been but indifferent, for it is a very remarkable circumstance that all
the institutions in Southern countries are very degrading to the sex.
Morally and physically we are treated as beings of an inferior class,
and though it is not quite demonstrable that we are supposed to be
without a claim to immortality of soul, yet the reward is but trivial,
and we are excluded the Paradise of men. On the contrary, the natives
of the North hold even the feminine gender in respect, so great is
their veneration for us: they fought with us by their sides as tutelary
angels, and submitted to the government of a female chief. They called
the Sun the greatest luminary, to honour it with a feminine name, and
the moon, which is inferior, by a masculine one. This spirit melted
into chivalry, and it is to the _preux chevaliers_, the Arthurs,
the Orlandos, and the Round Table, that we owe our present situation in
society. However, the Saracens were a great and enlightened people, and
till lately literature and science have never fairly been grateful for
what they owe them, and half the world to this day even confound them
with those savages, the Turks. It is true that at first they fought
with the sword in one hand and the Alkoran in the other, but once
conquerors they cultivated the milder virtues. Where is there a better
government than that under the Caliphs in Spain? The University of
Granada educated our first _literati_, Friar Bacon, etc. It would
be endless to enter into their merits: Andrès,[169] a Spanish Jesuit
who lives at Mantua, has written an excellent book in Italian about
them.
[Sidenote: HER EDUCATION]
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]
Mr. B. has since returned to England, and received great encouragement
from the President. He is now learning Arabic and the languages that
will facilitate his future enterprises. It is hoped that he will be
_de bonne foi_, and really study the originals, and not do what poor
Savary[187] was accused of, who instead of deriving his knowledge
from the genuine sources, translated the history of a Caliphat from
a bad Latin version. A musty _savant_ discovered the imposition in
an ingenious manner. In Savary’s history a certain town in Egypt is
described as having its market filled weekly with oil. Now as no olives
grow, and consequently no oil can be produced in such abundance as to
furnish a regular supply in that district, recourse was had to other
translations, and the identical one copied by Savary was found, and the
error in the text that had led him into the mistake, for there _olium_
was used for _olus_ (_oleris_) cabbages! Thus fell the glorious boast
of Savary’s learning.
I have lately been reading a very entertaining book, not the less so
probably for being full of lies. It begins with a bouncer, viz., that
Henry VIII. put Wolsey to death for his strict adherence to the Pope.
The book is Leti’s _Life of Sextus V._, a pontiff whose history
both as a sovereign and a man is worthy of being recorded, though
the dignity of the first is degraded by cruelty, and the latter by
hypocrisy.
The King yesterday subscribed towards the exigencies of the State
and this ‘just and necessary war,’ 20,000_l._! A scandalous and
contemptible proceeding. He has a million annually, besides having
Hanover, and most of his family provided for. The subscription goes on
tardily, and there is not above 100,000_l._ raised, although it
has been opened above ten days.