and Lord Kenyon; they abuse each other bitterly in their different
_courts_, publicly and separately. On the night of the debate upon
the Divorce Bill, in favour of which the lawyers are very eager, Lord
Carlisle, in adverting to the various arguments, said that lawyers
were from their sedentary occupations and retired habits incapable
of judging the offences and punishments of the upper classes, and he
applied to the corps of lawyers the term of ‘legal recluses.’ Ld.
Eldon, who officiated for the Chancellor, took up the expression and
was indignant at its being applied to the enlightened body who from
their employment in human affairs were generally supposed to understand
mankind. The Bishop of Rochester was furious, and said many cutting
things to Ld. Carlisle, such as, he supposed that he would have the
offence decided upon by those only who had committed, and in a marked
manner showed he thought Ld. C. in that case entitled to judge.
The next day, Ld. Kenyon, in the Court of King’s Bench, in summing
up a charge to the jury, contrived to introduce the expression of
‘cloistered recluses’ as having been used in the H. of Lds., and again
declared his knowledge of human life to be equal to his wishes, and
thanked his God he had not the knowledge of it which was acquired by
‘titled adulterers at Newmarket, in Bond Street, and in the Stews.’ Ld.
C. has taken notice of this reference to his speech in Parliament as
unparliamentary, and means to move some resolution against the printer.
He has been with Ld. Holland this morning, who has advised him to adopt
another mode, and furnished him with the words; accordingly he will
follow his advice.
_9th June._--Erskine came unexpectedly to dinner yesterday. He is,
as I could not help telling him, by far the most extraordinary man I
ever met with. An incomprehensible compound of wit, ability, absurdity,
folly, vanity, and sagacity. He repeated to me some lines he had
written in court upon Serjeant Lens,[117] who was examining a witness
with some pertinacity:--
The Lenses that common opticians have
Are plano convex, or plano concave;
But the Lens of the law being formed to perplex,
At no time is plain, but concave and convex;
Convex his own case to enlarge and expound,
Concave his opponents t’obscure and confound.
He can pun in rhyme, but to harmony of verse he has no pretence. He
wrote the following epigram upon a very parsimonious lady, a Mrs.
Wharton, when at Tunbridge:--
Oft has my soul, puft up with pride,
The truth of sacred writ denied,
And to myself I still have said,
‘Sure mankind ne’er of dust was made;’
Till thou, dear Peg, revers’d my creed
And showed me we were dust indeed.
[Sidenote: BILL AGAINST PUBLIC DEBTORS]
The clause in Abbot’s Bill was not designed by him to have a
retrospective operation upon those who have balances in bond due to
Governt., but it was worded with such ambiguity that it threw persons
so circumstanced into the power of the Auditors of the Exchequer. Ld.
H. begged some confidential friends to attend to get it otherwise
worded, and employed Adam as counsel to get Abbot and Baker to alter
it. Tierney promised zeal and attention; Sheridan undertook it warmly.
When the day came I grew afraid of Tierney’s candour, and thought he
might yield to Abbot’s assurance of the harmlessness of the words;
for Tierney would sacrifice the interests of anybody to obtain the
occasional popularity of conciliating an opponent. I therefore enjoined
Mr. Moore to rely _solely_ upon Sheridan, who tho’ _never_ punctual and
not famously steady, yet would, I was persuaded, exert himself where he
thought his services material. I was right. Tierney acquiesced in all
Abbot alleged in behalf of the clause, and it was just going to pass
into the Bill, when Sheridan arrived breathless from haste, examined
the words, declared the sentence neither grammar, logic, or sense, and
employed near two hours to convince the Committee that the ambiguous
words should be expunged. They were so. The difference lay between
‘_shall have been declared_,’ and ‘_shall be_.’ I provoked Tierney
by telling him before Whitbread, that my instructions to Moore were
to shun the honest, candid man, as he would never help a friend at a
pinch, too timid to essentially serve, too timid to commit himself by
an opinion against any man, were the grounds not public and popular.
Interest commences from the enacting of this Bill, thus the interest
cannot be reserved as usual to make a fund, and thus pay off the whole
of the debt in a few years without touching us. But the principle is
just, and nothing can be said against it with any decorum: and as
it now stands it is certainly an expense, yet compared to what it
_might_ have been I am satisfied.
_11th June._--D. of Bedford dined with us, and gave an account of the
debate last night. Ld. Carlisle was to have made his motion against
Kenyon, but a shuffling sort of compromise made it go off tamely;
he agreed to withdraw it if Grenville desired it. A languid, half
shabby business. The Duke spoke. It is comical how eagerly these
seceding gentlemen embrace every opportunity of speaking; on the most
unimportant subjects unconnected with politics they attend, and say
their say. Last night the Divorce Bill was thrown out in the Commons:
not even admitted into a Committee. The mortification of its rejection
_thus_ will be double to Ld. Auckland; such marked contempt. Sheridan
made an admirable speech, and did not mar the effect of it by too much
wit; his matter was excellent. Ld. H. supplied him. At his request he
wrote a little treatise which is full of sound reason and practical
good sense. I have a copy of it.
Ld. H.’s epigrams on Horsley[118] were lying upon my table; Ld. G.
Leveson, in rummaging over the papers upon it, found them and took
them. Ld. H. being jokingly angry, wrote this:--
Though in private my Muse in a profligate humour
Her nakedness never withheld from your view,
Yet she liked not that all who at tea in the room are
Should have the same privilege too, and would you?
The following he said would suit ----, an impotent husband, to his
wife:--
As women wish to be who love their lords
You wish to be, and ask why it delayed is.
Because I’m not (what need of many words),
As husbands ought to be that love their ladies!
[Illustration:
_Louis Gauffier, pinx._ _Emery Walker Ph.sc._
_Henrietta, third Countess of Bessborough_]
[Sidenote: CHIRAC]
Dumont mentioned a curious anecdote of Chirac, the celebrated physician
of Louis XIV.,[119] told to him by Condorcet. At 84 years old he
fell into a violent illness, which was his last. He lay for two days in
a state of insensibility; he suddenly jumped up and sat upright in his
bed, felt the pulse of his left hand with his right, shook his head,
and in a loud voice cried, ‘On m’a appelé trop tard, le malade est
mourant,’ He immediately fell back, verified his own prediction, and
expired. He was the man roused in the night to attend a dying Cardinal,
a person of very profligate life and infamous character. To hasten the
physician, the messenger said, ‘Venez donc, il souffre comme un damné.’
‘Comment déjà?’--a bitter sarcasm in one word. He was present at a
dispute upon the Resurrection of Christ; some thought it was impossible
that he should have arisen after death. Chirac only said, ‘Si il était
mort de ma façon,’ implying without levity, his own incredulity.
We have had a consultation with three lawyers, Piggott, Erskine, and
Richards, upon the propriety of taking out a licence, or getting an
Act of Parliament for my name, as it is particularly enjoined by my
grandfather’s will that the person to whom the estate goes by descent
should bear his name. There is some nicety in ye question, because,
tho’ I am only just come into the profits of it, yet I was virtually
possessed of it when that unhappy man compelled me to renounce it to
him, and it may lead to an examination as to our signatures. This would
be troublesome, as out of accommodation to him I signed two bonds
without the name of Vassall. Ld. H. has only a marital dominion over
it, and cannot be subject to forfeiture. Richards and Erskine think
the title of honour supersedes all, and that no mischief has been yet
incurred. It is not yet decided. Ld. H. went yesterday to Plummer’s.
I wrote to Ld. Ossory, and begged him to accompany him--a proposal
certain of pleasing, not only as it showed confidence and attention,
but that it gratified his curiosity.
It appears that the average of the net produce, deducting outfit,
annuities, mortgage, jointure, insurance, and, in short, every
expenditure, is within a hundred or two of six thousand pr. anm., an
ample acquisition, but as yet must not be anticipated or enjoyed. Sir
G. W. has left property, however, to answer all debts. Webby must have
1000_l._ pr. ann. certain; that accumulating for ten years and
half will be something. Henry and Harriet five thousand each.
Canning is immediately to be married to Miss Scott;[120] she has an
immense fortune. He has just been made a Privy Councillor and Joint
Paymaster; if ever a man was born with a silver spoon in his mouth,
surely it was him.
Ld. H. was telling us to-day of the whimsical effect produced by a
droll manner of compressing the substance of a man’s speech. A Mr.
Robson, who is neither witty nor clever by-the-way, gave his whole
attention to one of Windham’s speeches; he did not listen to the
other debating, and when it came to voting he rose and said that ‘The
Honourable Gentleman had declared that we were not fighting _for_
the Restoration of the Bourbons, but that we _should_ fight till
they were restored, therefore he should give his vote against him.’
This done with gravity would get the laugh on his side, and provokingly
perplex his adversary.
[Sidenote: AN UNJUST WILL]
Erskine told us a singular cause that he was called to at Uxbridge.
It was to decide upon a will supposed to have been made whilst the
testator was under the influence of some morbid, mad affection of the
mind. He was the elder brother of a man with whom he had lived in the
closest habits of friendship, and to whom he was sincerely attached.
One day he came home heated and fatigued, complained of the colic, and
was advised by his brother to go to bed and drink warm rum and water.
He followed his advice, but whether the disease was naturally fever,
or that the rum created it, is not known; but the effect was raging
madness, during which he furiously inveighed against his brother for
having poisoned him in the drink. The frenzy continued, and he was
put under a mad doctor. In a few months he recovered his reason to
all intents and purposes, acted as a magistrate, fulfilled all the
functions of his station, gave law opinions, and betrayed no tokens of
insanity. But some years after when he died, it was found by the will
that he had excluded his brother, upon the old accusation of his having
administered poison to him. It came out that the man, in favour of whom
the younger brother had been disinherited, used to listen and rather
encourage his rhapsodies. Erskine substantiated the will, but made the
heir by will share alike with the lawful heir.
This story of rational madness reminded Ld. H. of one which Fontana
was fond of telling, because it squares with the common definition
of madness, and proves that a man may reason logically upon false
premises. A very intelligent Jesuit went mad, and his predominating
madness was that he believed himself to be a Cardinal. He was a loss
to their community, and being a very subtle logician two or three of
the cleverest of the Order undertook to argue with him, and convince by
reason that he laboured under an illusion, which he might dissipate by
force of mind. They asked him several questions as to the ceremonies
necessary to be undergone previous to the instalment of a man in the
College of Cardinals, to all of which he pleaded ignorance. ‘Why
then,’ said one, ‘how can you imagine yourself to be a Cardinal?’ He
replied, ‘I tell you that I am a Cardinal, and if you do not believe me
such when I assure so, you must suppose me to be mad, and if I am mad,
how can you be so mad as to try to convince by reason one who in that
case must be labouring under an alienation of it?’ This syllogism posed
the Reverend Brothers.
Wm. Lamb is returned from Glasgow quite bitten with a Scotch mania.
He thinks the Scotch have outdone in moral philosophy and ethics all
who have gone before them. To use his own expression, ‘They have gone
far beyond Locke and Paley,’ ‘Yes,’ replied Ld. H., ‘so far, that they
are unintelligible,’ He was under Professor Millar,[121] a friend of
Ld. Lauderdale’s, a man who has written upon Governt., and who is the
greatest enemy of all _belles lettres_ and poetry; the latter he
calls a mere jingle which proves no facts. Lamb is very clever and
pleasing, and will improve when he gets out of his love for singularity.
[Sidenote: LORD HENRY PETTY]
Ld. Henry Petty unites to a sound, strong understanding a pleasant
vein of cheerful humour, with talents and advantages far beyond his
years. His simplicity and unassuming manner is the most winning of his
qualifications. His character is very like Ld. H.’s, only he has less
playfulness of imagination, and less vivacity; his turn of mind is
rather serious, but in temper, artlessness, and integrity they are more
nearly allied even than by blood. Ld. Lansdown idolises him, and with
pleasure I perceive that his tenderness is bestowed upon an object
that will reward him with interest; poor old man, he wants filial
comfort.[122]
Bonaparte in his passage through Switzerland went to Coppet to see
Necker; some imagine that he proposed to him to accept the post of
Minister of Finance. Madame de Staël greeted the hero, and made a
political tirade for full twenty minutes; when she ceased she expected
a complimentary eulogism, all he said was, ‘Madame, a-t-elle nourri ses
enfants?’ A cutting rebuke.[123]
Dumont one evening read to us Rousseau’s description, in his
_Promenades solitaires_, of the Isle de St. Pierre, in which he
describes the felicity he enjoyed and his regrets at having quitted his
delicious retirement. Ld. H., who is no admirer of Rousseau in any way,
grew tired, and wrote this:--
Rousseau was so charmed in his island St. Pierre
With walking and rowing about;
I agree with him heartily when he was there
’Twas a pity he ever came out.
Ld. H. told me this morning a piece of slyness of the Jacobinical
party towards him. About two years ago a man of the name of Gurney, a
solicitor, on behalf of the manufacturers entreated Ld. H. to speak
against a Bill, which involved their interests, then brought before
Parliament. It was entitled, a Bill to prevent unlawful combination
among the workmen. He spoke, and distinguished himself; his speech
was printed at Manchester and Liverpool, and distributed among the
manufacturers. It seems Burdett and Ld. Stanhope[124] grew jealous of
his popularity among _their_ friends, and have now contrived to
get the petitions given to them, and have, now that resistance to it
is become a little popular, espoused the cause. Ld. Stanhope told Ld.
H. that he had made himself ‘many friends among the most valuable part
of the community.’ Ld. H. of course does not care a straw upon the
occasion one way or the other; it only makes him laugh.
Ld. Thanet quitted his captivity on Monday last; he is delighted at
regaining his freedom, but a little annoyed at walking the streets
where he is shown as a sight, ‘There he goes: aye, that is him.’ He
says all rooms appear immense, his eye having been so long accustomed
to the straitened little apartment he occupied. Madame Bonawitz
latterly shared his confinement: she is reckoned clever, she writes
_English_ verses.
Our planet must have got out of its orbit and flown off further from
the sun, as the cold is very remarkable. Fires are indispensable, and
I, who have within these four years said the only place where a fire
was useful was the kitchen, am perishing. This is the 11th June, and
the servants continue fires, which is the more singular, as they in
general lay more stress upon the calendar than upon their feelings.
Bread is 17½_d._ the quartern loaf, butcher’s meat from one
shilling to 14_d._ pr. lb.; poultry, enormously dear; and every
other article of consumption in proportion. How the labouring poor
subsist and suffer their hardships patiently, are both problems.
[Sidenote: 1800 LORD ELLENBOROUGH]
Burke observed upon Mrs. Hastings’s[125] reception at Court, that the
Queen had but one vice, avarice, and but one virtue, decorum; but when
accident had brought them to contend, the vice had proved the stronger.
I dined with the Smiths on Saturday, where I met Serjeant Law,[126]
a man whose abilities are rated high in his profession, but who by a
singular piece of misfortune, has never yet had a fair opportunity
of distinguishing himself. He has a brief, clear way of expressing
himself, with a portion of causticity: he puts me in mind of Mr. Wm.
Fawkener. He dined here the next day. Our party consisted of almost all
the rising talents at the Bar, Bobus Smith, Mackintosh, Mr. Scarlett,
Sturges, Mr. Brand who, tho’ only an amateur, yet studies the law.
Fergusson, who is just liberated from the captivity of a year, called
so near the moment of dinner that it was impossible, with the most
adverse dispositions towards him, not to invite him. He accordingly
accepted the proposal. His beauty is much praised, I did not admire
him; about his mouth he has a mean expression. My _accueil_ was
not flattering or warm; as a guest he had my civility, otherwise a
particle of notice would not have been bestowed. I neither like the
man nor his cause. On Sunday the Beauclerks came to stay a day or two
_only_.
I made, through my mother, to Mr. Frogatt a proposal to be laid before
the guardians who may be appointed for my children by Chancery, the
substance of which is an offer to take upon myself the whole expense
of the maintenance and education of Harriet, that her fortune, which
is but five thousand pounds, may be allowed to accumulate until she
marries or is of age. I also wrote to him myself, adding that what I
asked was solely for the girl’s benefit, and that she would be equally
under the superintendence and control of her guardians. To this offer
I this day received an answer, merely to signify to me, that Mr.
Chaplin, in pursuance of the _earnest_ desire of ye late Sir G.
Webster, had applied to Chancery for the guardianship of the children:
a very improbable story, because if Sir G. Webster had recommended
his children to Chaplin, there would have existed a suspicion of his
intention of destroying himself; and, on the other hand, if it had been
his steady wish, he would at least have made a will in case of a death
as sudden and more unexpected. Sir Gilbert Affleck called upon Chaplin
yesterday, to propose to join in the application for the guardianship,
but Chaplin rejected the offer in a manner that Sir Gilbert told me it
was a force upon his feelings not to resent as it merited.
[Sidenote: GUARDIANSHIP OF THE CHILDREN]
Whilst Webby was at Petworth with Ld. Egremont, I wrote him a letter
under cover to Ld. E., in which, after inquiring how he was, I
conveyed my sense of Ld. E.’s kindness, adding that it was such that
it claimed the gratitude of all his family. Before this letter reached
Petworth Ld. E. had brought him to town to his grandmother’s and the
Chaplins, and I have not received a word of acknowledgment, which
seems unnecessarily harsh. This behaviour in Chaplin is the more
remarkable, as _he_ has uniformly assured me that he would use
his utmost endeavours to persuade Sir G. to let me see the children.
This assurance I have under his hand and signature. Besides, he was
quite cordial when I married Ld. H., wished me joy, and wound up his
congratulatory sentence with a sort of prophecy that I should be happy,
as my disposition was of a domestic turn, and that I had never hitherto
had a fair opportunity of showing the real goodness of my heart. He
visited Ld. H. and me, the year after, when he came to town, and, in
short, rather affected a sort of intimacy of intercourse. I shall set
every engine to work to counteract these unjust projects.
A few days ago I asked Ld. Stair[127] just to mention, the first
occasion he could find naturally, to Ld. Egremont how grateful I felt
for his tenderness to my child. He did, and brought back a civil
reply. I consulted Ld. S. about asking Ld. E. to do something towards
getting me the facility of seeing my children. He told me he was a
real good-hearted man, but one who was habitually indolent and to a
degree timid as to meddling in other people’s concerns, but that tho’
he would do nothing for me, yet he was incapable of doing anything
against. However, yesterday, to my great delight, Ld. Stair told me he
had _de son chef_ had a conversation with Ld. E., who not only was
not averse to me, but offered to call and explain all he knew about my
children’s concerns, and would undertake to advise Chaplin to be more
tractable. Ld. Stair advised me to write a letter of acknowledgment to
Ld. E., which I did last night. Thus I have the sanction of one of the
most respectable and worthy persons in my favour.
Sheridan dined with us last Friday; Mrs. S.[128] was to have come, but
she was ill from having sung too much. He was in a very playful vein
of humour, and, without any marked _trait_ of wit, all he said was
pleasant. Lewis was a self-invited guest, to prove to me that he and
William Lamb were cordial friends, who he knew dined with us; but he
failed in that attempt, as Lamb complained that he followed him like
his shadow, and bored him insufferably. Sheridan told a story of a sale
of plants near his house. The trees were ticketed with their names.
Two country gentlemen read a ‘Dacious cypress,’ ‘This must be wrong,’
said one, ‘there is no such word: I will make it right,’ and with his
pencil he wrote ‘_Au_dacious.’ When the little, puny deciduous cypress
appeared with such a tremendous name, the whole auction room shouted
with laughter. He said formerly the managers of the two theatres used
to send people to hiss and disturb the actors at new plays. One night
an actor complained to Garrick that the new tragedy was interrupted
and would get damned, as a Covent Garden man was in the pit laughing.
‘Never mind,’ said Garrick, ‘I shall be revenged, for I have a man fast
asleep at their new comedy.’
Bedford House is pulling down, and the Duke is building a new
square.[129] He has some idea of erecting a statue of Ld. Russell; I
advised him to get Mr. Fox to write the prose inscription, Fitzpatrick
the verse, and Dr. Parr the Latin. If he should raise the monument he
will adopt my hint. Serjeant Lens surprised me by saying that should
this statue be erected, the populace would in all probability pull it
down. If so, public opinion has undergone a strange revolution, as he
was a martyr whom patriots worshipped,--‘That cause for which Russell
and Sidney bled.’
_19th June._--I went yesterday to Hampton Court, where I slept.
Ld. H. rode over to St. Anne’s, and joined me at night. In a small
corner of the Palace erected by William now lives the Stadtholder[130]
and the Princess of Orange, fugitives from those dominions their
ancestor quitted to govern these: a reflection that must be accompanied
with pangs of regret and mortification.
On the 19th, I went by water to Kingston Bridge, where I found my
mother, Sir Gilbert, Henry,[131] and Mr. Francis. In the evening we all
went to the Opera.
[Sidenote: STATE OF THE WAR]
Genoa is taken, Melas seems to have changed positions with Masséna.
Bonaparte is beyond Milan and restoring the Cisalpine Governts.
Francis says whilst the French armies are performing prodigies of
valour, traversing impossible mts., dragging artillery over steep
crags, disposing of empires, extending conquests, etc., we hear our
own exploits, performed by an immense fleet sailing up and down the
Channel, to be a descent upon France, and the victor’s spoil ‘_three
pieces of iron cannon and twenty-five cows_.’ Maitland[132] commands
the expedition which has been directed again against Quiberon; the most
he can do will be to singe here and there the coast of France.