his ambition and vanity have been checked and mortified, the first from the desperate, unavailing opposition, and his vanity at being compared with Sheridan and obliged to act in concert with him. His eloquence is more pleasing and agreeable than forcible and deep; in private life he is very respectable. He has married the Duchess of Devonshire’s relation, Miss Ponsonby, a mild, insipid, pretty girl.[183] They are very happy, and if he is satisfied it is no person’s business to express astonishment at it.
Tierney[184] is a man of whom everybody believes something against, but I could never discover upon what fact such a belief was founded, as he has never committed any overt act. His birth is obscure, not to say mean. He married a woman who brought him a fortune, which his extreme parsimony will prevent him from squandering. He is shrewd and lively, and has apparently a very bad opinion of mankind.
A person who was sent about two years ago to explore the interior parts of Africa is just returned. He is a Scotchman of the name of M. Park,[185] very much protected by Sir Joseph Banks, and esteemed a man of veracity. He has neither fancy or genius, and if he does fib it is dully. He has traced the Niger to its source about a 1000 miles from the _embouchure_ of the Senegal. He describes it as falling into a vast mediterranean lake, from whence it probably issues, but that he could not ascertain. He met with great difficulties, and was frequently in danger of losing his life. In a Negro district he was once imprisoned and condemned to death. The Queen saved his life by proposing to preserve him as a curiosity for his complexion, but at the expense of his sight. He escaped, however, that sacrifice. A Major Houghton, who preceded him in the expedition, went laden with beads and toys, hoping to engage the friendship of the inhabitants by his paltry gifts. He succeeded for some time, but falling in with an intrepid, rapacious people, to obtain all his riches they massacred him. This man lived with the Negroes everywhere, shunning the Moors, whom he represents as cruel and perfidious.
There is another adventurer wandering, whose history is remarkable, and if what he says is true his discoveries are curious. A student in the Temple of the name of Browne[186] allowed his imagination to be heated by the perusal of Quintus Curtius, and became convinced that he could discover the Temple of Jupiter Ammon. With all the ardour of youth and the enthusiasm of a proselyte, he quitted England, and arrived at Cairo without the smallest equipment for a laborious journey, or the least knowledge in the Oriental languages. He there engaged with a caravan, which was going across the deserts of Libya; after sixteen days’ journey from Alexandria they arrived at a fertile, verdant spot, insulated in the sands, conformable to the description given of the oasis on which the famous temple was erected.
[Sidenote: MR. BROWNE]