After writing some verses in the W---- album, in which Arabian steeds,
Timour's magnificence, Cecil, Elizabeth, and the fair beauties of
Teheran, met in agreeable confusion, I took leave of my kind hosts, and
returned to London. The same evening L---- took me to a singular
exhibition.
In a suburb, a good German mile from my lodging, we entered a sort of
barn; dirty, with no other ceiling than the rough roof, through which
the moon peeped here and there. In the middle was a boarded place, about
twelve feet square, surrounded by a strong wooden breastwork: round this
was a gallery filled with the lowest vulgar and with perilous-looking
faces of both sexes. A ladder led up to a higher gallery, for the
patrician part of the spectators, which was let out at three shillings a
seat. There was a strange contrast between the 'local' and a crystal
lustre hanging from one of the balks of the roof lighted with thick wax
candles: as well as between the 'fashionables' and the populace among
whom they were scattered, who--the latter I mean--were continually
offering and taking bets of from twenty to fifty pounds. The subject of
these was a fine terrier, the illustrious Billy, who pledged himself to
the public to kill a hundred rats in ten minutes. As yet the arena was
empty, and there was an anxious, fearful pause; while in the lower
gallery huge pots of beer circulated from mouth to mouth, and tobacco
smoke ascended in dense clouds. At length appeared a strong man, bearing
a sack, looking like a sack of potatoes, but in fact containing the
hundred live rats. These he set at liberty in one moment by untying the
knot, scattered them about the place, and rapidly made his retreat into
a corner. At a given signal Billy rushed in, and set about his murderous
work with incredible fury. As soon as a rat lay lifeless, Billy's
faithful esquire picked him up and put him in the sack; among these some
might be only senseless, or perhaps there might be some old
practitioners who feigned themselves dead at the first bite. However, be
that as it may, Billy won in nine minutes and a quarter, according to
all the watches; in which time a hundred dead, or apparently dead, rats
were replaced in their old quarters--the sack. This was the first act.
In the second, the heroic Billy, (who was greeted with the continual
shouts of an enraptured audience,) fought with a badger. Each of the
combatants had a second, who held him by the tail. Only one bite or
gripe was allowed; then they were separated, and immediately let loose
again. Billy had always the best of it, and the poor badger's ears
streamed with blood. In this combat, too, Billy was bound to seize the
badger fast in a certain number of minutes,--I don't recollect how many.
This he accomplished in brilliant style, but retired at last greatly
exhausted.
The _amusements_ ended with bear-baiting, in which the bear treated some
dogs extremely ill, and seemed to suffer little himself. It was evident
through the whole, that the managers were too chary of their animals to
expose them in earnest; I therefore, as I said, suspected from the
beginning some hidden talents for representation--even in the rats.
In a few months, cock fights will be held in the same place. I shall
send you a description of them.
_Dec. 21st._
There are unquestionably three natures in man,--a vegetable one, which
is content merely to exist; an animal, which destroys; and an
intellectual, which creates. Many are satisfied with the first, most lay
claim to the second, and a few to the third. I must confess, alas! that
my life here belongs to Class I., at which I am often discontented
enough: 'but I can't help it.'
You have heard of the English Roscius. A new little wonder of this kind
has appeared, and the maturity of his early talent is really
astonishing. Master Burke (so this little fellow is called) acts at the
Surrey Theatre. Though only ten years old, he played five or six very
different parts, with a humour, apparent familiarity with the stage,
'aplomb,' volubility of utterance, accurate memory, and suppleness and
power over his little person, which are perfectly amazing. What struck
me most, however, was, that in a little interlude he acted his own
natural part,--a boy of ten years old,--with such uncommon truth that
the genuine 'naivété' of childhood he represented, could be nothing but
the inspiration of genius,--it is impossible it could be the result of
reflection in such a child. He began with the part of an Italian
music-master, in which he displayed extraordinary mastery of the violin,
and that not only in acquired dexterity, but in the good taste of his
playing, and a fulness and beauty of tone seldom equalled. You perceived
in his whole performance that he was born a musician. Next followed a
learned pedant; then a rough captain of a ship; and so on;--every part
admirably filled, and the by play, in which so many fail, peculiarly
easy, clever, and appropriate. His last character was Napoleon,--the
only one in which he failed; and this failure was exactly the thing that
put the crown to my admiration. It is characteristic of true genius,
that in the meagre, absurd, and foolish, it appears foolish too; and
this part was the quintessence of bad taste and stupidity. It is the
same in life. Turn Lessing into a courtier for instance, or Napoleon
into R---- Lieutenant, and you will see how miserably each will fill his
part.
Generally speaking, the important thing is that every man should be in
his right place. If he is, some excellence will scarcely ever fail to be
developed in him. Thus, for instance, my genius consists in a fancy, so
to say, practically applicable; I have nothing to do but to wind it up
like a watch, not only to find myself immediately at home in every
actual situation, but employing it as a stimulus, to throw myself
headlong down any conceivable precipice. If I get hurt in the fall, I
can use it again as a restorative, by the unexpected discovery of some
wonderful piece of luck or other. Now is this the consequence of an
accidental physical organization, or of an acquired power,--acquired
perhaps through a hundred preceding generations? Had this spiritual
individual whom I call _myself_, any previous existence connected with
another form? and does it endure independent, or does it lose itself
again in the universal Whole, after the bursting of that bubble which
the eternal fermentation of the universe throws up?
Is--as many will have it--the history of the world (or what passes in
time), as well as of nature (or what passes in space,) predetermined
through its whole course, according to the immutable laws of a guiding
will? and does it end like a drama in the victory of good over evil?--or
does the free power of the spirit fashion its own future, uncertain in
all its incidents, and only subject to the conditions necessary to its
existence?--'That is the question!' Meantime, thus much appears to me
clear;--that, by the adoption of the former hypothesis,--turn it which
way we will,--we are all, more or less, mere finely-constructed puppets:
it is only according to the second, that we remain free spirits. I will
not deny that there is in me an unconquerable, instinctive feeling, like
the deepest consciousness of _self_, which impels me to the latter
belief. This may possibly be an inspiration of the devil! Yet he does
not lead me so far astray, as that I do not, with profound humility and
gratitude, ascribe this, our mysterious being, to that great
incomprehensible Creator, the object of my highest and deepest love. But
forasmuch as our origin is god-like, we must live on, independently, in
God. Hear what Angelius Silesius, the pious Catholic, says on this
subject.
"Soll ich mein letztes End, und ersten Anfang finden,
So muss ich mich in Gott und Gott in Mir ergrunden;
Und werden das, was Er, ich muss ein Schein im Schein,
Ich muss ein Wert im Wort, ein Gott im Gotte seyn."[73]
For this very reason is the doctrine intolerable to me, that man was
formerly in a more exalted and perfect state than now; but has gradually
degenerated, and must labour up again, through sin and misery, till he
reach his pristine perfection. How much more accordant with all the laws
of nature,--how much more consistent with the character of an eternal,
most high, all-pervading, all-ruling Love and Justice, is it, to imagine
that the human race (which I regard as one) advances, from a beginning
necessarily imperfect, onward and onward towards perfection, by its own
energy; although indeed the germ of that energy be implanted by the love
of the Most Highest! The golden age of mankind, says the Duke de St.
Simon, very justly, is not behind, but before us. Our age might be
called (rather for the will than the power) the mystic age. True
mysticism is indeed rare; but it must be confessed that it is a most
skilful and profitable invention of the worldly-wise, to throw a cloak
of titular mysticism over absurdity itself. Behind this curtain,
unhappily, lurk many things,--even that original sin which our modern
mystics dwell upon so much.
Some years ago I was in a very intelligent party, though small in
number,--consisting only of a lady and two gentlemen. An argument arose
concerning original sin. The lady and I declared ourselves against the
doctrine,--the two gentlemen, for it, though perhaps, more for the sake
of letting off some intellectual fireworks than from conviction. "Yes,"
said our antagonists at length, "the doctrine of original sin is
doubtless true: like the new French Charter, it was the impulse towards
knowledge forcing its way. With the gratification of this impulse came
evil into the world; which, however, was also necessary to our
purification,--to our _own_ merit, the only thing truly meritorious."
"On this interpretation," replied I, turning to my ally, "we may be
content to admit it; for this is only our own meaning in other words,--a
schooling--the necessary transition from bad to better, by the help of
our own experience and acquired wisdom." "Certainly," added the lady;
"only then you ought not to call it _hereditary sin_."[74] "'Gnädige
Frau,'" answered one of our antagonists, "we will not quarrel about the
name; if you like it better, we will call it _hereditary nobility_ for
the future."
After all these profound and subtle reflections, I made the discovery
to-day that the most frivolous people in the world do actually reflect
on their own minds and characters. An Austrian of rank who has been here
some time, did me the favour to give me the following counsels of
practical philosophy, which I must record literally for the sake of
their originality.
"I hold nothing to be more silly," said he, "than to annoy oneself about
the future. Look ye,--when I came here it was just summer, and the
season was over. Now another man would have been annoyed at having
arrived just at such a bad time; but I thought it would pass over,
and--just so--you see we're got to November. In the mean time Esterhazy
took me into the country, where I enjoyed myself amazingly; and now
there is one more month bad, and then 'twill be full again: the balls
and the routs will begin,--and what can I wish better? Should not I have
been a perfect fool, now, to distress myself without a cause? Am I not
right? We must live in the world just like a H----, and never think too
much of the future."[75]
I admit, indeed, that this practical gentleman and I are of very
different natures; and doubtless many a philosopher by profession must
regard my lucubrations with about as much pity as I do the Austrian's.
And yet the result is, alas! the same with all: the only uncertainty is,
which is the majority. Probably they who think themselves the cleverest.
_Dec. 28th._
I have received the unpleasant intelligence that the vessel on board
which I sent you all the seeds and flowers I had bought, has been
wrecked off Heligoland, and but few of the hands saved. Friend L---- has
also lost a great part of his effects. This is the only vessel that has
been lost in those seas this year, and has doubtless the folly of
sailing on a Friday to thank for it. You laugh; but that day has a
peculiar quality, and I too have a dread of it; for in the inexplicable
embodied picture of the days of the week, which my fancy has
involuntarily painted, that is the only one coal-black. Perhaps you'd
like to know, now I am upon the subject, the colours of the others. It
is a mystical sort of secret. Well then; Sunday is yellow, Monday blue,
Tuesday brown, Wednesday and Saturday brick-red, Thursday ash-gray. All
these day-persons have also an extraordinary and appropriate spiritual
body,--that is, transparent, without any determinate form or size.
But to return to Friday.--The American Secretary of Legation lately told
me what follows.
"The superstition that Friday is an unlucky day," said he, "is firmly
rooted in the minds of our seamen to this hour. An enlightened merchant
in Connecticut conceived the wish, a few years ago, to do his utmost to
weaken an impression which has often very inconvenient results. He
therefore had a new ship laid on the stocks on a Friday: on a Friday she
was launched; he named her Friday; and by his orders she sailed on her
first voyage on a Friday. Unhappily for the effect of his well-meant
experiment, nothing was ever heard of the vessel or crew from that day
to this."
Yesterday I received your letter.
That your jewel, as you affectionately call him, should be not only
overlooked by many in the world, but with great satisfaction trodden
under-foot, arises naturally enough from this,--that he is polished only
on some few sides; and if one of these does not happen to strike the eye
of the passer-by, he is 'comme de raison,' regarded as a mere common
pebble; and, if it happens that one of his sharp points gives pain, is
trodden down as much as possible. He is valued only by here and there a
connoisseur, and by the possessor,--who overvalues him.
Your description of the English family in B---- made me laugh; the
originals for such portraits are common enough in the world of London.
The 'tournure' of the ladies, with few exceptions, is indeed as awkward
as what you have seen in B----; but long enjoyed and boundless wealth,
old historic names, and stately invincible reserve, give to the
aristocratical society of England something imposing--especially to a
North-German nobleman, who is so small a personage. Do not take to heart
the little disaster you tell me of. What are these but insignificant
clouds, so long as the sun of the mind shines clear in our inward
heaven? You should seek more amusement. Go to W----, to H----, to L----.
We ought not to visit people only when we stand in need of them: if we
do, they cannot believe that we love and value them, but only that we
use them;--and yet could these three but see our hearts, they would
learn to know and to love us better, than by words or visits. As to the
park, I'm afraid you have murdered venerable age in cold blood, like a
cruel tyrant as you are. So then, limes that had seen three centuries
fell unwilling martyrs to a clear view. That is certainly in the spirit
of the age. Henceforward, however, I give you my instructions only to
plant; plant as much as you like, but remove nothing that is there.
By-and-by I shall come myself and sever the tares from the wheat.
_Dec. 31st._
Don Miguel of Portugal is arrived, and I was presented to him this
morning. No body was present but the 'corps diplomatique' and a few
foreigners. The young Prince is not ill-looking, and indeed resembles
Napoleon; but his manner was rather embarrassed. He wore seven stars,
and seven great orders over his coat. His complexion is like the olive
of his fatherland, and the expression of his countenance rather
melancholy than otherwise.
_Jan. 1st, 1828._
My best wishes and a hearty kiss at the beginning of a new year. Perhaps
this is the good year which we have been so long expecting, like the
Jews their Messias, in vain. I ushered it in at least very cheerfully.
We spent yesterday at Sir L---- M----'s, who had invited five or six
very pretty girls, and at midnight we drank a toast to the new year.
L---- and I took occasion to introduce the German mode of saluting the
ladies, to which, after the prescribed quantity of resistance, they
consented.
To-day I ate part of an Hanoverian roe (there are none in England) at
Count Münster's country-house. Somebody, by way of Christmas present,
fired a blunderbuss into the large window of his sitting-room at the
very moment the Countess was distributing her Christmas gifts to her
children.[76] The shot had pierced the looking-glasses like pasteboard,
in a hundred little holes, without breaking one of them. Fortunately the
Christmas presents were placed so far from the window that the shot did
not reach the spot. Nobody can guess who was the perpetrator of this
horrid act.
Don Miguel's arrival makes London alive. To-night there was a soirée at
the Duke of Clarence's, and to-morrow there will be a great ball at Lady
K----'s. The Prince seems to be a universal favourite; and now that he
is more at home here, has something very calm and gentleman-like in his
'tournure;' though it strikes me that in the back-ground, behind his
great affability, lurks more than one 'arrière pensée.' Portuguese
etiquette is so rigorous, that our good Marquis P---- is obliged to
kneel down every morning when he first sees the Prince.
_Jan. 3rd._
I pass over yesterday's fête at Prince E----'s to tell you about this
evening's pantomime, which Don Miguel honoured with his presence. He was
in a more awkward predicament than the late Elector of Hessen Cassel at
Berlin, when, at the opening chorus of "Long life to the Amazon Queen,"
he got up and returned thanks.
The people here, to whom Don Miguel had been represented as a ferocious
tyrant, and who saw the formidable monster appear in the shape of a
pretty young fellow, have passed from aversion to fondness, and receive
the Prince everywhere with enthusiasm. So it happened to-day in the
theatre: Don Miguel immediately rose with his Portuguese and English
suite, and returned thanks most courteously. Shortly after the curtain
drew up, and now arose a fresh violent clapping at the beautiful
scenery. Again Don Miguel rose and bowed his thanks: surprised and
somewhat perplexed, the audience, however, overlooked the mistake, and
greeted him with fresh cheers. But now appeared the favourite buffoon,
in the person of a great ourang outang, with all the suppleness of
Mazurier. Louder than ever resounded the enthusiastic applause; and
again Don Miguel arose and bowed his thanks. This time, however, the
compliment was only answered by a hearty laugh; and one of his English
attendants, Lord M---- C----, without ceremony seized the Infant by the
arm and motioned to him to resume his seat. No doubt, however, Don
Miguel and the favourite actor will long remain involuntarily associated
in the public mind.
_Jan. 6th._
We float in a sea of fêtes. Yesterday the beautiful Marchioness gave
her's; to-day was the admired Princess L----'s, which lasted till six
o'clock. People are busied from morning till night in amusing the
Prince. It is agreeable enough to be this privileged sort of person,
whom the highest and the lowest, the wisest and the silliest, are all
doing their utmost to please.
In the midst of this 'trouble' I received another letter from you
through L----, and rejoiced in the hundred-thousandth assurance of your
love, an assurance of which I shall certainly not be tired before the
millionth, and shall then exclaim, 'L'appétit vient en mangeant!' Just
as little tired, it seems, are people here with these fêtes. While the
dark clouds are gathering heavier and heavier around their horizon, our
diplomates dance and dine, and meet the threatening storm with jests and
laughter; and the great and the elevated are mingled with the vulgar and
the common place, as in Shakespeare's faithful mirrors of life.
My own spirits are favourably excited by all this, and my mind is in a
healthy and vigorous state. My masculine soul (for I have a feminine one
of my own, besides yours, which belongs to me) is just now 'du jour;'
and when that is the case, I always feel more free and independent, and
less sensitive to external influences. This state of mind is quite the
right one for a residence here, for Englishmen are like their
flints,--cold, angular, and furnished with cutting edges; but the steel
succeeds in striking live sparks out of them, thus producing light by a
friendly antagonism.
Generally speaking, I am too indolent, or rather, too little excited by
them, to be either willing or able to act as steel to any of the
individuals who surround me; but I have, at least, opposed to their
pride still greater pride, and thus softened some and repulsed others.
Both were just what I wished; for the craniologist said of me very
truly, that I was endowed with a strong tendency to creativeness; and
such minds can only love those which act with the same elective
affinities as themselves; or those which, in a subordinate station, are
useful instruments on which to play the melodies of their own
composition. All others are either opposite to, or remote from them.
_Jan. 11th._
The last party given in honour of Don Miguel took place to-night at the
Dutch Ambassador's, to which little incident one might hang all sorts of
interesting historical reminiscences. Both Portugal and Holland, though
so small in territorial extent, were once great powers. The one took the
road of freedom, the other that of slavery, and yet both are become
equally insignificant; nor does their internal prosperity and happiness
seem very greatly to differ. But I will leave these considerations, and
substitute for them a few words in praise of the amiable Ambassadress,
whose French vivacity has not yet given place to the melancholy,
ponderous follies of English fashion. Her house, too, is one of the few
which one may visit in an evening in the Continental fashion, uninvited,
and be sure to find _conversation_. When Madame de F---- was living in
Tournay before her marriage, my beloved 'chef,' the old Grand Duke of
W----, lived in her parents' house for some time during the war of
deliverance,[77] and used jestingly to call the charming daughter his
favourite aide-de-camp. As I had filled that post, I had to plead a sort
of comradeship, an honour I am the less disposed to forego my claim to,
as her husband is a very agreeable man, equally distinguished for the
goodness of his heart and the soundness of his head.
I ate a German dinner to-day at Count Münster's, who from time to time
regales us with a wild Hanoverian. To-day it was a noble boar, with that
royal sauce invented by George the Fourth, of which it is written in the
Almanac des Gourmands, 'qu'avec une telle sauce on mangérait son père.'
Over and above this delicacy, we were treated with a good anecdote by
Sir Walter Scott. He said he one day met an Irish beggar in the street,
who asked him for six-pence; Sir Walter could not find one, and at last
gave him a shilling, saying, with a laugh, "But mind now, you owe me
six-pence." "Och, sure enough!" said the beggar, "and God grant you may
live till I pay you."
Before I went to bed I read over your last letter again. You have
entered completely into my view of the character of Macbeth, and the few
words you say about it and about the performance of our actors are
masterly. It is strange, but true, that acting is every where
degenerated. Surely this lies in the selfish, mechanical, unpoetical
spirit of our times.
Equally true is your remark on the high society of B----; that the wit,
and even the learning, which display themselves so ostentatiously there
have nothing of that good-humoured attaching character which is
necessary to give to both the true social charm. The warm heart's pulse
is wanting in that arid soil;--the people can't help it:--and when they
hunt after Fancy, she always appears to them, as she did to Hofmann, in
the form of a horrible lay-figure, or of a spectre. Your friend, who
does not fare much better, was also, unhappily, born in the sand: but I
think the metallic exhalations which issued from the shafts, the flaming
breath of the gnomes from beneath, the dark solitude of the pine-forests
above, and the whisper of the Dryads from amid their thick branches,
surrounded his cradle, and shed over the poor child some foreign and
beneficent influences.
The 'parforce' members of the new Parforce hunt[78] made me laugh
heartily. They are the best contrast to the volunteers of the Landwehr.
I am myself a sincere advocate of the latter, because I love our King
from my heart; and to serve him is not only a duty, but a real
enjoyment, in my estimation. When I return, therefore, I shall very
willingly suffer 'une douce violence,' and accompany the 'parforce'
hunt, were it only from respect and attachment to the elegant and
amiable Prince who is the leader of it. The field horsemanship, almost
forgotten among us, will thus be revived; and England daily teaches me,
that habit and amusements connected with danger and hardship have a very
favourable effect on the youth of a nation, and consequently on its
whole character.
_January 14th._
I drove into the City this morning with Count B---- and a son of the
celebrated Madame Tallien, to see the India House, where there are many
remarkable curiosities. Among them is Tippoo Saib's dream-book, in which
he daily wrote his dreams and their interpretation with his own hand,
and to which he, like Wallenstein, might mainly ascribe his fall. His
armour, a part of his golden throne, and an odd sort of barrel-organ are
also preserved here. The latter is concealed in the belly of a very well
represented metal tiger, of natural colours and size. Under the tiger
lies an Englishman in scarlet uniform, whom he is tearing to pieces; and
by turning the handle, the cries and moans of a man in the agonies of
death, terrifically interspersed with the roaring and growling of the
tiger, are imitated with great truth. This is a highly characteristic
instrument, and greatly assists our judgment of that formidable foe of
the English, who took the stripes of the tiger as his coat of arms, and
was wont to say that he would rather live one day as a tiger going out
to seek his prey, than a century as a quiet grazing sheep.
Daniel's magnificent work on the celebrated temple of Ellora, hewn in
the solid rock, interested me uncommonly. The age of these majestic
remains is completely unknown. It is highly curious, and in full
conformity with Merkel's hypothesis, that the most ancient civilization
of the earth originated with the negro races, that the statue of the
deity in the sanctuary of the oldest temple of Buddha, distinctly
exhibits the peculiar features and woolly hair of a negro. A large stone
from the ruins of Persepolis, entirely covered with the yet-undeciphered
arrow-writing; large Chinese paintings; huge Chinese lanterns; a very
large plan of the city of Calcutta, and some beautiful Persian
illuminated manuscripts, are among the greatest curiosities of this
collection. We then visited the warehouses, where you may buy all sorts
of Indian goods uncommonly cheap, provided you ship them immediately for
the Continent, in which case they pay no duty to the Government. Shawls,
which with us would cost at least a hundred louis d'ors, are here to be
bought in abundance for forty. The most beautiful I ever saw, and of a
fineness and magnificence which would make it a most enviable possession
in the eyes of our ladies, was only a hundred and fifty guineas: but
shawls are not much worn in England, and are thought little of; so that
nearly all these are sent abroad.
_January 16th._
The new steam-carriage is completed, and goes five miles in half an hour
on trial in the Regent's park. But there was something to repair every
moment. I was one of the first of the curious who tried it; but found
the smell of oiled iron, which makes steam-boats so unpleasant, far more
insufferable here. Stranger still is another vehicle to which I
yesterday entrusted my person. It is nothing less than a carriage drawn
by a kite,--and what's more, a paper kite very like those which children
fly. This is the invention of a schoolmaster, who is so skilful in the
guidance of his vehicle, that he can get on very fairly with a half
wind, but with a completely fair one and on good road, he goes an
English mile in three-quarters of a minute. The sensation is very
agreeable, for you glide over the little unevennesses of the road as if
carried over them. The inventor proposes to traverse the African deserts
in this manner, and with this view has contrived a place behind, in
which a poney stands, like a footman, and in case of a calm can be
harnessed in! What is to be done for forage, indeed, is not thoroughly
clear, but the schoolmaster reckons upon regular trade winds in those
regions. As a country diversion, the invention is, at all events,
greatly to be recommended; and I therefore send you herewith a
'brochure' announcing it, with explanatory plates, after which you can
commission some amateur among your own schoolmasters to make a similar
attempt.
I devoted the evening to a pantomime, the strange extravagance of which
was sustained by such admirable scenery and machinery, that you could
think yourself in fairy-land, without any great effort. Such pretty
nonsense is delightful. For instance, an immeasurable rushy bog in the
kingdom of the Frogs, the inhabitants of which are most accurately
represented by clever actors; and a temple of glow-worms, which in
wildness of fancy, and wonderful brilliancy, surpasses any Chinese
firework.
_Brighton, Jan. 23rd._
Fashion is a great tyrant; and however clearly I see this, I suffer
myself to be ruled by her as others are. She led me hither a few days
ago, to the agreeable Miss J----, the discreet Lady L----, the charming
F----, &c. &c.
I am already wearied again with balls and dinners, and have resumed my
coquetry with the sea, the only poetical object in this prosaic place. I
walked just now, after leaving a 'rout' at the further end of the town,
for half an hour on its shore, amid the thundering and foaming of the
coming tide. The stars looked down in all their brightness; eternal
repose reigned above; and wild tumult and ceaseless agitation
below;--heaven and earth in their truest emblems. How beautiful, how
beneficent, how fearful, how perturbing, is this universe!--this
universe, whose beginning and end we know not; whose extent is
illimitable; before whose infinite series, on every side, even Fancy
sinks to earth, veiling herself with reverential awe. Ah, my dear Julia!
Love alone finds an exit from this labyrinth. Does not Göthe, too, say,
"Glücklich allein ist die Seele die liebt!"
_Jan. 24th._
We have had a fine day's hunting here. The weather was remarkably clear
and sunny, and at least a hundred red coats took the field. Such a sight
is certainly full of interest; the many fine horses; the elegantly
dressed huntsmen; fifty or sixty beautiful hounds following Reynard over
stock and stone; the wild mounted troop behind; the rapid change of wood
and hill and valley; the cries and shouts--it is a miniature war.
The country here is very hilly, and at one time the hounds ran up so
steep and long a hill, that most of the horses were unable to follow
them, and those that did, panted like the bellows of a smithy. But when
we had once reached the top, the 'coup d'oeil' was glorious; you
looked down upon the whole, from the fox to the last straggler, all in
full movement, with one glance; and besides that, over a rich valley to
the left, which extends to London, and to the right over the sea
gleaming like a mirror beneath the bright sun.
The first fox we took; the second reached Malapartus[79] in safety, and
thus escaped his pursuers. Almost all these hunts are maintained by
subscription. The pack here, for instance, consisted of eighty dogs and
three huntsmen, with their nine horses, costs 1,050_l._ a year, which is
divided among five-and-twenty subscribers. Any man who has a mind may
ride with them. Thus it costs each subscriber not more than forty-two
pounds a year. The shares, however, are by no means equally divided. The
rich give much, the poor little, according to their means. Some give as
much as two hundred a year, some not above ten; and I think this scheme
would be a very good one to introduce into Germany, especially for poor
men. The most striking thing, however, in the whole business, to German
eyes, is the sight of the black-coated parsons, flying over hedge and
ditch. I am told they often go to the church, ready booted and spurred,
with the hunting-whip in their hands, throw on the surplice, marry,
christen, or bury, with all conceivable velocity, jump on their horses
at the church-door, and off--tally-ho! They told me of a famous clerical
fox-hunter, who always carried a tame fox in his pocket, that if they
did not happen to find one, they might be sure of a run. The animal was
so well trained that he amused the hounds for a time; and when he was
tired of running, took refuge in his inviolable retreat--which was no
other than the altar of the parish church. There was a hole broken for
him in the church wall, and a comfortable bed made under the steps. This
is right English religion.
_Feb. 6th._
I caught a cold which brought on a violent nervous fever. This has
confined me to my bed for a fortnight, and weakened me to an
extraordinary degree. It has not been wholly unattended with danger; but
my physician assures me that is quite past; therefore do not be alarmed.
Strange that, in a complaint so exhausting, one should be so indifferent
to the thought of death! It appears to us only like rest and slumber;
and I fervently wish myself such a slow and gradual approach of my
dissolution from the body, whenever my time comes. As one that delights
in observing, I would fain, so to say, see and feel myself die, as far
as that is possible; that is, watch my own sensations and thoughts with
full possession of my faculties, and thus taste existence up to the very
last moment. A sudden death appears to me something vulgar,--animal; a
slow one alone, with perfect consciousness of its approach, refined,
noble,--human. I hope moreover to die very tranquilly; for although I
have never attained to sanctity of life, I have held fast to the Loving
and the Good, and have loved mankind, though not perhaps many individual
men. Thus, though not yet ripe for heaven, I wish extremely, according
to my doctrine of metempsychosis, to become once more an inhabitant of
this beloved earth. The planet is beautiful and interesting enough to
like to rove about in it in ever-renewed human shape. But if it be
ordered otherwise, I am content. From God and his universe we cannot be
cut off; and it is not probable that we shall become more foolish or
more wicked; but rather, wiser and better.
The sting of death to me would be the thought of your sorrow; and yet
perhaps, without the certainty of your love I could not die so happy and
resigned:--it is so sweet a feeling in death, that we leave some one
behind who will cherish our memory with tenderness, and in and with whom
we shall live, so long as his eyes remain open to the light. Is this
selfishness?
As we are talking of dying, I must mention a melancholy incident. Do you
remember a Scottish chieftain, of whom I told you during my last visit
to Brighton?--a somewhat fantastic, but powerful and original
Highlander. In the full pride of manly strength he has ceased to live.
He was on board a steamboat with his two daughters, and shortly before
landing received such a blow on the head from one of the yards, that he
fell into a fit of delirium on the spot, sprang into the sea, and swam
to shore, where he soon after expired. This end has a certain kindred
tragic character with the history of an ancestor he told me of with such
pride, to which he traced the origin of his arms--a bloody hand on a
field azure.--This is the tradition:
Two brothers who were engaged in an expedition against some Scottish
island had entered into an agreement, that he who should first touch the
land with flesh and blood (a Scotch expression) should remain undisputed
lord of it. Approaching the shore with all the force with which they
could ply their oars, they came to a part where the projecting rocks
barred all nearer approach; and both brothers, with their followers,
dashed into the sea to swim to the island. As the elder saw that the
younger was getting before him, he drew his short sword, laid his left
hand on a point of rock, cut it off with one stroke, took it up by the
fingers and threw it bleeding, past his brother on the shore: "God is my
witness," cried he, "that my flesh and blood have first touched this
land." And thus was he king of the island, which his descendants ruled
for centuries with unlimited sway.
_Feb. 8th._
The doctor finds me very patient--Good God! I have been taught
patience--and to be just, adversity is an admirable school for the
spirit. Adversity, however, if we look deep enough, arises only from
these faults in us, which are corrected by it; and we may
unconditionally affirm, that if men began and persevered in an
undeviating course of reasonable and virtuous conduct, they would
scarcely know suffering:--but their pleasures must then become so subtle
and ethereal, that they would set but little value on any thing earthly.
No more dinners,--at which to get indigestions. No more fame,--which
they hunt after with such delighted vanity: no more of love's sweet and
perilous risks: no pomp or show for the sake of surpassing others: it
would be at last--God forgive me for saying so!--a very humdrum life--a
dead calm, under an outward show of perfection. The essence of life, on
the contrary, is motion and contrast. It would therefore be the greatest
derangement and annoyance if we were all to become perfectly reasonable.
But I don't think the danger very pressing.--You see my illness has not
altered me: I should not have told you anything about it, but that this
letter must go before I am quite recovered. You may, however, read it
with perfect tranquillity of mind, and be assured that I mean to enjoy
everything that a benevolent Creator has bestowed upon us, to my very
latest breath; whether halfpence, or guineas; houses of cards, or
palaces; soap-bubbles, or rank and dignities,--as time and circumstance
present them;--and at last even death itself, and whatever here or
elsewhere may follow it. The severer virtues just show their beautiful
roots. Thus, for instance, I really enjoy my present temperance; I feel
an ethereal lightness from it, and am more elevated than usual above all
that is animal. Other _égarements_ are wholly out of the question; and
all this gives me a foretaste of that purer pleasure to come--old age.
For in certain things--let us but confess it frankly and freely--the
wicked Frenchman is half in the right:--'que c'est le vice qui nous
quitte, et bien rarement nous qui quittons le vice.'
_Feb. 9th._
I never had a physician who was so kind--to the apothecary;--two doses a
day. I live upon nothing else; but, as I am unhappily ill in earnest, I
take what is sent me with great resignation. I miss terribly such a
nurse as you are; and my dry, hard landlady, who has frequently offered
her services very civilly, would be a poor substitute. Meanwhile I read
a great deal, and am in very good spirits. If I were disposed to give
myself up to melancholy self-tormentings, I could find negative as well
as positive grounds for them. Now that I am confined to the house, the
weather is uniformly most beautiful: but as I have set the hands of my
spiritual watch in a quite other direction, I am on the contrary, very
thankful to see the bright sun daily;--very thankful that, spite of his
glory and majesty, he disdains not to warm my room from early morning;
to greet me all day with friendly beams, which clothe everything in a
robe of gold; and in the evening, that he takes the trouble to paint the
wildest pictures in the clouds that hang over the sea, deep blue,
flaming amber, or purple,--for me, poor invalid! who sit wrapt up at a
large window: and at length, when taking leave, shows himself in such
splendour, that the remembrance of it long afterwards robs the dusky
shades of night of that gloomy impression which they are wont to leave
on the spirit of the solitary and the suffering. And thus has everything
two sides. There is nothing at which the fool may not fall into despair,
or the wise man feel satisfaction and enjoyment.
Feb. 10th.
A letter from you always causes me the greatest delight, as you know;
but how much more in my present state! Judge, therefore, with what
delight yours was received to-day.* * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
F---- is very wrong to refuse what was offered to him. It were madness
for a shipwrecked man, struggling with the waves and nearly exhausted,
to disdain a fishing-boat which presented itself to save him, that he
might wait for a three-decker. It is certainly possible that such an one
is already coming round that point; and at the moment when the boat has
borne him away to some meaner destination, may heave in sight with all
her canvass set. But we are not omniscient; we must treat the chances
which the concatenation of events offers us, according to probability,
not to possibility.
My presents please you, then? Now God bless them! Little pleasures are
as good as great ones; and we ought diligently to study the art of
creating to ourselves such, far oftener than we do; there is abundance
of cheap materials for the purpose: but no superstition must
intrude--like that which you express about the scissars. Good Julia, the
scissars are not yet invented which can cut our love;--they must be
crab-like, and with a backward action cut away all memory of the past.
Now I must scold you for another thing. To what end did I send you all
that beautiful coloured 'blotting-paper,' if you relapse into the horrid
fashion of strewing sand on your paper, which is as unknown in England
as sanded floors? Several ounces of this ingredient in your
correspondence flew in my face when I opened your letter. Will you, too,
throw dust[80] in my eyes, dear Julia? and has Jeremiah brought you a
new serious sand-box for the purpose from B----?
I am very industrious, and employ my leisure in putting in order several
volumes of my life-atlas. The whole day long I arrange, cut, write, (for
you know there's a commentary to every picture)--in short all that a
poor sick man can do to pass time. Behold, with your mind's eye, twenty
folio volumes of the classic work standing in our library, and
ourselves, grown old and bowed, sitting before them, rather doting, but
still triumphing in the glorious old times. Young shot-up things are
laughing by stealth behind our backs: flying out and in; and when one of
them asks "What are the old people about?" another answers, "O! they are
sitting poring over their picture-bible, and have no eyes nor ears for
anything else." Now this is what I should like to live to see, and it
always seems to me as if it must come to this. What lies between,
however--that indeed God only knows.
Bellows now cut a great figure in the newspapers. An ass, poisoned by
way of experiment, was restored to life by continual blowing into his
lungs; and the Houses of Parliament are going to be furnished with pure
air during the whole sessions by means of a great pair of bellows. As an
infallible remedy against suffocation, nothing more is necessary than to
hold the patient by the nose, and blow common atmospheric air into his
lungs, with the bellows out of the chimney corner. There will therefore
be a greater number of puffed-up people in England now than ever.
_Feb. 12th._
My illness has hindered me from going to Scotland, for which I had
prepared every thing, and received many invitations; and now the
expected arrival of W---- and the beginning of the season will keep me
in London. To-day for the first time my doctor let me go out: and I took
my way to Stranmore Park, which is at no great distance, that I might
enjoy fresh air and the pleasure of a romantic walk. I was, however, not
permitted to enter the garden, though I sent in my card. We are more
liberal, indeed,--but this stern repulsiveness has its advantages:--it
gives more value both to the thing itself, and to the permission to see
it, when you do obtain it. 'A propos,' this reminds me of your new
steward. It is desirable for us to keep him; nevertheless I beg you to
behave to him a little as the lady of Stranmore did to me. Don't be too
'empressée' in your kindness; that, if he deserves it, you may leave
yourself the power of increasing it. Be kind, but with dignity; always
shading off the superior station which you must necessarily maintain
with regard to him. Don't try to attach him by indulgence or over-civil
behaviour, but by confidence, which does him honour; and also by
substantial advantages, which in the end never fail to have their effect
upon people, let them say, or even think, as they will. But you must
address yourself no less to his ambition: keep it always awake by
discreet concessions, by gratitude for proofs of zeal, and no less by
gentle reproof whenever you think it necessary; that he may see you have
_a judgment_. As an honourable man, he will then not fail to conduct our
affairs with the same interest as if they were his own. Lastly, take
care not to fatigue him, in his province of supervision, with details:
don't attempt to exercise control over him in every trifle, and keep
vigilant watch to support his authority over those under him, no less
than your own over himself;--in those cases only where you see reason to
fear that something important is amiss, do not delay an instant to
require a full explanation. In very weighty cases that admit of delay,
you will of course consult me. Herewith does Polonius conclude his
exhortations.
_Feb. 15th._
The short flight was premature, for it did not agree with me. The
charming weather, too, is become horrible. A snow-storm now flogs the
sea under my windows, so that it foams and roars again for rage, and its
billows dash over the high pier up to the houses.
In the midst of this thunder I yesterday began to write my memoirs, and
finished eight sheets, which I send you herewith.
I have also taken advantage of this time to go through Lesage's
historical Atlas again; and I cannot say that during my whole illness I
ever felt a moment's ennui. Indeed the perfect repose and passionless
calm of such a period refreshes my soul. My body will soon be restored
also; and then, as soon as the sky clears a little, I think to return
once more to the haunts of men. A----,[81] to whom I sent your letter,
desires her best love to you. From her great intimacy with the future
Queen, she is treated quite like a 'Princesse du Sang.' She begins to
feel her own importance a little; her former shy, timid 'tournure' is
altered much to her advantage, and she has learnt to assume a certain
air without losing her affability. The sun of fortune and favour changes
a human being, as the sun of heaven does a plant which faded in
darkness, and now raises its drooping head in his bright beams, and
penetrated by the genial warmth opens fragrant blossoms to the light.
We, dear Julia, still lie in the cellar, like hyacinth roots; but the
gardener can place us in a more favourable soil and brighter sun in the
spring--if it please him.
_Feb. 20th._
I have been out--and behind every thing is become strange wherever I
went. My acquaintances were almost all gone, and in the houses and
promenades new faces met me. The bare country alone I found in its
former state, except that the green fields were manured--with
oystershells. Miss ----, a not very young, but rich and 'agreeable' lady,
told me that the papers here had spoken of me as lying at the point of
death, while the London 'Morning Post' introduced me as dancing at
Almack's, which certainly looks rather spectral. This good-natured
Miss ---- is still full of acknowledgments for a ticket I once got her
for Almack's, and played and sang her thanks to me rather more than the
weak state of my nerves could bear. I took my leave, but soon fell into
the hands of two other Philomels who are also belated here.
As soon as my strength is quite restored I shall return to London, and
can now, with a good conscience, and without fear of causing you
anxiety, despatch this long letter.