Acland, my old and kind friend. I was happy to see him. He may be
considered now as the head of the religious party in the House of
Commons, a powerful body which Wilberforce long commanded. It is a
difficult situation; for the adaptation of religious motives to earthly
policy is apt--among the infinite delusions of the human heart--to be a
snare. But I could confide much in Sir T. Acland's honour and integrity.
Bishop Blomfield [of Chester],[173] one of the most learned prelates of
the church, also dined.
Coming home, an Irish coachman drove us into a _cul de sac_, near
Battersea Bridge. We were obliged to get out in the rain. The people
admitted us into their houses, where they were having their bit of
supper, assisted with lights, etc., and, to the honour of London,
neither asked nor expected gratification.
_April_ 20.--We went to Walter's quarters in a body, and saw Hampton
Court, with which I was more struck than when I saw it for the first
time, about 1806. The pictures are not very excellent, but they are
curious, which is as interesting, except to connoisseurs. Two I
particularly remarked, of James I. and Charles I. eating in public. The
old part of the palace, built by Wolsey, is extremely fine. Two handsome
halls are still preserved: one, the ceiling of which is garnished, at
the crossing and combining of the arches, with the recurring heads of
Henry VIII. and Anne Boleyn--great stinginess in Henry, for these
ornaments must have been put up after Wolsey's fall. He could surely
afford a diversity of this species of ornament if any man could.
Formerly, when the palace was completely a fishing-house, it extended
into, or rather over, the river. We had a good dinner from Walter, and
wended merrily home.
_April_ 21.--Dining is the principal act of the day in London. We took
ours at Kensington with Croker. There were Theodore Hook and other
witty men. He looks unhealthy and bloated. There was something, I know
not what, awanting to the cheerfulness of the party. And
"Silence like a heavy cloud,
O'er all the warriors hung."
If the general report of Croker's retiring be accurate, it may account
for this.
_April_ 22.--Sophia left this to take down poor Johnnie to Brighton. I
fear--I fear--but we must hope the best. Anne went with her sister.
Lockhart and I dined with Sotheby, where we met a large dining party,
the orator of which was that extraordinary man Coleridge. After eating a
hearty dinner, during which he spoke not a word, he began a most learned
harangue on the Samothracian Mysteries, which he considered as affording
the germ of all tales about fairies past, present, and to come. He then
diverged to Homer, whose Iliad he considered as a collection of poems by
different authors, at different times during a century. There was, he
said, the individuality of an age, but not of a country. Morritt, a
zealous worshipper of the old bard, was incensed at a system which would
turn him into a polytheist, gave battle with keenness, and was joined by
Sotheby, our host. Mr. Coleridge behaved with the utmost complaisance
and temper, but relaxed not from his exertions. "Zounds! I was never so
bethumped with words." Morritt's impatience; must have cost him an extra
sixpence worth of snuff.[174]
We went to Lady Davy's in the evening, where there was a fashionable
party.
_April_ 23.--- Dined at Lady Davy's with Lord and Lady Lansdowne, and
several other fashionable folks. My keys were sent to Bramah's with my
desk, so I have not had the means of putting matters down regularly for
several days; but who cares for the whipp'd cream of London society? Our
poor little Johnnie is extremely ill. My fears have been uniform for
this engaging child. We are in God's hands. But the comfortable and
happy object of my journey is ended,--Seged, Emperor of Ethiopia,[175]
was right after all.
_April_ 24.--Spent the day in rectifying a road bill which drew a
turnpike road through all the Darnickers' cottages, and a good field of
my own. I got it put to rights. I was in some apprehension of being
obliged to address the Committee. I did not fear them, for I suppose
they are no wiser or better in their capacity of legislators than I find
them every day at dinner. But I feared for my reputation. They would
have expected something better than the occasion demanded, or the
individual could produce, and there would have been a failure.
_April_ 25.--Threatened to be carried down to vote at the election of a
Collector of the Cess.[176] Resolved if I did go to carry my son with
me, which would give me a double vote.
Had some disagreeable correspondence about this with Lord Minto and the
Sheriff.
We had one or two persons at home in great wretchedness to dinner.
Lockhart's looks showed the misery he felt. I was not able to make any
fight, and the evening went off as heavily as any I ever spent in the
course of my life.
Finished my Turnpike business by getting the exceptionable clauses
omitted, which would be good news to Darnick. Put all the _Mirror_ in
proof and corrected it. This is the contribution (part of it) to Mr.
Reynolds' and Heath's _Keepsake_. We dined at Richardson's with the two
chief Barons of England[177] and Scotland.[178] Odd enough, the one
being a Scotsman and the other an Englishman. Far the pleasantest day we
have had; I suppose I am partial, but I think the lawyers beat the
bishops, and the bishops beat the wits.
_April_ 26.--This morning I went to meet a remarkable man, Mr. Boyd of
the house of Boyd, Benfield & Co., which broke for a very large sum at
the beginning of the war. Benfield went to the devil, I believe. Boyd, a
man of a very different stamp, went over to Paris to look after some
large claims which his house had over the French Government. They were
such as it seems they could not disavow, however they might be disposed
to do so. But they used every effort, by foul means and fair, to induce
Mr. Boyd to depart. He was reduced to poverty; he was thrown into
prison; and the most flattering prospects were, on the other hand, held
out to him if he would compromise his claims. His answer was uniform. It
was the property, he said, of his creditors, and he would die ere he
resigned it. His distresses were so great that a subscription was made
among his Scottish friends, to which I was a contributor, through the
request of poor Will Erskine. After the peace of Paris the money was
restored, and, faithful to the last, Boyd laid the whole at his
creditors' disposal; stating, at the same time, that he was penniless
unless they consented to allow him a moderate sum in name of percentage,
in consideration of twenty years of danger, poverty, and [exile], all of
which evils he might have escaped by surrendering their right to the
money. Will it be believed that a muck-worm was base enough to refuse
his consent to this deduction, alleging he had promised to his father,
on his death-bed, never to compromise this debt. The wretch, however,
was overpowered by the execrations of all around him, and concurred,
with others, in setting apart for Mr. Boyd a sum of £40,000 or £50,000
out of half a million of money.[179] This is a man to whom statues
should be erected, and pilgrims should go to see him. He is
good-looking, but old and infirm. Bright dark eyes and eyebrows contrast
with his snowy hair, and all his features mark vigour of principle and
resolution. Mr. Morritt dined with us, and we did as well as in the
circumstances could be expected.
Released from the alarm of being summoned down to the election by a
civil letter from Lord Minto. I am glad both of the relief and of the
manner. I hate civil war amongst neighbours.
_April_ 27.--Breakfasted this day with Charles Dumergue on a _poulet à
la tartare_, and saw all his family, specially my godson. Called on Lady
Stafford and others, and dined at Croker's in the Admiralty, with the
Duke of Wellington, Huskisson, Wilmot Horton, and others, outs and ins.
No politics of course, and every man disguising serious thoughts with a
light brow. The Duke alone seemed open, though not letting out a word.
He is one of the few whose lips are worth watching. I heard him say
to-day that the best troops would run now and then. He thought nothing
of men running, he said, provided they came back again. In war he had
always his reserves. Poor Terry was here when I returned. He seems to
see his matters in a delusive light.
_April_ 28.--An attack this day or yesterday from poor Gillies, boring
me hard to apply to Menzies of Pitfoddels to entreat him to lend him
money. I could not get him to understand that I was decidedly averse to
write to another gentleman, with whom I was hardly acquainted, to do
that which I would not do myself. Tom Campbell[180] is in miserable
distress--his son insane--his wife on the point of becoming so. _I nunc,
et versus tecum meditare canoros._[181]
We, _i.e._ Charles and I, dined at Sir Francis Freeling's with Colonel
Harrison of the Board of Green Cloth, Dr. [Maltby] of Lincoln's Inn, and
other pleasant people. Doctor Dibdin too, and Utterson, all old
Roxburghe men. Pleasant party, were it not for a bad cold, which makes
me bark like a dog.
_April_ 29.--Anne and Lockhart are off with the children this morning at
seven, and Charles and I left behind; and this is the promised meeting
of my household! I went to Dr. Gilly's to-day to breakfast. Met Sir
Thomas Acland, who is the youngest man of his age I ever saw. I was so
much annoyed with cough, that, on returning, I took to my bed and had a
siesta, to my considerable refreshment. Dr. Fergusson called, and
advised caution in eating and drinking, which I will attend to.
Dined accordingly. Duke of Sussex had cold and did not come. A Mr. or
Dr. Pettigrew made me speeches on his account, and invited me to see his
Royal Highness's library, which I am told is a fine one. Sir Peter
Laurie, late Sheriff, and in nomination to be Lord Mayor, bored me
close, and asked more questions than would have been thought warrantable
at the west end of the town.
_April_ 30.--We had Mr. Adolphus and his father, the celebrated lawyer,
to breakfast, and I was greatly delighted with the information of the
latter. A barrister of extended practice, if he has any talents at all,
is the best companion in the world.[182]
Dined with Lord Alvanley and a fashionable party, Lord Fitzroy Somerset,
Marquis and Marchioness of Worcester, etc. Lord Alvanley's wit made the
party very pleasant, as well as the kind reception of my friends the
Misses Arden.